Lan Wangji listens quietly and fondly to this recitation of Crowley's attributes. He drinks his tea, thinking on how perceptions of another's nature may shift over time. He never feared Crowley, particularly, but he also never anticipated tolerating him, even occasionally enjoying him, to such a degree.

He does actually have some idea of Crowley's logic on this false assumption specifically. "He encountered me at fifteen," he admits, faintly rueful about the memory. "When he spoke Wei Ying's name, I was... agitated." The conclusion Crowley drew is evident, although Lan Wangji is unsure how it was not obvious that he was not his usual self at the time.