“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji whispers tenderly, touching his loved one’s forehead with infinite love.

After many, many long years of waiting, they lay on the soft grass of the meadow field: carefree, happy, in love. Wangji’s hand stealthily, as if by chance, touches Wei Wuxian’s hand, and he feels all the warmth of his palm, slightly calloused.

"You're warm."