Claudius laughs because of course Shen Yuan does, but he sets that aside, leans over the bar, and draws hand Shang Qinghua's into his own with a sliding, teasing touch. "Let me praise thee," he says, and he kisses that hand. "The most extravagant praises, of course, are always for looks. I know not how thou didst look before thou hadst this form -- but I can say thou wear'st it well, as thou wear'st thy dahlia, and both are lovelier for adorning thee. And what thou art, within that charming form, is an artist's mind. The mind of an artist is always more beautiful than the thing it creates, more full of possibility. Thou canst write stories of erotic longing, and thou canst speak in stirring ideas about the illusions of power, about dreams unfulfilled. Why would I ask thee to tell me nicer stories, for the sake of thy character? Speak to me more of longing and desire, but let it be thy desires."