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I.
They were but strangers still.
Though Beidou had just completed her third job for Ningguang, this was her first time learning that she’d been working for her at all.
“I was starting to wonder if I’d ever find out who was hiring me,” Beidou commented over a cup of probably the most expensive tea she’d ever had in her life. The attendant who’d served it to her had gone into some long-winded spiel about where it had been grown and how it had been made, but she’d been too focused on the woman sitting across from her to pay any attention.
Ningguang looked every part the owner of the Jade Chamber they sat within. The gold in her jewelry and the patterning in her dress perfectly complemented the sleek, elegant decor of the Chamber’s interior, as if she had strolled right out of the painted walls themselves.
She smiled, eyes shrewd. “I’ll admit I was surprised to see you accepted my commissions despite not being aware of my identity. The rumors paint you as a more…discerning individual.”
At that, Beidou threw her head back and laughed, her voice resonating throughout the enormous tea room. The two attendants standing at the door flinched. “I’m as much a businesswoman as you are, O illustrious Tianquan. Even I find it hard to say no to a contract with so many zeroes written in it.”
“It was a relief for me to learn as much,” Ningguang said. “However, the reason I invited you here and revealed myself to you was to warn you. Your methods drew too much attention, and you nearly compromised the confidentiality of the operations you undertook.”
“Hmm? What, so you brought me here to fire me?”
“No, I have no intention of doing such a thing.” Ningguang took a quiet, dignified sip of her tea. “Despite your uncouth methods, you were the only contractor who managed to complete my requests at all.”
“Oho…so you had multiple people doing the same job.”
“You served as each other’s contingency plans in order to guarantee success.”
Beidou grinned, catching on. “You also wanted to judge who you’ll continue business with.”
“I see your wit is only just about as sharp as your blade is.” Ningguang sighed and waved over an attendant, who held in her hands what appeared to be a rather long document. “But then again, I only really need you for your blade in the first place. Shall we sign the next contract, Captain Beidou?”
“Hah! It’s not every day I meet a woman I actually have trouble keeping up with,” Beidou chortled, resolutely keeping her gaze averted from what was undoubtedly an even bigger number than the previous contract had promised. “How about some negotiations first, since we finally get to do this face to face?”
Ningguang raised a single delicate eyebrow, but maintained a calm, genial veneer as she leaned back ever so slightly in her seat. “Very well. What are your terms?”
“Let’s start simple.” Beidou drained her cup of now lukewarm tea in one gulp. It went smoothly down her throat, fragrant and mild. “Yeah, not gonna cut it. If we’re going to be seeing each other on a regular basis like this, you’re going to need to stock up on some drink of the harder variety.”
II.
Beidou knew about Ningguang, but only as much as everyone else did.
She knew that Ningguang was so rich she could afford to own ten Jade Chambers, and that the only reason she didn’t was probably because she couldn’t get them built fast enough. She knew that Ningguang spent just as much of her time down in the streets of Liyue Harbor as she did watching over it from above, exploring food stands and purchasing small trinkets from jewelry and porcelain ware shops.
Beidou also knew that visitors to the Jade Chamber often brought extravagant gifts in hopes of earning Ningguang’s favor, but she told herself that this wasn’t the reason she was currently hefting a large wooden crate onto the impeccably crafted jade-surface table in the Chamber’s parlor.
“Put it on a shelf, or something,” Beidou said as she pried the lid off with a bare hand, the nails that once previously held it fast in place popping off one by one and clattering loudly onto the polished stone floor. “It’ll give you something besides all this gold and brown to look at.”
Ningguang didn’t even bother looking inside the crate before replying, “I don’t typically accept gifts from contractors. I hope you’ll understand…”
“Then consider it a discount for my services on the next job,” Beidou said smoothly, having anticipated this. “Or a thank you, for not getting my crew involved in the shit I get mixed up in for you.”
“Well, if I wanted quantity and sheer force over quality and discretion, I would simply have mobilized the Millelith.”
Beidou chuckled as she reached into the crate and pulled out a large glaze lily. Its light blue petals, each about the size of an adult’s hand, were unfurled in full bloom, the stem slim but strong as it rose out of a large obsidian pot. It was a sight to behold in its near perfection, but its most impressive feature was that it was carved entirely from a single piece of noctilucous jade.
A look of genuine surprise mixed with what could even have been excitement crossed Ningguang’s face for but a fraction of a second before she ruled it back into a polite neutral expression—but Beidou had seen it.
