Indeed, if Lan Wangji had not wanted to do this, it would have been evident from the moment Claudius asked. So bidden, he steps inside. He likes to see the ways in which this room has evolved over time, from the day that he sat in it as Claudius grappled with Galahad's absence to this morning, when it could not be more obvious that this is a home for two people. Unaware of the meal rotation, and keenly aware of his own tendency to grow fond of people who are poor at caring for themselves, he produces two still-warm youtiao from his qiankun pouch, wrapped neatly in wax paper, and presses them into Claudius' hand. "What is the purpose of the workbook?" he asks, sincerely curious.