[zhongli says he doesn't have to offer apologies, but a part of the medicine seller wants to be so contrary so badly that he does so anyway, bowing his head again, if just to push forward this notion that he is not quite as strong-willed as he is.

a bartering skill, this is, perhaps one for zhongli to take note of.]

Apologies. [he repeats, firmly.] My inability to take note of their rites does not mean they do not exist. [he's smiling under his bowed head. his voice is fairly quiet, calm.] I did not mean to imply otherwise.

[it is only when he raises his head that he appears more dejected than what he actually feels, seeming to listen with intent at the assessment of the bark he's collected for incense. it would be easy to fool any other individual, but this man is certainly an expert.

and the medicine seller is, too. had he not set spirits to their own admittance of death from incense alone? ah, the oleander prank was certainly his favorite—the crunch of a fatally broken neck making it more so delightful.]

What an honor, to be in the presence of a master in the craft. What would you recommend would suit best? To pray to a god.