He is not proud of the thrill that gives him, the idea of Wei Wuxian smelling of something he gave him. It is a possessive feeling he has felt many times before and knows is wrong. He's never been able to stop. If anything it has gotten worse with each passing year.

"Do not plan to give it to anyone but you," he states, bicep burning as he lowers him self with one hand to the next rung, now only a few feet from the ground.

"Wei Wuxian's liquor. Wei Wuxian should name it."