Shen Qingqiu blinks as both of his friends start talking to him at once, and when he's processed what they're saying—specifically what Magnus is saying—he rubs both of his hands over his face, keeps his face in his hands for a long moment, and then leans over to where Magnus had dropped all his stuff and grabs himself a root beer.

"Well. Okay. First of all—yes, Galahad, I'm okay." He flashes him a smile and opens the root beer. "I'm great, actually, better than I have been. Up until a few days ago I was fatally poisoned, but that's fixed, so, yay." He cracks his neck. "Second of all, Magnus, Binghe is not a god. If he told you he was, he was probably just being..." he gestures, somehow exasperated and fond at once. "Binghe about it. Third of all he would never abandon anyone he knocked up, which is part of how he got to over s—" he course corrects, "one hundred wives. And fourth of all, I'm not technically mortal, anyway." He takes a long pull from his root beer. "Does that help?"