“So, what do you think? This is the kind of fine craftsmanship that not even money can buy, you know,” Beidou boasted, as if she herself had made it.
“Then I won’t ask what you bought it for,” Ningguang said. “…But I will accept it. Thank you.”
As an attendant carried the lily off to be displayed somewhere (hopefully within sight for her next visit), Beidou took a seat and began inspecting the label of a bottle of sorghum wine that had been on the table when she’d arrived. She didn’t recognize the brand, but it looked like high quality stuff, not that she was particularly picky with her alcohol. Still, it was a good effort on Ningguang’s part. Satisfied, she looked up to continue the conversation.
“So, which of your precious rules have I broken this time?”
Ningguang’s expression soured, and Beidou couldn’t help but find it somewhat endearing. She liked to imagine there weren’t many people out there who could get such a reaction out of her.
“You’ve broken too many to count,” Ningguang said. “And these aren’t just personal ‘rules’ of mine. They’re policies that all the people of Liyue accept as law.”
“Isn’t it exhausting keeping track of every single one of them? Besides, if this is about the goods I pawned off into the underground market, the profits I gained are going into feeding those kids you’re always hanging out with down in the city, anyway.” Beidou put her hands up in the figure of a balanced scale. “Doesn’t that make this a win-win situation?”
“I didn’t think I would have to remind you that I’ve already built several housing institutions over the past four months for that exact purpose, through entirely legitimate means. And besides—” Ningguang paused here to pull out a large, incredibly thick scroll “—those aren’t the only violations you’ve committed, and not all of them were for such selfless reasons.”
“You know, if you wanted to keep me all for yourself tonight, you should have just said so.” Beidou popped the cork off of the wine bottle and, choosing to forego the glasses that had been provided, took a swig. It was hard and smooth, with a deeply satisfying burn going down. With a grin, Beidou leaned back in her seat, propped her feet up on the table, and prepared herself for a long evening of lectures.
III.
“Doesn’t the quiet up here ever bother you?” Beidou asked one day over a round of Liyue Millennial that she had foolishly agreed to. Regular chess against Ningguang was one thing, but Beidou doubted there was anyone in the world who could beat her at her own game.
“On the contrary, it helps me think,” Ningguang replied. She was waiting patiently for Beidou to make her next move, all the while knowing she was going to win anyway.
“But what about when you’re sleeping? Nobody likes to sleep in absolute silence,” Beidou insisted. She paused, grip tightening around the dice she was about to roll for her turn. “Do you sleep up here?”
“Only when I can’t afford to be away from my work for too long.” Ningguang’s gaze was fixed on Beidou’s hand, as if daring her to make the move. “And you’re right. I much prefer to fall asleep to the bustle of Liyue’s nightlife, but the quiet doesn’t bother me. I suppose someone who sleeps every night to the sound of waves lapping against their walls wouldn’t quite understand.”
Beidou laughed and tossed the dice onto the board. “You’re not wrong about that.”
The two of them leaned over the board to peer at the numbers Beidou had rolled: 2 on the six-sided die, and 1 on the ten-sided die.
“Ugh.” Beidou moved her piece north two spaces, then south-west one space.
“No,” Ninguang said, reaching out to correct her, moving the piece west one space instead, so that it landed in front of the Wanmin Restaurant. “You’ll have to surrender your piece to me, or feed a lower ranked one to it to keep it on the board.”
“What? But I’m already running out of lower ranked pieces!”
“Then perhaps you should reflect on the strategic weaknesses of your previous moves.”
Beidou groaned. “How am I supposed to keep track of all the rules in this game?”
“Practice, Captain Beidou. Experience is our most valuable teacher for all things in life.”
“You should know by now that playing by the rules doesn’t suit me, no matter how many times the world tells me it should.” Beidou grinned up at Ningguang. “Or is this your roundabout way of showing me you can make me?”
“Not particularly,” Ningguang said, propping her cheek on her hand as she moved her gaze across the board, already planning her next move.
Beidou, however, had to pause as she registered that. “You mean you didn’t invite me here to tell me to stop breaking the law again?”
“I just thought we might play a few rounds of chess together, that’s all.” Ningguang glanced up at Beidou through her lashes. “That is, unless you prefer to continue reviewing your transgressions against various Liyue policies…”
“No, chess is good,” Beidou replied hastily. She plucked one of her pieces from the board and tossed it into a small basket on the side. “There, I’m staying at Wanmin. Good thing I didn’t bet anything on this game.”
