( the softening of jiang wanyin's voice is a hard-won feat, and it pleases xingchen more than his expression lets on. instead, he appears for all intents and purposes to turn back to the tea as if checking on it, a reflex held over from when he could see such a thing.

in turn, he hears jiang wanyin stand, hears him cross the distance into the kitchen area and (by the sounds of it) lean against the counter just next to the stove. xingchen's weight shifts subtly onto his other foot, but it's less a distancing movement than a thoughtless and inexplicably domestic sort of welcome - as if he's making room for the man's arrival. he only belatedly notices he's done it, silly and senseless as it was, and he's glad for an actual substantial topic of conversation at hand to turn his attention to. )

Have you thought about keeping a record of what you've learned? ( no, that doesn't answer any part of what was said directly, but he'll get back to that. ) Ink and paper - the gods can't read that, can they?