This man talks and talks and offers little that he doesn't already know. The legs on the ship? Perhaps the one tidbit that he hadn't found out for himself yet. He would have to verify this later, as absurd as it sounded.

Honourable master. The Wanderer's eyebrow twitches slightly. "Quit calling me that. I am no one's master," he says as he allows the glow of energy on his body to die down and shifts his posture to be far less imposing, though no less irritated. In fact, he's even more irritated by the man's simpering.

"Who are you? Are you from Liyue," the drifter asks.