On the willows there, we hung up our lyres

Lan Wangji knew that already, because he recognized it, but it is better for Galahad to have come to the realization himself. He doesn't answer immediately. He looses one final breath, and indulges himself in cupping the back of Galahad's head in his palm, an affectionate touch to his hair that is without any sort of utility. "No training today. Come inside with me."