It is nearly six o'clock in the evening, and they have been out on the town shopping since about eleven in the morning. Jin Guangyao is an unstoppable machine.
As with most of his proposals, even those that are benevolent in nature and which he believes will be received with enthusiasm, there is an ulterior motive at work here. Shen Yuan's abduction to the Sleeper Farm and his subsequent extraction has left Jin Guangyao keenly aware of how vulnerable those with low cultivation are in Trench, and, well, with Huaisang being exactly how he is (i.e., with fewer neuroses than Jin Guangyao to make him fear everything as a potential threat at all times), how can he not worry? And with Nie Mingjue murdered um, not available, and Lan Xichen bearing the brunt of the load transferring qi to Shen Yuan to aid with his recovery, it therefore must fall to Jin Guangyao as Huaisang's San-ge to keep their late Da-ge's didi from being abducted by zealots, or tripping into another pocket dimension filled with hostile architecture.
So, how best to achieve this? Simply telling Huaisang to be careful is little better than doing nothing at all. Ordering him to stay put at the Red will just activate Huaisang's contrary little brother protocols, all but guaranteeing he will find some way to sneak out and land himself in danger. Which means that Jin Guangyao must reach for the only remaining useful tool he recalls from his (admittedly brief) tenure as a father to an excitable small child: keep Huaisang so busy throughout the day that he will be too tired by the end of it to even consider getting into trouble.
Stepping out of his preferred tea shop in Cellar Door with yet another bag slung over one of his arms, he consults his omni with a pensive frown, examining his curated list of stores and boutiques (arranged by district, of course) to see where they haven't been yet. Hmm, hmm, so many options--aha! "Huaisang, there is a perfumier down the lane that I have been intending to visit," he says and turns to face Huaisang with the most polite and agreeable smile he has in his arsenal of smiles. There's nothing amiss here, not at all. "Would you like to go there next?" Next, he says, not last. (Because there are still more stores on that list, and Huaisang hasn't collapsed from exhaustion yet.)
It's somewhere around the fourth hour that Huaisang realizes something is wrong, in Jin Guangyao's, ahem, defense. Every man has a limit when it comes to relentlessly doing activities, and while Huaisang's capacity to shop 'til he drops, as it were, is greater than that of most— well. Holy shit, san-ge, what is going on. He doesn't protest at first, placated with well-timed breaks to stop and have a late lunch and so on, and after Jin Guangyao absolutely ignores his sideways suggestion that maybe they go home (pleasantly, of course, but still) - he figures this is just his life now.
At least Jin Guangyao will carry bags. It's the little things. Huaisang is fast approaching the event horizon past which he will not care one single lick what's actually going on here, at least not until he's had twelve hours minimum to sit in a luxurious lounge all by himself and not think about anything. So the outing is going great, or: if they had stayed in this tea shop any longer than they do, Huaisang would have been driven over the edge and pushed a display over.
As it happens, Jin Guangyao's pleasant smile and tireless insistence that they keep going places chafes against him so profoundly that he feels like sticking his hand in a fire would be more comforting, at the moment. He looks at Jin Guangyao over the edge of his fan, brow lightly furrowed, like he's considering where to go next and not whether or not it's morally bankrupt to stick one of those bags in Jin Guangyao's mouth so he'll stop pleasantly offering New Activities.
When his gaze inevitably trails away towards something else, well, he's surely made a decision, but who knows what that is. Never mind that now.
"San-ge," he starts, and tries very hard not to whine. Does he want to go to the perfumier? Well, "No."
That's it, the end. No; but there is a lengthy beat, which Huaisang thinks conveys at least some of his point pretty well.
Jin Guangyao maintains his smile of perfect, amiable patience for an additional handful of seconds after Huaisang lays down the law. When he exhales and lets it drop, some of the wind goes out of his sails, and while his posture does not alter, it's clear that he's abandoned this particular mask. There's no point in maintaining it, and perhaps he's more tired than he looks, too; he'd dig in his heels, otherwise.
