Zichen finds the towel when he's done, dries himself off and then dresses slowly, pulling his robes back on layer by layer, his fingers hesitating before making himself continue. What other option does he have. But by the time it's done, he ends up just standing there for a moment, staring at the room.

And then moves to leave, footsteps carrying him outside, his expression neutral.

"I'll be back later, Xingchen." Because he needs to do something, anything now and maybe he can help other people.

Anything to get his mind off this.