Again? The word lands sour in Wei Wuxian's belly. What is it that he's doing? Bringing rain to a rice paddy that needs it - it's not as if the rice cares what the hour is. It's only Lan Zhan, his poor, stubborn Lan Zhan who can't bear to stay up past sunset that's riled. The barrier makes for a cover from the rain over his head, and again Wei Wuxian makes sure that it avoids Lan Zhan, also, even if he can't bear to look at his furious face.

Lan Zhan will be alright. He simply needs to sleep, and he'll feel better come morning. Passing a hand beneath his suddenly itching nose, Wei WUxian doesn't notice that it comes away wet.