“Betting is only enjoyable when accompanied by the hope of victory—or, conversely, the risk of defeat.” Ningguang let out a small, almost disappointed-sounding sigh. “Perhaps I should simplify some of the rules to better accommodate my opponents.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll have mastered this game before you know it.” Beidou glanced towards the enormous, tome-like rulebook Ningguang had handed her when they first began playing, several hours ago. At least now she had something to read before bed for the next few months.
“I look forward to the day when we can play as equals.” A tiny smile played at Ningguang’s lips as she rolled her dice, then moved her piece onto the harbor.
Beidou felt her cheeks grow warm, and found herself hiding a smile of her own. “So, what happens at the harbor?”
“I can choose a piece nearby to take onto a ferry with me, or leave it here for a turn to promote it,” Ningguang murmured. After a short moment of deliberation, she placed two of her pieces onto a small model replica of the Pearl Galley.
“As always, you’re a woman of extravagant tastes.” Beidou flicked the model of the Alcor, where it drifted near the shores of the Stone Forest. She knew her own ship well enough to tell from just a glance that it was a startlingly accurate replica, down to the textures of the wooden floorboards. She tried not to think too hard about how that might have been achieved. “You ever been out to sea?”
“I’m afraid not,” Ningguang replied.
Beidou’s eyebrows went up in genuine surprise. “Really! Not even for a joy ride on the Galley?”
“I can never seem to find the time. My duties to Liyue keep me from straying too far from the land.”
“Huh. You’re probably the only person in Liyue who sees the city more regularly from up above than from out at sea.” Beidou grinned. “You should come along with us sometime, just to get a taste of that salt in the air. We’d have you back by nightfall.”
“While it is an appealing offer…” Ningguang trailed off without finishing, as if she was genuinely reluctant to return to the topic of her obligations.
“It’s an open one,” Beidou said. “Even if it takes you until you’re old and withered to find a few hours in your day, the Crux will be here.”
As Ningguang stared down at the Alcor replica, her expression hardened briefly, as if she were holding herself back from something, before she schooled it once again. Quietly, she held out her hand. “I’ll hold you to that, then.”
Beidou disguised a happy gasp with a loud, full-bellied laugh. “Leave it to a businesswoman of Liyue to make a contract out of a simple promise between friends!” She grasped Ningguang’s hand, her calloused fingers curling around the other’s steel nail caps, and squeezed until she felt warmth building between their palms.
“May Rex Lapis himself strike me down if on that day you look out onto the harbor and don’t find me there waiting.”
IV.
The first time Ningguang was late to one of their meetings, Beidou couldn’t help but be worried.
She nudged at Baishi, the attendant who had led her into the usual tea room. “She’s here, right?”
“Lady Ningguang will be with you shortly, yes,” Baishi replied, stone-faced. It made Beidou wonder if Ningguang purposely trained her staff to be as unreadable as she was—with less than half the charm she had in the execution.
But Beidou took her at her word, and so took her usual seat, where the usual bottle of high-end wine sat waiting to be enjoyed. She waited too, gaze wandering around the familiar decor of the tea room—shelves and dressers crafted from sturdy bamboo gilded in gold, or dark cherrywood coated in a shining lacquer. The jade glaze lily sat on a small end table next to a lounging sofa where she knew Ningguang liked to look out towards the city below sometimes, and the sunlight currently streaming through the window cast a glow against the lily’s semi-translucent petals.
Ten minutes passed. Something didn’t feel right.
“You know, if she’s busy, I can come another time…”
“No need.”
At that moment, Ningguang strolled through the painted sliding door of the tea room, clutching a scroll tightly in her hand.
Beidou huffed out a shaky, dry laugh. “I was wondering if you’d gotten lost on the way here.”
“Baishi, I’d like you to excuse yourself for now. Close the door behind you and make sure no one disturbs us,” Ningguang ordered as she took her seat. She didn’t so much as glance Beidou’s way until Baishi had done as directed, the door closing with a muted thump behind her.
“This is new,” Beidou muttered, leaning back in her seat to get a better look at Ningguang.
She appeared to be the same as always, meticulously dressed and well composed, but then Beidou noticed the tension in her jaw, the barest pursing of her lips—and the tightness of her shoulders, as if she was carrying on them something no one else could see.
“Hey,” Beidou said. “What the hell’s going on?”
