[ Zhongli turns to her mid-sentence, pine cone still precariously balanced in the palm of his hand. ]

Ah, my apologies. We need not talk about this at all.

[ And he pauses to nestle said pine cone near the roots of a nearby tree where it has the possibility to take root and grow into another magnificent pine. Should nature be willing.

And farther down the foggy winding path they travel. ]

Is there something else you wish to talk about instead?