He doesn’t know the answer to the question, nor does he totally understand why Wei Ying is asking it. He clearly hasn’t possessed another body - he’s clearly himself - barely aged a day from the moment Lan Zhan lost him.

He has no answers. To any of this. Not why they were here. Not where they were. Not how to get home.

Not how Wei Wuxian was alive.

So he stood silently for a long moment, before slowly walking to the other side of the room. There were plenty of odd decorations but there was one in particular he was looking for. When he had asked the front desk for liquor, they had told him of the “minibar” located in their room. It had taken a moment of confusion and a pointed look from Wangji before they actually managed to explain what one was. A cold box.

He opened a few cabinets before he found it, cold air wafting out of the small black container, full of little bottles. None of them were wines he recognized - in fact they seemed to be mostly spirits - so he merely selected one of each type, pulled his sleeve up like a bowl, and carried them back to Wei Ying. He then laid them down carefully next to him as if it was some sort of offering.

“‘Jeopardy’,” he offered, enunciating the word clearly. “There are no cultivators here. In this city, or this world. Only us.”