Oh, Claudius is so grateful now that he's practiced meditation with Lan Wangji. He's already gotten through this part where he feels a bit ridiculous, and impatient, and wants to start pacing rather than go through this slow inventory of all the tension in his body. Because, as it turns out, there's a lot. Dealing with it all, each wiggling toe and the vast mountains of stress held between his shoulder-blades, takes time. But he does it. He thinks of his qi circulating, the qi that starts with his breath where all the powers of speech begin. He does it in silence, and does a noble job of not opening his eyes and asking whether they're done and ready for the next bit yet. It is unaccountably difficult for Claudius to be present with himself, when his mind's always wants to race for the next thing.