Huaisang's answer only seems to fuel Lan Xichen's anger. There's small flares of pain as the other claws at him, but he barely feels it in the face of his rage. "I do," he snarls. "Have I not shown that? Mingjue and I meet every week so I can learn more, so I know what will please you, what to surprise you with - and every time I tell him how your face lit up at the last one, how I love to see you smile. He thinks you're happy! I thought you were happy!"

He'd brought one of Qinghe's cooks in, on Mingjue's recommendations, he'd learned what he could of the Nie's customs - those that did not directly contradict the Lan's, of course - he thought he was doing so well.

But Huaisang had been lying to him. Playing him.

"They told me I was foolish. That you haven't had enough time, haven't been treated properly, that you couldn't be a true partner yet, but I didn't listen."

He rips the ribbon from his forehead, sliding his hand up a little so he can press it to Huaisang's throat. The delicate blue embroidery against the silky white fabric glows for a moment, then the ribbon wraps itself around Huaisang's neck. Instead of knotting, though, it folds back in on itself, the fabric blending together until there's no visible break.

Sealed completely, until Lan Xichen removes it. He lets go of Huaisang's neck.

"They were right. And it seems I have a lot of catching up to do."