"All right," he relents softly and slips the hand supporting the fewest number of parcels into his robe pocket to fish out his omni. "Please let me just text Er-ge to let him know."
(It is a comparatively short but pleasant message that Lan Xichen receives. Jin Guangyao is not particularly inclined towards lengthy correspondence via this medium, but it's hard to chuck old habits, and he does wish to be thorough.)
USER ID: WHENINLANLING (JIN GUANGYAO)
Greetings, Er-ge. I hope that Shen-di is recovering well and that you are not overly taxing your spiritual reserves. Please enjoy the congee I left for you both on the kitchen counter for dinner. I applied a heating talisman before I left so you would not find it necessary to use the stove.
I am going to accompany Huaisang back to the Red now that we are finished with our outing. So far we have had no encounters with any zealots or other evil entities. I will be sure he makes it back to his room safely.
That dealt with, Jin Guangyao switches the screen off and breathes out, looking like he has to marshal his composure for some mysterious reason. (Are his eyes darting about them with increased anxiety now that he is not as committed to the enthusiastic shopping partner bit?) "I will walk you home."
Huaisang spends the duration of Jin Guangyao's subtle giving up and texting Lan Xichen watching the passersby, and when he loses interest in that, considering his fingernails. He has zero intentions of looking apologetic about wanting to go home after this many hours, and if Jin Guangyao wants to mire in his anxieties about it in silence, well, that is a personal Jin Guangyao problem. At least, until Huaisang's last thread of patience snaps, but that has mercifully yet to occur.
He sighs, instead, very put-upon and exhausted by this Outing and its Continuance. He would like to be at home three hours ago, in fact, and the insistence on walking him home is so— mmph. Grating, he thinks? He would prefer to be fussed over on his own terms, and he doesn't much care for these specific terms that have yet to loop him in at all. So, in that case...
"Sure," he says, and flutters his fan amicably, for what it's worth. "And then I'm going to sleep, so san-ge is welcome to excuse himself."
Will Huaisang actually put himself to bed? It's anyone's guess. But he would like to not be out and about against his will anymore, so if this strategy is what it takes, so be it.
It takes all of Jin Guangyao's not insubstantial willpower for him not to give in to the exhausted urge to argue with Huaisang about that last point, but he succeeds. He even manages to make his smile appear pleasant rather than a fraught grimace. "Of course, Huaisang," he obligingly lies to him, because Jin Guangyao will not be immediately excusing himself once they return to the Red, but there's no reason to bring that up now. If they're going to have a bit of a tiff, he'd rather it happen in private.
And so he is content to lead the way back to the extravagantly appointed club where Huaisang has declared himself a permanent resident. (It does suit him, Jin Guangyao must admit, and anywhere else Huaisang might settle in Trench in the future is sure to be a step-down compared to the Red.) For the remainder of the trip he is content to pretend that the silence between them is comfortable, rather than awkward and strained due to his own clearly unsuccessful gambit. Jin Guangyao presses his lips into a thin line and endeavours to just. let the awkwardness be awkward, at they at least have a closed door between themselves and the rest of the city.
Once they arrive, Jin Guangyao very generously continues to shoulder the burden of all the shopping bags--and there are rather a lot of them--and offers, "Let this one carry Huaisang's purchases up to his suite for him." Unless, his eyes suggest guilelessly, after such a very long and tiring day, Huaisang wants to carry all these things on his own?
Huaisang says nothing more on the way back to the Red, nor does he speak up in The Elevator, nor when he very pointedly shrugs off his outer robes in the doorway of his suite (these get tossed over the back of the desk chair, sorry) and actually does go crawling into bed, where he settles himself very firmly under the absurdly lavish down comforter, like he is really about to go to sleep, while Jin Guangyao is just also here in the suite.
