[A decade, Xichen says, as casually as if it makes any sense to say. Huaisang almost isn't listening, trying to muffle the stir of his grief and process Xichen's (somehow even more) refined appearance at the same time. A decade, and oh, well, that explains it, doesn't it? He's so shocked to see Huaisang out of step, out of time.

But why, Huaisang thinks, and puts a pin in that, too, for later. He's blinked owlishly at Xichen for long enough; now his brow furrows and he opens and shuts his mouth a few times, perhaps laying on thick precisely how lost for words he is. (Because he is— but still.)]

I don't understand— Xichen-ge is really ten years older? I saw you last week...

[To hang on his sleeve and moan about managing his clan's stupid saber training regimens, specifically. A whole fucking decade, really?

Huh. ...He has questions (and in his defense, who wouldn't), but instead he holds his hands up just a little and shakes his head.]

If something happens in ten years that's upsetting to Xichen-ge, don't tell me! I don't know anything about how this works, but it's not like we have to do anything now, right?

[Like, 'cause they're squids or something, he means. Don't think too hard about it.]