He slammed his hand on the bartop at the strange comparison. Because clearly he didn't quite understand it in a brain that is already well beyond the point of clarity. "Are you comparing my Lan Zhan to a pickled plum??"

He feels insulted without even completely understanding why. And that isn't even the point of the comparison but it's forgotten almost as soon as he says it. "Lan Zhan is the most precious of wines. Strong and with a hidden flavor to it that you don't expect when you first encounter it." There is a fondness as he speaks and maybe a little heartache as well...since he hasn't exactly made up with his Lan Zhan since the fight they had.

He signals for another drink, this one now long gone. If he's going to start crying then he wants to have the excuse of having hit that point int he drinking process.