If that happens, Lan Wangji will just cook for him. They'll eat like they do at Cloud Recesses. If they could get outside again, they could start a farm, do a little planting. Wouldn't be so hard, living like that. Lan Wangji already gets up at five every morning, he can tend to the crops. Wei Ying can wake up later and catch fish in the river.

But anyway, so much for that imagined life, they're stuck in a hotel eating things like ugh, chicken tenders and barbecue sauce.

Lan Wangji digs up his sleeve and hands him a ballpoint pen that he'd forgotten to return at the store. He doesn't really know how to write with it, because everything he writes turns ugly, but the only thing he'd really written on was a napkin. Didn't really help.