With a small smile, Zhou Jinhai reached out, fingers seeking the smooth porcelain before carefully sliding all the way round to lift the cup from Feng Jinayu’s grip. Without a word he raised it to his lips and drained it in one go, before politely holding it back out to Feng Jianyu. The older man huffed, a rough chuckle escaping as he obligingly refilled the cup for his friend. That too was swallowed in one go, and the cup once more offered back to Jianyu for refilling. He again obliged, but this time Zhou Jinhai set the cup down after taking a single sip. Lashes lifted to gaze in Jianyu’s direction, though he was off just slightly, staring out over Jianyu’s left shoulder. But the eyes that reflected the soft lantern light startled Feng Jianyu into spilling his own wine. They appeared to have captured the night sky within them, tiny sparkling stars against a deep purple that almost appeared to swirl and sparkle in the strangest way. Jianyu knew that Jinhai’s sight had been stolen by a poison that destroyed qi specifically. So the strange effect had to be due to the reaction between the poison and Jinhai’s qi, and the method with which he had kept it from spreading through his meridians to his diantian. Jianyu doubted he would have been able to manage such a stunt while in the midst of such a fierce battle. Splitting one’s attention to create qi effects was simple enough, but to have the control to effectively remove one's qi from an entire body part while fighting… Feng Jianyu couldn;t help but both admire and pity Zhou Jinhai. To be that talented, and yet that unlucky. 

Shaking his head to clear the morose mood that was rapidly creeping up on him, he raised his cup in salute. “To Nanyu.. “ Zhou Jinhai dropped his gaze, but then raised his cup. “Nanyu…” He echoed softly, hesitating before draining the cup once more. This time he set it back down without offering it for a refill, though Feng Jianyu picked up the jug and refilled both cups anyway. 

The room was silent for a time as the two men ate, but gradually a quiet conversation filled the space, along with the lingering scent of herbs from the bath long since cleared away by the sect’s juniors. They spoke of unimportant things; sect politics, the latest news from the other regions, the up-coming sword trials for the junior disciples. Life continued, even when someone was no longer around to participate. They talked long into the night, avoiding the obvious topics while taking the opportunity to rest and recuperate. Until, in the early hours of the morning, one tall figure left the courtyard alone, returning to his own quarters nearby. But only after making sure one of the senior disciples was standing guard over the home’s occupant.