Wei Ying does the same, retreating a bit more to the other side of the bed. His expression's unusually dark and tense, in a way it hasn't been in over thirteen years. He doesn't like being angry, especially not when he still remembers more of the terrible extremes his rage had driven him to their younger years. Resentful energy corrupting his mind and body had only been a part of his problems back then.

"Both your brother and your uncle wanted me dead once, too."

It's cruel to bring it up, even in calm, neutral tone and he regrets it immediately. But he's just so frustrated with his situation. Wei Ying's not a child or a total idiot. Nor is he the same person he'd been at the Cloud Recesses, or at Lotus Pier, or the person who'd laid waste to so many cultivatiors during his time as the Yiling Patriarch.

"I've survived worse threats than sharing a few drinks with Jin Guangyao," he continues, trying to soften his tone into something a little more reassuring. "And there's still plenty of people out there who would gladly see me dead. Ones with far more resources and reach than he has anymore."