The young man's face is not quite the one he remembers, when he opens his eyes and seeks out the person who waited respectfully for him to finish, but - after the previous two encounters...

There is neither resentment nor fear in anything about him. Not the eyes, not the posture. There is ... anxiousness, he thinks.

Xichen knows that Jin Guangyao is a flawless actor, and yet. He can see this kind of expression, pose, and imagine him dressed in Nie colors. Not before that, when they first met; not after that, in Jin colors. Neither while he was ... he must have been performing his father's errands, and not after, when all the world could bow before him.

He takes a breath, and realizes even the simple greeting is hard for him to get out.

But he must.

He cups his hands, but doesn't look down or away. How the address will be taken will tell him, the thinks, a lot about his guesses.

"Young master Meng."

Did he space out while trying to sort himself out? Probably. Did blood drain from his face, leaving his lips pale, when he thought he recognized the slighter figure? Also yes. But at least his voice is quiet and steady. Neutral, almost.