[ lin jingheng adjusts the jacket around lu bixing's shoulder gently with a tug, turning inwards towards him to make certain that he feels safe here in the shadow of his shoulder. ]

As we are right now? Probably not.

[ if he's being honest, and he has to be honest here in this moment. the taste of whiskey lingers on his tongue for a while, in among the smoke that tastes so strangely green. he doesn't like it, but he doesn't hate it. it's just different, vibrant. readjusting to food like this is always a trial and error process. ]

Best you could have done was this... even if Four being our culprit was not something we desired.

[ a soft squeeze. ] You speak with her?