Besides the fact that he does this all as a pointed tableau, which of course is beyond obvious to the both of them, given he has absolutely done this one before. Mercifully, he has not locked Jin Guangyao out in the hallway, like he might have back in Qinghe. This is a kindness.
So here he is: the fussed baron of his small empire of luxurious pillows, folding his hands delicately and regarding Jin Guangyao from over here. Ahem.
"This one thanks san-ge for putting the bags on the desk," he says, finally, with an equally pointed glance at the desk, and then, "And are you going to tell me what it is, or make me guess?" Because there is an it, and he's already gotten comfortable and doesn't want to get up to flutter his fan around and collapse on Jin Guangyao until he finally excuses himself. So.
Yes, essentially every step in this dance is familiar to Jin Guangyao, who finds himself irrationally bristling at Huaisang's spoilt second young master display beneath his calm veneer, because when in Jin Guangyao's life has he ever been free to flaunt his displeasure about anything so openly? But he has self-awareness enough to recognize that this festering pain is not Huaisang's fault--that, and he remembers why he wanted to exhaust Huaisang by keeping him on his feet all day in the first place. Abruptly, his irritation withers on the vine, and there's nothing left to distract him from all the cold, anxious dread that has been fermenting inside him ever since Lan Xichen brought Shen Yuan back to the siheyuan.
His pokerface has never been perfect. And so if there is just the barest glimpse of something small and animal-like and afraid in his eyes, just for a moment--but then it is gone, and he has mastered his composure again. He carries the bags over to the desk and sets all of Huaisang's latest acquisitions down with care, and old habit has him extracting them from their wrappings with precision, containing the mess for easy disposal later.
"And are you going to tell me what it is, or make me guess?"
Busted. Jin Guangyao smiles thinly and does not look Huaisang's way, not at first. "Huaisang has always been more perceptive than we give him credit for," he concedes nevertheless, then sighs and makes himself turn away from the shopping bags to face Huaisang on his throne of pillows and blankets. He looks--not apologetic, exactly, but something in that neighbourhood. "Please, forgive this one for his error today. It was ill-planned." A pause, long enough for him to close his eyes and take another breath, and state it bluntly: "I was afraid, for you. After what happened to Shen-gongzi."
There. He's said it. (Mostly.) He drops his gaze and fastidiously smooths a nonexistent wrinkle from the front of his robes. "I wanted to--be nearby, to protect you if something happened. But I did not want you to worry, either, and so," and there he gestures at all the shopping bags, before growing quiet. Yep, that was the plan, and that is... all he finds himself capable of saying about it.
Well, it takes less wheedling than he'd expected, which is something. Huaisang sinks an inch further into his throne of pillows, hands unfolding to curl his fingers in the blankets and twist the edge of it. Jin Guangyao tries so very, very hard to look after him, and in the strangest ways - shopping! - but there's still something about it that rankles. The ill-planning? The many, many hours of it? It's in there somewhere.
"San-ge can't follow me around forever," he points out, as delicately as his fussy mood will allow. He puts in the modicum of effort, for what it's worth; he isn't much interested in dragging out an argument, polite or otherwise, after so many hours of being dragged around. All the same, "And I am not a child, you know. I can handle worrying news."
Ah, there it is. He worries the hem of the blanket in his hands a bit more, frowning down at it. Maybe it's not so much the, hm, concerned babying - because pretending it's not concerned babying is disingenuous, he thinks - but the lack of... clarity? He can be looked after, but at least on earnest terms--
"Even if I would have to depend on san-ge and er-ge, shouldn't I be permitted to know? San-ge should tell me these things, even if they're difficult."
"...shouldn't I be permitted to know? San-ge should tell me these things, even if they're difficult."
He should, shouldn't he? Protecting him from knowledge is no protection at all--hadn't Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue argued about this very thing just months before his death? Oh, it galls him more than he thought possible to see evidence that he is following in their Da-ge's steps where Huaisang is concerned, but the only evidence of the intensity of his feelings is the tightening of his fingers where he's neatly folded his hands before himself.
