Lan Wangji, who is perfectly aware of the beauty of his expressionless face, receives this with some fresh bemusement. He is uncertain whether Dionysus sincerely misunderstands him or whether he is being teased, which is mildly discomfiting.

Apparently, this is pointless to pursue. He thinks of Sagramore, saying, Since when is this thing that's defined me of no consequence to anyone? He spent thirty-six years cold and untouchable. It feels like stepping into the sun after a long winter to meet so many people who seem to take no notice of his demeanor at all, like peering into a brightness he is not sure he likes.

"I am not declining your offer," he says rather than answering the question.