Lan Wangji realizes that he has never thought of Uncle in the terms of love and wonders if part of his eternal ire is the lack of it. It is sad, as angry as Lan Wangji was when they parted.

"If Wei Ying says it is then it must be so," he murmurs with a sage nod and a sound kiss. "Wei Ying is happy, then? Do you want for anything?" he asks, running his thumb across Wei Ying's sharp cheekbone.