Well. He can at least manage one thing for Huaisang that Mingjue never offered either of them. (Is a sincerely felt apology less genuine if it is given in part to spite someone who is already dead? Who even knows.)
Another breath in, another breath out. "Huaisang is right. Please," and predictably, he rounds his arms and executes a short, precise bow, "permit this one to apologize again, for hiding his reasons from you." It only hits him after he's spoken the words that they could apply to a very different secret, and before the bottom can drop out from beneath him, he straightens up and forces himself to go on. (It's fine. Everything is fine.) "But since you are right, that Er-ge and I can't be with you all the time, we should consider finding another way for you to protect yourself when you are on your own."
Huaisang waits patiently, still twisting at the blanket in an idle motion, because he doesn't expect— well, much? After all, when it carries enough weight, won't Jin Guangyao take up lying to him again, anyway? So it's a non-starter, but when he glances up again to see Jin Guangyao bow, putting his apology and his earnestness behind that careful wall of his propriety just like he always does— Huaisang is... well, he is. He can't call it satisfied; he won't call it anything else.
So, whatever. The feeling heats and cools in his chest in record speed, and he picks the scab and buries it with the rest on the edge of a little sigh, leaning sideways into his mountain of pillows and propping his chin in his hand. Now it sounds like work, what's all this then...
"I could hire a proper bodyguard," he offers, in the tone that suggests he already knows Jin Guangyao won't go for it. A bodyguard is one man, fallible, has to sleep sometimes, isn't Jin Guangyao personally and so therefore clearly not going to solve this particular anxiety problem... Huaisang could write the list of objections himself, and so he shrugs them off in advance.
"What does san-ge have in mind? If it's the saber, you have to get out of my room." He says it with a little lilt, like it's a joke; it's not a joke. Still, he's certain it's not going to be that.
Jin Guangyao opts not to engage with the bodyguard comment at all, not even with a disapproving look (though, for the record, Huaisang's assessment of his reaction is right on the money), and instead offers reassurance regarding that last point. "No, it is not the sabre," he says with a short little laugh, and seems to relax infinitesimally. A joke! That Huaisang is amenable to needling him is a good sign, surely. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and a bit of the tension eases from his narrow shoulders, and with it the polite mask that so often characterizes his expressions even around his loved ones. Now, as he finds a chair to pull up to the side of Huaisang's bed so that he can be seated (rather than loitering in the middle of the room while Huaisang luxuriates among his nest of pillows), his expression is a shrewd, calculating, and very honest-looking thing. (Honest for Jin Guangyao, anyway.)
He folds his hand neatly in his lap, takes another breath, and looks at Huaisang. "Your cultivation is not strong, and neither are your martial arts. But," he is quick to add, "you must know that in this place, that matters less than it does in our world. Huaisang, since you have arrived in Trench, have you discovered that you can..." a pause, while he tries to consider the most appropriate word, a neat little furrow appearing between his eyebrows, "...do things, strange things, that you could not do before, in our world? Things that would have be impossible even for the most talented cultivator to accomplish."
It's a bit of a leading question, admittedly, and Jin Guangyao clearly knows where he's going with this conversation regardless of how Huaisang answers. But there's transparent curiosity in his eyes too, and he falls silent while waiting for Huaisang's reply.
One of these days, Huaisang thinks, Jin Guangyao will have a conversation with him without making it a whole production. The little calculations of it - the carefully measured expressions, the precision of every inch of him from his primly folded hands to that crisp little crease in his brow - Huaisang takes in these things and sorts them into piles, the ones for his benefit and the ones peeking through Jin Guangyao's perfectly serene mask. Call it habit; it doesn't mean anything right this second, after all.
"Ah, I don't know— maybe? I don't know," he shrugs, waving off the whole idea. Well, "I did speak to a wolf who was not an omen, I suppose. But just the one time, and san-ge wouldn't let a wolf look after me, either, I know."
