"Ah," Huaisang says, with almost the air of someone who thinks that's disgusting, until he holds one sleeve back and reaches immediately for a chip, to consider its size and shape and how much weird-looking shit it can fit on top of it without spilling - or snapping. "Then it's just like the favored games of us disciples visiting Gusu."

A beat.

"Not any of the Lan sect, though. Don't tell er-ge." Er-ge absolutely knows they made horrible snack messes at least twice weekly at Lan high school, because Lan Wangji absolutely caught them, and so it went. Now, observing the nachos...

"Shen-ge, I don't know what half of these things are."