Wei Wuxian stares at him, then claps both hands to his mouth to stifle a peal of giggles. "Lan Zhan," he says, delighted, "Do you mean when I come?" It's so scandalous that he can hardly speak it aloud, but the kettle begins to sing in the next moment, and Wei Wuxian springs upright yet again.

He returns with a filled pot and two cups, ears still a little red as he gazes at Lan Wangji. "It might be difficult," he posits. "You might have to make several attempts."