Lan Zhan stifles a sigh nearly as large as he cannot, cannot deny that face and Wei Ying's attempts to put his own hair up in anything resembling a proper hairstyle are failing.

He reaches over and carefully extracts Wei Ying's hair from his hands until he has it all gathered in his own. "Would be more indecent to allow you to have messy hair," he mutters, fingers already smoothing and combing through the dark strands. "Deserve hairstyle as lovely as you are."