[ a significant amount, yi sang says. hong lu thinks about this. he doesn't think he's ever done anything for a significant amount, or anything that matters, or anything that he's bothered measuring. perhaps the exercises he does every morning, or perhaps fighting, though hong lu wouldn't say he's the world's best in any of those things either. yi sang's face is tucked in the crook of hong lu's shoulders. suddenly, hong lu is overcome with curiosity. he wonders what kind of face yi sang is making right now.

gently, he begins to peel yi sang where he is moored. as he does so, he says: ]

Hmm... I don't think I was before. But all this has made me think. [ hong lu smiles. ] Maybe I won't go for the world's best kisser title. But I can go for the world's best at kissing you title, right? How much practise do you think I need to earn that one?