He opens his mouth to ask what radiation is supposed to be, and why there's so much of it in space, but there's so much else to think on, with every new bit of information, it becomes just one of a myriad of questions. About things like how stars are suns? And the suns have worlds they're shining for, don't they? And that there's more people out on those other worlds?

Wei Wuxian's curiosity is like an endless thirst, but it only seems to grow, the more he drinks. He'd thought himself well-traveled, had hoped to see more distant shores and places and people, like his parents had, once upon a time. Knowing that there was more, so much more, just thinking on it was dizzying. How many stars were in the night sky? More than he could possibly count, and each one a world with endless stories.

For once, he's without words, struck for a moment by such a vast idea, and his own place in it. The poetic nature of what she says last is striking, somehow, and so unlike her speech before, but the sentiment is surprisingly profound. There are a number of people and places he has loved far too dearly to fear what he had to become in order to protect them.

"I hope I get to see them, someday," he says, a bit wistfully. It's not as if they have such ships and technology where he's from, but who knows? Cultivators can life hundreds of years, if they work at it. Maybe.

"But I'd settle for just the familiar stars of home, right about now," he hums, trying to add a bit of humor, because he's utterly incapable of hanging onto a serious moment, "don't think I won't come bothering you the very moment I think of a hundred more questions to ask."

Even the very concept of night must be different for Shepard, he realizes, since far from her home world, there isn't a sun to set in the evening.