Huaisang pulls against the heavy, taut drape of the hanfu’s collar and the layers underneath, revealing barely a triangle of his pale clavicle and shoulder as he fans himself from the heat. It’s a tantalizing strip of skin, and before Mingjue can drag his eyes away, the glint of silver catches his gaze. Is that - ? Mingjue only gets a glimpse. Nestled between Huaisang’s skin and the gauzy white inner robe, there’s a strip of silver-black. A strap. A - a bra strap. It burns at the back of his mind for hours, like an ember in the dark, a glow he can see even with his eyes closed. What is Huaisang hiding, underneath all those layers?