Wei Wuxian has his chin pillowed on both hands, watching the little paper cutout scoot across the table. When it reaches the teacup, it leaps forward and smacks its whole body against it, the tips of its arms curled over the rim like tiny hands.

Nothing happens. Wei Wuxian's expression falls.

And then there is a little pop, and a rattle, as the teacup jumps an inch into the air and clatters back against the wood.

"Hah!" he exclaims, delighted. As he leans over to scoop up the doll, he spots Lan Zhan, and his expression brightens even more. "Lan Zhan!"

He waves an arm overhead.