[ Is he expected to answer that? It goes without saying.

Lacking tenderness, Tartaglia's dragging a sloppy hand over his face, scrubbing out the rest of the tears. He isn't so principled that's accomplished well; all of these problems compound and the damage is horrible and self-inflicted. It just gets worse, dealing with such seriousness here when nothing's present that can dial it back.

Turns out that he doesn't want reconciliation, in the end. ]

And if I say something you disagree with, you'll strike at me? Just like before?

[ So much of it is just ego. Even Tartaglia has his dignity, wounded and not at all placated. Of course, it's also his own fault. Maybe it would've been easier if He Xuan defused it another way, rather than wearing his face and saying things that he didn't ask for. Never was he expecting to be answered like this. ]

Sorry. I think I'll be disappointing you again.

[ Tartaglia pulls away. ]

I only wanted your reason. ... Don't follow me. I'm taking some time for myself.

[ It'll be a little easier to withstand this when he isn't looking at his own face, and he turns curtly, striding off. ]

Bye.