Some guys just can't resist doing a comrade a favor.

“You missed the discussion conference,” Jiang Cheng snaps back at him, whipping his head up stiffly from his perfunctory bow.

Nie Huaisang’s smile doesn’t waver, his entire expression perfectly, painstakingly polite. He looks pale, but anyone of his mettle would, clad in the violent contrast of silver and black. It all relinquishes nothing to Jiang Cheng but the means to inflame his irritation for the situation and for himself. He had left the conference too quickly to contemplate his …

(What urge will save him now that sex won't?)

He wonders, for all the seconds it takes for Tang Fan to start to move, if he’s fallen asleep again. He’s not convinced it is at all possible for him to have a dream as odd as this, as ominous, as wonderful. The Tang Fan that is trying to kick his bare feet beneath the lifted linens while all the heat Sui Zhou’s body has pressed into them escapes is too wholly fleshed out to be one of Sui Zhou’s fantasies.

Hickey shows Crozier something new.

Hal gets stabbed; Hickey gets invasive.

Gibson is a generous giver and Hickey is only too happy to receive.

If Jiang Cheng kills him here — so long as he sits with Wei Wuxian’s body in this field until he grows cold, and he does not return to Lotus Pier — his life will have been worth its cost.

Spring comes, and Nie Huaisang is seen with his sabre for the first time since— anyone's guess as to when.

Tang Fan is not a simple man, by any means.