Lan Zhan manages as close to a pout as he will allow himself as he pushes himself back to sit up, determined not to show up to the healer, riding a donkey and slumped over.

Uncle might find this even more undignified than he and Wei Ying's recent behavior.

"Wei Ying," he intones, as he notices pieces of hair fluttering into his face. He knows his ribbon made it on but he cannot remember much else about his morning grooming routine. "Is my hair messy?" He turns wide, aching eyes on him once more. He threw up in public with messy hair and then fell onto the ground.