Lifting his head with a tired but automatic smile, ready to be friendly and sweet even though he's exhausted, Huaisang nods at the question, studying this stranger curiously. "There should be, yes. I'll show you."

He rises, cup still in hand, and leads the stranger to the kitchen, pointing at the dregs of the coffee left in the pot. Though it might be polite to refresh the pot, Huaisang simply doesn't know how.

Setting down his own cup, Huaisang performs a brief little bow, arms lifted in front of him with his palms facing toward his own chest. "Huaisang of Qinghe greets you."