Ruì Xuě appeared behind him, more cautious, his purple eyes scanning the room. "Papa said we shouldn't run. Papa said we shouldn't—" He stopped. Looked at Hóng Yè holding the baby. Looked at Dà Jiāo Huǒ sitting in his chair looking like he had been through a war. "Is Zhēn okay?"
"Zhēn is fine," Hóng Yè said. "The dragon is having a crisis."
"I am not having a crisis," Dà Jiāo Huǒ said.
"You screamed loud enough to wake the entire peak."
"I did not scream. I... called. Loudly. For assistance."
Yòu Lín was already climbing onto the chair beside him, his small paws leaving prints on the ancient silk. "Are you okay? You look weird. Your scales are doing a thing. They're all flat. Is that bad? Does that mean you're sad? When I'm sad my ears go flat. When Papa is sad his tails go flat. When Uncle Sparkles is sad he eats pastries. Do you want pastries? I can get pastries. There are pastries in the kitchen. I know where the kitchen is. I can—"
"Yòu Lín," Hóng Yè said.
"I'm helping."
