"Lan Xichen," Runyu murmurs, sighing the man's name out in patience, but also in sternness. He trails fingers through the mortal's hair, fixing him with a steady gaze. It is not arrogance he hears, but despair, but the words of a man refusing to tend to his own house while it burns, eyes only on the troubles of those around him.

"You cannot pour from an empty cup. You cannot give from an empty purse. You cannot love from an empty heart," he goes on, pressing the flat of his hand against Xichen's chest at his last words. "You must want for yourself before you can want for others. You must have for yourself before you can share with others. Once you are able to come from a place of substance, perhaps you and your sworn brother will be able to find solid ground."