That he is in a state of undress comparable to everyone else on the beach is immaterial; the standard against which he has been measured (and found wanting) has always stood higher than even the most mediocre of his legitimate relatives or their peers. It takes conscious effort for him to remind himself that they are not here. More than that, most of them are dead.

At her inquiry, he nods once and tries to summon up his signature neutral smile again, with limited success. (Maybe once he finds a set of robes with actual pants.) "I recall--some things," he hedges, his brow dipped into a small furrow, "but not all." A temple, a golden statue, an empty coffin. A closed fist. A sword through his heart. He remembers enough.

He shutters those thoughts away behind opaque glass in his mind. To Alcina, he dips his head respectfully and lowers his eyes. "This lowly one begs your forgiveness for his poor manners. I am called Jin Guangyao." After only a brief pause to adjust his smile, he adds, "Ayi is self-assured and brave in the face of such strange circumstances as these. I worry I am inflicting great offence upon you, for I do not know how to address you."