Ningguang placed the scroll on the table, but didn’t take her hand off of it. “Your next assignment.”
Beidou cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t read it if you don’t let me have it.”
“Before you accept it, I want to add an amendment to the terms.”
“Couldn’t you have just written it in?”
“…No, because it’s not something I can bind you with a contract into doing.” Ningguang glanced away, her grip tightening fractionally on the scroll. “It’s more of a request.”
“Well, lay it on me, then,” Beidou said with a shrug. This wasn’t the first time Ningguang had requested something informally of her, whether it was running mundane errands down in the city or making mean faces at some merchants who were stepping out of line.
Still, the vaguely uncomfortable look Ningguang wore didn’t go away as she continued on. “After you’ve completed the tasks in the contract, I want you to leave Liyue for a while.”
Beidou took several seconds to wrap her head around those words before asking carefully, “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Whatever your fleet’s next…expedition is, make it far away, and enough to keep you occupied for at least the next couple of months. It would be best if you weren’t around for a while.”
Beidou sighed, feeling like she was beginning to understand what was going on. “Let me see the contract, Ningguang.”
With an almost tangible reluctance, Ningguang finally peeled her hand away from the contract and allowed Beidou to begin reading.
Her eye widened at the very first line, but she didn’t look up or say anything until she’d read the whole thing through.
A brush and a filled inkwell sat at the edge of the table, and Beidou spared it but a glance before fixing her gaze back onto Ningguang.
“You’re not going to let me say no to this one, are you?”
“You are the only one I trust enough to carry it out.”
“Ningguang, I’m a fucking pirate—not a spy.”
“I reiterate my point.”
Beidou sighed and ran a hand over her face. Of all the things… “The Fatui are always hanging around. What makes you think they’re up to something now?”
“It’s only a hunch,” Ningguang admitted. “But apparently trouble has been brewing in Mondstadt. The Knights of Favonius apprehended some Fatui agents attempting to undermine the integrity of the city’s leadership in the middle of a crisis. I don’t think it’s a mere coincidence that one of their Harbingers has also been spotted visiting Northland Bank several times in the past month.”
“What, you think they’ve got their eyes on us next?” Beidou let out a bark of laughter. “Liyue is different from Mondstadt, Ningguang. We have the protection of Rex Lapis, always.”
“Liyue is different from Mondstadt due to the efforts of the Qixing,” Ningguang retorted, her voice taking on an unfamiliar hardness. “No matter how closely we feel the Archon’s presence, what point would there be in doing anything for ourselves if we could simply rely on him for everything?”
Beidou’s mouth fell open slightly. “Those words…don’t sound like your own.”
“…They’re not, but I could see the reason behind them when they were first spoken to me.” Ningguang closed her eyes, as if reminiscing on that moment. “What I do, Beidou, is protect Liyue, not sit around hoping Rex Lapis will solve every problem that comes the city’s way.”
Beidou leaned back in her chair. “Huh,” she said, and nothing more.
As the room grew quiet, Ningguang looked up at her, expectant. “What?”
“Oh, I’m just trying to parse something out: is it that you’re different from usual today, or am I just seeing the real you for the first time?”
Ningguang squinted at her, perplexed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, I’m just getting a little excited, that’s all.” Beidou grinned and, without further ado, picked up the brush and signed her name at the bottom of the contract in bold, broad strokes. “There. But like I said, I’m not a spy.”
“All I need is for you to find out which locales the agents have been frequenting and their movement patterns. You don’t need to gain any particular information directly from them—that, I’ll use my own people for.”
“Hm…sure, but don’t blame me if there are some confrontations. These guys can be pretty touchy about their personal space.”
“I don’t mind. With your reputation, nobody will blink twice at a scuffle here or there.”
Beidou snickered. “You make me sound like I’m some common ruffian. But fine, thy will be done, and all that.” Her smile faded. “If you’re right, and something big is about to happen in Liyue…why would you want me to leave?”
There was a moment of hesitation, and instantly Beidou could tell Ningguang was lying when she said, “Your absence from the city factors well into my plans, that’s all.”
“Then I’ll go,” Beidou relented, “but only on one condition.”
“Name it.”
Without warning, Beidou leaned over the table and grasped the back of Ningguang’s neck to pull her into a hard kiss, delighting silently in the way Ningguang stiffened in shock as their mouths knocked together and her tooth grazed Beidou’s lip, drawing blood. The pain, however fleeting, left a sharp impression in the back of her mind—something to remember the master of the Jade Chamber by over the next several months.
