He coughs, a little flustered. Took the punishment well? Not particularly, if his nights of copying lines and falling asleep at the table was anything to go by, but he'd done it, either way. It was only a small thing compared to the lines he'd end up copying later, for daring to suggest a fourth option when dealing with an unruly spirit.

Does he remember the Lan's rules and virtues? Despite his best efforts not to, after copying them so many times he could swear they were engraved on the back of his eyelids as well.

"Maybe some," he admits, jumping ahead a little, "did the other me get us into a lot of trouble for reciting them at the Wen indoctrination camp too?"

He'd felt particularly pleased with himself over that one, though it'd earned all of them a day hauling dung to fertilize the Wen's fields. It was worth it for Wen Chao's sour expression alone, he figured. His night in the dungeons afterward, perhaps less so.