Ha ha, how silly would that be. Surely that won't happen again.
"Does san-ge think I would have reason to make up such a fantastical lie?" Talking to a wolf? Come on, if he were going to lie or, alternatively, have some kind of bizarre dream sequence, he would not come up with wolves. Generally, he is not a big fan!
"Absolutely certain! He was very kind to me, in fact. If san-ge simply can't do the same thing, that's nothing to worry about."
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deercountry2022-11-23 11:23 am
you've caught a san-ge, congrats
As with most of his proposals, even those that are benevolent in nature and which he believes will be received with enthusiasm, there is an ulterior motive at work here. Shen Yuan's abduction to the Sleeper Farm and his subsequent extraction has left Jin Guangyao keenly aware of how vulnerable those with low cultivation are in Trench, and, well, with Huaisang being exactly how he is (i.e., with fewer neuroses than Jin Guangyao to make him fear everything as a potential threat at all times), how can he not worry? And with Nie Mingjue
murderedum, not available, and Lan Xichen bearing the brunt of the load transferring qi to Shen Yuan to aid with his recovery, it therefore must fall to Jin Guangyao as Huaisang's San-ge to keep their late Da-ge's didi from being abducted by zealots, or tripping into another pocket dimension filled with hostile architecture.So, how best to achieve this? Simply telling Huaisang to be careful is little better than doing nothing at all. Ordering him to stay put at the Red will just activate Huaisang's contrary little brother protocols, all but guaranteeing he will find some way to sneak out and land himself in danger. Which means that Jin Guangyao must reach for the only remaining useful tool he recalls from his (admittedly brief) tenure as a father to an excitable small child: keep Huaisang so busy throughout the day that he will be too tired by the end of it to even consider getting into trouble.
Stepping out of his preferred tea shop in Cellar Door with yet another bag slung over one of his arms, he consults his omni with a pensive frown, examining his curated list of stores and boutiques (arranged by district, of course) to see where they haven't been yet. Hmm, hmm, so many options--aha! "Huaisang, there is a perfumier down the lane that I have been intending to visit," he says and turns to face Huaisang with the most polite and agreeable smile he has in his arsenal of smiles. There's nothing amiss here, not at all. "Would you like to go there next?" Next, he says, not last. (Because there are still more stores on that list, and Huaisang hasn't collapsed from exhaustion yet.)
picks him up and spins him around
At least Jin Guangyao will carry bags. It's the little things. Huaisang is fast approaching the event horizon past which he will not care one single lick what's actually going on here, at least not until he's had twelve hours minimum to sit in a luxurious lounge all by himself and not think about anything. So the outing is going great, or: if they had stayed in this tea shop any longer than they do, Huaisang would have been driven over the edge and pushed a display over.
As it happens, Jin Guangyao's pleasant smile and tireless insistence that they keep going places chafes against him so profoundly that he feels like sticking his hand in a fire would be more comforting, at the moment. He looks at Jin Guangyao over the edge of his fan, brow lightly furrowed, like he's considering where to go next and not whether or not it's morally bankrupt to stick one of those bags in Jin Guangyao's mouth so he'll stop pleasantly offering New Activities.
When his gaze inevitably trails away towards something else, well, he's surely made a decision, but who knows what that is. Never mind that now.
"San-ge," he starts, and tries very hard not to whine. Does he want to go to the perfumier? Well, "No."
That's it, the end. No; but there is a lengthy beat, which Huaisang thinks conveys at least some of his point pretty well.
"I'm tired of shopping, I want to go home."
no subject
Jin Guangyao maintains his smile of perfect, amiable patience for an additional handful of seconds after Huaisang lays down the law. When he exhales and lets it drop, some of the wind goes out of his sails, and while his posture does not alter, it's clear that he's abandoned this particular mask. There's no point in maintaining it, and perhaps he's more tired than he looks, too; he'd dig in his heels, otherwise.
