No. No, just. Just like this.

[ He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment and feeling for his internal power. It trickles through him, slow and stuttering, but it doesn't stop, doesn't tangle into gnarls, doesn't burn with the feeling of qi falling into an abyss when he tries to channel it. Blindly, he reaches out, turning his palm so he can rest his wrist on Wen Kexing's thigh. It's an open, silent offer to feel--though he has no doubt Lao Wen's had his fingers on his pulse the whole time he was unconscious. ]