Lan Wangji knows Galahad, and Galahad's body, in the way that only a teacher can, in the way that a teacher has to. He knows the way he holds himself when he is tiring; he knows how far he can push Galahad past that first wave of weariness, how to make it satisfying and how to call a stop when it is only stubbornness for stubbornness' sake.

"Stop," he says, barely an incense time into this afternoon's practice.