Chu Wanning's eyes soften at the edges in the shadow of a smile, that can be spotted only by someone who knows him well enough to catch the ever minute shift of expression. He likes seeing Mo Ran relax and he likes when he understands what he's explained, because he gains a light in his eyes. Mo Ran has endless potential, that's why Chu Wanning fights so often with his fencing teacher —because he's not one of those people whose only chance at a brighter future is clinging to a sport. He can be anything he sets his mind to, because he's brilliant and determined; Mo Ran himself just forgets it sometimes. And Chu Wanning enjoys patiently teaching him and making him remember that.

"No need." He replies quietly when he's thanked and he walks to the side of the desk now, watching as Mo Ran puts his lesson into practice, humming pleased at the result. "Very good, Mo Ran." He compliments him and he reaches to pat his shoulder in appreciation, before he remembers himself —he's definitely touched him too much today, it's a wonder Mo Ran hasn't shown disgust yet—, and he pulls back, just removing some lint from his student's jacket. Unlike what many think, Chu Wanning is not stingy with praise, when it's deserved. He just doesn't like making a big scene over achievements, as much as he doesn't like making a big scene in general, to be fair.

"When you're done with that sentence, you can go." He declares softly, while pacing in the opposite direction, putting some distance between them. He's been too close for too long, it's unbefitting. He turns his arm wrist up, to check his watch: Mo Ran shouldn't be late for practice, if he puts the same effort he's put so far and finishes it off neatly. There's no need to keep him there for longer and make him boil in resentment for missing his beloved fencing, when they've miraculously reached a truce today.