Oh, Jiang Wanyin needs the weapons out. Across the lake he can make out the same fucking mourning robes that have plagued him for years. What fucking right does Lan Wangji have? Why the fuck is he still wearing them??? And there, next to the asshole, is a familiar slip of a man in dark clothes. So this is where they scampered off to.

"I'll be the judge of that," he growls.