He belts his outer robes in place, tightens his hair ribbon a little more, and glances over to Lan Zhan. A deep swell of fondness catches him by surprise; the sight reminds him so much of the first time he ever saw Lan Zhan drunk, Wei Wuxian teasing him that his ribbon was crooked and Lan Zhan earnestly, frantically trying to fix it.
When things were easier -- long before the Sunshot Campaign, the Burial Mounds, Nightless City -- he used to care so little about the Gusu Lan edict that no one touch another's forehead ribbon. He would have cheerily gone over and tried to straighten the ribbon for him, ready for Lan Zhan to push his hand away with a stern look, and he would only grin and laugh in reply.
But when the edict also states that only a significant other can touch the ribbon --
"It looks fine," he assures him from several feet away. He gestures to his own forehead. "Perhaps a centimeter this way."
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When things were easier -- long before the Sunshot Campaign, the Burial Mounds, Nightless City -- he used to care so little about the Gusu Lan edict that no one touch another's forehead ribbon. He would have cheerily gone over and tried to straighten the ribbon for him, ready for Lan Zhan to push his hand away with a stern look, and he would only grin and laugh in reply.
But when the edict also states that only a significant other can touch the ribbon --
"It looks fine," he assures him from several feet away. He gestures to his own forehead. "Perhaps a centimeter this way."