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He is always like this: brimming relentlessly with energy, a constant spark agitating beneath his skin, unable to stay still for even a moment. Lan Wangji relishes the power to make him quiet. Wei Ying whimpers softly into the sheets on their bed, a little pool of drool and tears soaking the fabric under his face. It will not be much longer now.
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Lan Wangji: a quiet evening in the jingshi is the perfect opportunity to wax poetical about Wei Ying’s hot bod
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post canon
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