[ Unlike Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing carries a confused, almost wounded look as he turns from the sorcerer to his zhiji and back again, marking their conversation with a frustrated pout. Didn't he make a good offer? Isn't this the human thing to do? Wen Kexing is openly puzzling over where he went wrong and why this man is treating the invitation so discourteously. Part of him is resisting being insulted very hard, because his natural instinct is to be angry and rebellious first, but Zhou Zishu is smiling and relaxed, so he won't allow himself to be the one to spoil the mood. ]

Tch, fine then. Climb the western tower to gaze at the sickled moon.
Friends meet under a shared roof, but the wutong tree stands in the lonely courtyard.

A-Xu, give that to me. We need to heat it.

[ He's totally sulking at the cold reception, but it's certainly not the deepest wound he's ever felt. Wen Kexing sets about trying to heat some of the alcohol to make it easier on Zhou Zishu, keeping as mild an expression as he can through it all. ]