Nie Huaisang flips his fan shut with a fluid pivot of his wrist and taps it to his own mouth, signalling for Jiang Cheng to lower his voice. “So you can see just how serious this is! If it’s found out, we’ll really be in some strife.” “We?” Jiang Cheng gapes at him, and does not lower his voice at all. “We?! There is no we in this! This is a problem of your own making, it can be a problem of your own solving!”

“I would still like to be kissed,” Wangji says, and his hand is very hot on Lan Xichen’s cheek. Perhaps one of them has a fever, or they both do. He opens his mouth to ask if they should open the window for some cool air. His brother kisses him as if that is what Lan Xichen had intended. He will not be sure, later, whether it was.