He is, Lan Wangji could say. He is brilliant and too clever for his own good and so deeply kind and loyal that it killed him.

He could master his expression entirely and allow none of that overpowering fondness to slip through. But in this moment, he doesn't bother, though the resulting effect is still subtle. "Mn," he agrees, one clipped syllable to encompass twenty years of love. "There is someone you wish to marry?"