"There was a whole thing, a couple weeks ago," says Shen Qingqiu. "Bunch of us got, like, age-regressed, I ran into Hanguang-jun, he nearly yeeted me into the void." He shrugs. "I'm not actually mad at him about this part—it's like, what he does, you know? I am, technically, a restless spirit. I just don't want him to do it again, at least not until I get the chance to, um." He flushes, and gestures at himself, trying to convey the whole bl pollen thing without derailing back into who he wants to kiss and why.