Lan Zhan's fingers fly, eyes never wavering from Wei Ying's side until the last stitch is done and then only to grab more salve to spread over the stitched wound. Then and only then does he allow himself to wipe down his hands and look up at Wei Ying's agonized face.

"Worked. Bleeding has stopped," he murmurs, lying down alongside Wei Ying and carefully rolling him once more, this time to rest on Lan Zhan's front. Wei Ying's skin is ice cold and he longs for his core to be able to heal him faster. He carefully tries to arrange him to keep pressure off the wounds, kissing his face as he works. "Lan Zhan is here. Worst is over."