His hand tightens on the bathtub's rim, and his next sigh shakes fractionally. He closes his eyes as Lan Zhan rinses away the soap, even though it makes the tub pitch beneath him like a storm-tossed boat. When he sways, Lan Zhan is there to steady him.

Unconsciously, he starts to hum beneath his breath: a melody with no name, formed from his scattered thoughts like fog gathered in a valley.