"All right," he relents softly and slips the hand supporting the fewest number of parcels into his robe pocket to fish out his omni. "Please let me just text Er-ge to let him know."
(It is a comparatively short but pleasant message that Lan Xichen receives. Jin Guangyao is not particularly inclined towards lengthy correspondence via this medium, but it's hard to chuck old habits, and he does wish to be thorough.)
USER ID: WHENINLANLING (JIN GUANGYAO)
That dealt with, Jin Guangyao switches the screen off and breathes out, looking like he has to marshal his composure for some mysterious reason. (Are his eyes darting about them with increased anxiety now that he is not as committed to the enthusiastic shopping partner bit?) "I will walk you home."
no subject
He sighs, instead, very put-upon and exhausted by this Outing and its Continuance. He would like to be at home three hours ago, in fact, and the insistence on walking him home is so— mmph. Grating, he thinks? He would prefer to be fussed over on his own terms, and he doesn't much care for these specific terms that have yet to loop him in at all. So, in that case...
"Sure," he says, and flutters his fan amicably, for what it's worth. "And then I'm going to sleep, so san-ge is welcome to excuse himself."
Will Huaisang actually put himself to bed? It's anyone's guess. But he would like to not be out and about against his will anymore, so if this strategy is what it takes, so be it.
no subject
And so he is content to lead the way back to the extravagantly appointed club where Huaisang has declared himself a permanent resident. (It does suit him, Jin Guangyao must admit, and anywhere else Huaisang might settle in Trench in the future is sure to be a step-down compared to the Red.) For the remainder of the trip he is content to pretend that the silence between them is comfortable, rather than awkward and strained due to his own clearly unsuccessful gambit. Jin Guangyao presses his lips into a thin line and endeavours to just. let the awkwardness be awkward, at they at least have a closed door between themselves and the rest of the city.
Once they arrive, Jin Guangyao very generously continues to shoulder the burden of all the shopping bags--and there are rather a lot of them--and offers, "Let this one carry Huaisang's purchases up to his suite for him." Unless, his eyes suggest guilelessly, after such a very long and tiring day, Huaisang wants to carry all these things on his own?
no subject
Besides the fact that he does this all as a pointed tableau, which of course is beyond obvious to the both of them, given he has absolutely done this one before. Mercifully, he has not locked Jin Guangyao out in the hallway, like he might have back in Qinghe. This is a kindness.
So here he is: the fussed baron of his small empire of luxurious pillows, folding his hands delicately and regarding Jin Guangyao from over here. Ahem.
"This one thanks san-ge for putting the bags on the desk," he says, finally, with an equally pointed glance at the desk, and then, "And are you going to tell me what it is, or make me guess?" Because there is an it, and he's already gotten comfortable and doesn't want to get up to flutter his fan around and collapse on Jin Guangyao until he finally excuses himself. So.
no subject
His pokerface has never been perfect. And so if there is just the barest glimpse of something small and animal-like and afraid in his eyes, just for a moment--but then it is gone, and he has mastered his composure again. He carries the bags over to the desk and sets all of Huaisang's latest acquisitions down with care, and old habit has him extracting them from their wrappings with precision, containing the mess for easy disposal later.
"And are you going to tell me what it is, or make me guess?"
Busted.Jin Guangyao smiles thinly and does not look Huaisang's way, not at first. "Huaisang has always been more perceptive than we give him credit for," he concedes nevertheless, then sighs and makes himself turn away from the shopping bags to face Huaisang on his throne of pillows and blankets. He looks--not apologetic, exactly, but something in that neighbourhood. "Please, forgive this one for his error today. It was ill-planned." A pause, long enough for him to close his eyes and take another breath, and state it bluntly: "I was afraid, for you. After what happened to Shen-gongzi."There. He's said it. (Mostly.) He drops his gaze and fastidiously smooths a nonexistent wrinkle from the front of his robes. "I wanted to--be nearby, to protect you if something happened. But I did not want you to worry, either, and so," and there he gestures at all the shopping bags, before growing quiet. Yep, that was the plan, and that is... all he finds himself capable of saying about it.
