Gutters. The word slides oddly through Wei Wuxian's fogged thoughts, but the sudden absence of the cool bottle in his hand sobers him right up. "You - " he starts, only to realize that his hand isn't empty. He lifts the jug to his nose, his eyes almost absurdly large when he realizes - "It's wine! And this is - "

Ducking down, Wei Wuxian fills his nose with the smell of congee spiced red with chilis. "So hot, Lan Zhan!" He hadn't even known there was rice here, let alone wine. He gazes at Lan Wangji in wonder. "How?"