Aziraphale picks up the paperman carefully to get a good look at the sigil. After all, he did know some Chinese and he was very familiar with all sorts of sigils for all sorts of reasons, even having a summoning circle hidden underneath one of the rugs in his shop.

"May I?" he asks, though he's not sure it'll work because he doesn't have cultivation powers, and certainly he is not doing any cultivation sitting around drinking wine.

Still, he thinks it's fascinating, and he always thinks of humans as making such interesting inventions to help them with their lives and livelihoods. Watching them grow and improve over the years, it really made him a proud angel.

He'd stayed out of their hair, mostly. It would be disallowed to help the humans with their inventions, their literature, their natural growth. Most of the time it'd been forbidden to even protect or heal them from things that needed happening: plagues, wars, that sort of thing.

He's no longer bound to those rules, and it makes him feel a little gleeful.