She pulled away, lips spreading into a wolfish grin at the sight of a deep pink hue blooming on Ningguang’s cheeks, and murmured:
“Don’t miss me too much.”
V.
On the night the Jade Chamber fell out of the sky, all Beidou could do was watch from her ship as the palace, the culmination of Ningguang’s life’s work, plunged towards the ocean below, where an enormous beastly entity flailed with enough power to level the entire city of Liyue.
The explosion was so grand that moments later, the waters beneath the Alcor several miles out began rocking with the force of the energy that continued rippling out from the impact point.
Beidou’s blood ran cold in her veins. “Forward,” she commanded, voice faint in her own ears despite the way it echoed in the air around her.
“Captain!” Juza protested, face twisted in an incredulous expression. “Those waves could capsize even the Alcor.”
“They won’t,” Beidou said, not looking away from the enormous plume of smoke that was rising out of the ocean ahead. “Forward, to Liyue.”
When no one moved, she drew her greatsword and plunged it into the floor in front of her, the wood splintering as its blade immediately sank several inches in. “ Forward! ”
With a growl, Juza mustered up the fiercest glare he could manage as he called out, “You heard her, dammit! To the harbor!”
The Alcor lurched forward as the sails dropped and the wind began carrying them eastward, to Liyue.
The waters at the harbor were so turbulent the Alcor could hardly make it to the port, let alone dock. The ships that were unfortunate enough to have already been there were being tossed about with such force that they collided with each other, sending showers of splintered wood and bent metal up into the air and the water below. Gray clouds had gathered over the city, formed by a combination of smoke and the powerful and deeply unsettling elemental energy that permeated the atmosphere.
The Alcor rocked violently as it grew close, and Beidou could tell there was no point in even trying to anchor—but that wasn’t stopping her.
She turned to Juza and shouted at him over the howling of the wind and the crashing of the waves: “Take her to Guyun.”
Then, before he could reply, she braced herself on the balls of her feet, activated her Vision, and launched herself off the deck with an Electro-charged leap towards the port.
She landed hard on one of the piers, knees buckling from the weight of the impact and stumbling forward to catch herself on her hands. Water splashed up around her and lapped at her thighs; the sea had risen to an almost alarming degree and was slowly swallowing the port. Beidou threw herself forward towards the stairs leading up to the city, paying the water no mind—she was already soaked from her journey on the Alcor anyway.
“Ningguang!” she called as soon as her feet hit the concrete pavement of Liyue City proper. “Ningguang!” She swept her gaze across the road in front of her, searching wildly for anything that struck her as familiar: white hair, a golden gown, those ridiculous nail caps—
Around her, a storm like nothing Liyue had ever seen was sweeping through the streets. Bamboo stalks and tree branches bent and groaned against fierce gales that carried enough salt in them to make a person cringe just from opening their mouth. The city square was enveloped in a frenzy of activity, with people scrambling every which way to either escape from the harbor or see what was going on.
“Has anyone seen the Tianquan?” Beidou called until her voice grew hoarse, desperate for someone to even look her way. “Hey! What the hell is going on? Ningguang! ”
A hard crack against her shoulder knocked her straight onto her backside, and the pain shooting through her tailbone made her snarl. Frustration and ire dyed her vision Electro purple as she clambered back to her feet, ready to wreak vengeful retribution on the fool who’d gotten in her way—
A soft, tiny touch on her arm made her look down, the gentleness of the contact startling her out of her near-frenzied state of mind.
A boy, probably no older than seven years and wearing a medley of tattered, second-hand clothing, grasped her wrist and stared up at her silently.
Beidou scowled and jerked her mora pouch off her belt. “Scram, kid. I’m busy.” She dropped the mora into the boy’s hand.
The boy closed his fist around the pouch and stuffed it into the pocket of his thread-worn pants, but kept the grip of his other hand fast around her wrist.
“That’s all I have, okay? I—” Beidou stopped and stared back down at the kid. “Wait…do you know where she is?”
Without a word, the boy turned and began leading Beidou into the narrow streets off the main road, where several residential areas sat nestled together. It was somewhat calmer here, and seemed as though most of the residents had either gone to the port or locked themselves in their homes.
