Wei Wuxian retains just enough of his mind to steer clear of the worst parts of Lan Zhan's injuries. His lower back wasn't as badly bruised as his shoulders; he wraps both arms around him there as snug as he dares, urging them even closer.

(The scars are another matter. Even this low, he can feel every narrow ridge pressed against his arms.

But if it does not hurt him --

Lan Zhan is still lovely.)

"I love you." He kisses the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder. "My Lan Zhan."