( the token protest regarding music and xufeng is noticed, even acknowledged with an understanding little hum. the nuances will likely always be lost on xingchen, having grown up apart from such intricate politics, but he does understand that nothing is quite so black-and-white, and that xufeng himself may not have been at fault in the slightest for his supposed owning of the concept of music.

regardless, catching the faint sounds of runyu's drink reminds him to refill his own, now that he no longer has a point of strong importance to deliver. he's quite sure that he's starting to feel it, this cider - there's a warmth in him that even reaches his fingertips (or perhaps makes him forget the chill of them), and everything feels both slightly softer and slightly more vivid. more present in this moment rather than moments prior or moments to come.

but he's still far from properly intoxicated (yet?), and when he sets the bottle a bit closer to the center of the table so that runyu might reach, it's with no absence of his usual grace or spatial awareness. his friend has actually begun to answer the actual question now, his own head tilting a bit as he listens. then, )

Perhaps it didn't, but at least you made the attempt, ( he says, smiling a bit. then comes a sip of his cider and a thoughtful little hum, and the next words have a bit of a wondering lilt. ) I've always admired those with any talent in the arts. Music, artworks and painting, storytelling... I've found that I'm not especially creative, at least not in that sort of way.