Lan Wangji's relationship with himself is such a straightforward one that this nearly gives him pause. He sees himself; he knows who he is. He knows the things he wants and he knows his strengths. He knows his weaknesses and he knows what causes him pain. If he ran into himself, he can hardly imagine what they would have to say to one another. There is nothing to uncover.

He knows, though, that he is not necessarily usual in that. Wei Ying speaks of his own self, prior to his death, with equal derision and half-condescending affection. I was so embarrassing, Lan Zhan! he'll sigh. Lan Wangji doesn't think he was embarrassing. He thinks that Wei Ying was young and lost and terrified, too confident one moment and too afraid to listen to his own brilliant mind in the next.

It doesn't surprise him at all that Claudius is the same way, that he entered an encounter with his distorted mirror with defenses up. It surprises him about neither of them, in fact. The look on his face melts into something almost nakedly affectionate. "Now that you know it is possible," he says gently, "perhaps you can try it for yourself, in your own mind."