Hmm. Someone very lucky, perhaps the winter breeze or the spring flower petals as they fell upon your lips.

[Oh no he was getting poetic now. Help. His stomach was lean, with scars from wounds self-inflicted. One for the sword he pushed in to escape from NMJ's wrath in Langlya, one thin one where he hid a guqin string, several small cuts from the war. His muscles jumped as Lan Xichen explored.]

Perhaps even one of Wangji's bunnies.