( McCoy looks up from the fussing he's doing with his shirt sleeves – damn thing must've shrank in the wash – to blink at the young man, and have a second's internal panic. Should... does he bow too? (He should really ask Wei Wuxian for advice on Chinese etiquette...)

Answering him immediately seems the better course, so McCoy spreads his hands before him, a lightly placative gesture. )

It's all right; you're not the first to ask. Each suite has its own bathing room– the cubicle inside it is a shower. ( And, after looking speculatively over the man's worn hanfu, he adds, ) Like washin' in a rainstorm. C'mon, you can use mine.

What's your name?