[ There's a small smile of gratitude, both that he continues playing and for the particular song. For just a moment, he allows himself to close his eyes and feel at home, to conjure up the way he committed the smell of the rain and the sound of a chorus of voices to memory.
So vivid is the recollection that it would be easy to stay immersed even as the notes of the song fade, but that's not what he's here for, so instead he opens his eyes. He contemplates the question briefly, evaluating which subject is the most pressing to discuss. ]
What is the last you remember, before you came here?
[ He hadn't asked it before, because it hadn't seemed necessary - he'd assumed that, of course, they'd remembered the same thing, until he encountered the other Wangji and both Wei Wuxians.
no subject
So vivid is the recollection that it would be easy to stay immersed even as the notes of the song fade, but that's not what he's here for, so instead he opens his eyes. He contemplates the question briefly, evaluating which subject is the most pressing to discuss. ]
What is the last you remember, before you came here?
[ He hadn't asked it before, because it hadn't seemed necessary - he'd assumed that, of course, they'd remembered the same thing, until he encountered the other Wangji and both Wei Wuxians.
Until he found Meng Yao. ]