"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion." Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples. "They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean." At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.