Something flickers briefly in Wei Wuxian's eyes: a shadow that belies the easy cheer he has exhibited through the entire conversation.

It was not very long ago that he stood outside and watched one of Harrow's skeletons transform, unbidden. He wonders if the dead can carry their own dead around as Kevin describes. If, even now, his shijie hovers just beyond the edge of his sight.

"Yes," he says, a little quieter than he means. "I can believe that."