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"San-ge can't follow me around forever," he points out, as delicately as his fussy mood will allow. He puts in the modicum of effort, for what it's worth; he isn't much interested in dragging out an argument, polite or otherwise, after so many hours of being dragged around. All the same, "And I am not a child, you know. I can handle worrying news."
Ah, there it is. He worries the hem of the blanket in his hands a bit more, frowning down at it. Maybe it's not so much the, hm, concerned babying - because pretending it's not concerned babying is disingenuous, he thinks - but the lack of... clarity? He can be looked after, but at least on earnest terms--
"Even if I would have to depend on san-ge and er-ge, shouldn't I be permitted to know? San-ge should tell me these things, even if they're difficult."
no subject
He should, shouldn't he? Protecting him from knowledge is no protection at all--hadn't Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue argued about this very thing just months before his death? Oh, it galls him more than he thought possible to see evidence that he is following in their Da-ge's steps where Huaisang is concerned, but the only evidence of the intensity of his feelings is the tightening of his fingers where he's neatly folded his hands before himself.
Well. He can at least manage one thing for Huaisang that Mingjue never offered either of them. (Is a sincerely felt apology less genuine if it is given in part to spite someone who is already dead? Who even knows.)
Another breath in, another breath out. "Huaisang is right. Please," and predictably, he rounds his arms and executes a short, precise bow, "permit this one to apologize again, for hiding his reasons from you." It only hits him after he's spoken the words that they could apply to a very different secret, and before the bottom can drop out from beneath him, he straightens up and forces himself to go on. (It's fine. Everything is fine.) "But since you are right, that Er-ge and I can't be with you all the time, we should consider finding another way for you to protect yourself when you are on your own."
no subject
So, whatever. The feeling heats and cools in his chest in record speed, and he picks the scab and buries it with the rest on the edge of a little sigh, leaning sideways into his mountain of pillows and propping his chin in his hand. Now it sounds like work, what's all this then...
"I could hire a proper bodyguard," he offers, in the tone that suggests he already knows Jin Guangyao won't go for it. A bodyguard is one man, fallible, has to sleep sometimes, isn't Jin Guangyao personally and so therefore clearly not going to solve this particular anxiety problem... Huaisang could write the list of objections himself, and so he shrugs them off in advance.
"What does san-ge have in mind? If it's the saber, you have to get out of my room." He says it with a little lilt, like it's a joke; it's not a joke. Still, he's certain it's not going to be that.
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He folds his hand neatly in his lap, takes another breath, and looks at Huaisang. "Your cultivation is not strong, and neither are your martial arts. But," he is quick to add, "you must know that in this place, that matters less than it does in our world. Huaisang, since you have arrived in Trench, have you discovered that you can..." a pause, while he tries to consider the most appropriate word, a neat little furrow appearing between his eyebrows, "...do things, strange things, that you could not do before, in our world? Things that would have be impossible even for the most talented cultivator to accomplish."
It's a bit of a leading question, admittedly, and Jin Guangyao clearly knows where he's going with this conversation regardless of how Huaisang answers. But there's transparent curiosity in his eyes too, and he falls silent while waiting for Huaisang's reply.
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"Ah, I don't know— maybe? I don't know," he shrugs, waving off the whole idea. Well, "I did speak to a wolf who was not an omen, I suppose. But just the one time, and san-ge wouldn't let a wolf look after me, either, I know."
Ha ha, how silly would that be. Surely that won't happen again.
"What is san-ge getting at? It's late, you know."
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Jin Guangyao neatly bookmarks his thought, he'll come back to it, this is much more pressing. "You spoke--to a wolf?" Pause. "Is Huaisang certain?"
doubt.jpegno subject
"Absolutely certain! He was very kind to me, in fact. If san-ge simply can't do the same thing, that's nothing to worry about."