Jiang Wanyin, who is still bristlingly furious that some golden-haired child disarmed him through some foul trickery and then conspired to allow Lan Wangji whisk him and Wei Wuxian away, bristles at the interruption and then feels rather like he put his foot down expecting another step only to find himself on the top of a stair at the rest of what this man says.

He has manners, sometimes. He bows in return, though his scowl does not fade. "Yunmeng."