Lan Zhan leans away just a little as he shakes his head decisively.

"Think Wei Ying is much better suited to it," he offers, looking as if Wei Ying had tried to place a crown of snakes upon his head.

He shoves Wei Ying's rice wine a little closer, hoping the distraction will work.

"Keep it. Continue being happy," he says, gesturing at the bodies swaying softly under the stars to the soft music. He feels bold with happiness at the idea that they will go home, together. "After food. We should do that."