He must be from a different time entirely, then. Whether backward or forward in time, he doesn't know. But he'd hate to think of a time in the future when the Lan Sect was no longer, wiped away off the map, a relic not even remembered.

"Overwatch Council of where?" he asks. He has heard of a few Yans, but none of too much note. Perhaps he was a descendant, then. Or an ancestor.

His robes don't look of a particularly old style.

Lan Wangji's mouth tightens in confusion.