A very polite and diminutive shadow accompanies Hannibal towards the whetstone. Jin Guangyao watches him sharpen the blade, and (perhaps tellingly) does not flinch or demonstrate any outward discomfort to the loud crack of the bird's breastbone as it breaks. No, that only happens when Hannibal asks him to talk about himself. A wide-eyed look of surprise, a flush of colour to his cheeks, and he turns his eyes back towards the meal preparation currently taking place on the tabletop.

"Xiansheng is kind to ask," he says, smiling carefully, and spreads his hands to either side in an artless gesture. "My apologies, I--this one is unaccustomed to speaking about himself." A pause as he considers which of his talents are likely to be well received, and then: "Is xiansheng familiar with the guqin? It is a musical instrument, where I am from." He folds his hands neatly in front of himself. "I have been told that my playing is very good."