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    Summary

    Wangji is flushed. His breath comes short. His glare does nothing to hide the fact that his fists are balled at his side to keep himself from reaching out to grab the edge of Wei Wuxian’s dark robes. To. To

    “To take in his scent,” Xichen says the words in awe over Lan Qiren’s shoulder. He shakes his head, bewildered. “I didn’t know young master Wei was an alpha.”

    “Delightful,” Lan Qiren mutters, glaring daggers at the young man chatting up his precious nephew, enticing him against his will. “It’s always one thing after another with him.”

    Xichen hums. “Wangji could certainly stand to make a friend.”

    “A friend,” Lan Qiren scoffs. As if that’s where they’d draw the line.

    Or, Lan Qiren's no good, very bad year.

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