Sunny is a soothing presence even in her silence, a tidy bundle of life and potential, trusting him enough -- something that seems exceptionally precious after all her losses -- to put her cheek on his shoulder and let him hold her. Having only one hand available lengthens the cleaning process, but Lan Wangji doesn't mind it. He certainly minds it less than he would mind disturbing her. Her parents are gone; she has been taken from her home. The mansion has a collective responsibility to her.

In time, he's tidied the kitchen to his satisfaction. The room is fragrant with the slow-simmering beef, spiced and spicy in equal measure, and Lan Wangji sets Sunny carefully atop the counter again. "We have yet to add one thing to this dish," he says, meeting her gaze with solemnity.