After several minutes of walking down damp, windswept pathways, the boy brought Beidou to a neighborhood of rather mundane-looking apartment complexes. Latticed windows rattled against the swirling gusts and paint faded in patches off the yellowed walls of old but decent-looking buildings. She knew vaguely of this district, where most of the lower middle class denizens resided; there was nothing fancy here, but it was still better than anything she’d ever had growing up.
The boy stopped in front of one of the buildings and pointed up towards a window on the second floor.
“Is that where she is?” Beidou asked, but when she looked down the boy was already slinking away, pocket jingling heartily with her mora.
With a sigh, Beidou pushed aside the weather-worn sliding door and made her way up the stairs. On the second floor, a single door stood in the tiny hall, and she raised her hand to knock twice on the light, painted wood.
“It’s unlocked,” came a voice from inside, weary and faint against the howling of the wind outside. She couldn’t be sure of who it belonged to.
Softly, Beidou pushed open the door and stepped into what immediately became apparent was a single-room living space that was empty of all but a small square table in the center, at which sat a familiar figure smoking from a mahogany pipe.
“Shit,” Beidou whispered as she rushed into the room and practically fell at her knees in front of Ningguang, grasping her wrist and dropping her head in relief on her lap. “I thought you were fucking dead.”
“Clearly I’m not,” Ningguang replied with a quiet sigh. As the smell of finely blended tobacco and opium filled the air around her, Beidou dared to let herself think she almost sounded fond.
“What the hell happened? You know it’s chaos out there, right?” Beidou demanded, looking up. Ningguang’s hand was dry and warm in hers, but her hair was in disarray, with her usual ornate pin missing, and there was a visible slump in her shoulders.
“The worst of it has passed,” she said, blinking heavily as though struggling to keep her eyes open. “The city will settle down with some guidance from the other members of the Qixing. I’ve done my part.”
“The Jade Chamber…” Beidou murmured softly. She reached up and, as gently as she could, brushed some dirt away from Ningguang’s cheek.
While she didn’t have any major injuries, Ningguang was covered in scrapes and bruises, and there was a large tear at the bottom of her dress. She took another long puff from her pipe before placing it on the table next to where Beidou realized her Vision lay, its usual golden glow dulled from overuse. “A necessary sacrifice,” she said, smoke spilling from her lips. Beidou refrained from leaning up to breathe it in.
“Do you have a place to stay in the city?” she asked, then glanced around the small, musty room. “…Is this apartment yours?”
“The entire complex is. I’d planned to renovate it over the next few months.”
Beidou rubbed the back of her neck, skeptical. “Don’t you own any nicer apartment complexes?”
Ningguang swept her gaze around the room, eyes unexpectedly soft. “Before I built the Jade Chamber, I lived here for some time. It was the first place I thought to come to, that’s all.”
“Guess that’s all it really takes to call a place home, huh?” Beidou couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at her lips, but after a short moment it fell again. “Hey, you’re okay, right? You don’t have to tell me all about what happened, but at least tell me you’re all right.”
“I…I’ll be fine,” Ningguang said, and it sounded like the truth despite the slight waver in her voice. She closed her eyes for a moment. “I just need some time to gather myself.”
“Right, well…in that case, I’ve got a ship full of scared as hell crewmen to attend to.” Beidou rose to her feet, the weathered floorboards below creaking with the shift of her weight. As she turned towards the door, however, a soft tug on her shawl stopped her.
“Stay,” Ningguang said, her voice so quiet Beidou almost thought she was imagining it. “Just for a little longer.”
Beyond the thin walls of the apartment, the doleful baying of the winds began to die down, and taking its place swiftly afterwards was the soft, unmistakable pitter-patter of rainfall. It seemed the storm was not intent on ending any time soon.
Without another word, Beidou once again seated herself on the ground at Ningguang’s feet and laid her head on her lap. This time, as she closed her eye, the gentle touch of fingers carding through her hair accompanied the soft puffing of the mahogany pipe through the rest of the evening.
+I.
A quiet summer afternoon in Liyue:
The sun shone brightly overhead, its heat warming the concrete walkways of the city streets and its light gleaming through the thin petals of the glaze lilies in full bloom at the Yujing Terrace.
The harbor bustled with its usual flurry of activity, from dock workers hauling cargo between merchant ships to families and friends reuniting or saying goodbyes in front of large passenger ferries. The water below was bright and calm, and the air was rich with the scent of mora, the chatter of conversation, and the taste of salt.
And there, at the northernmost part of the pier, the Alcor was docked at the port of Liyue Harbor for the first time in many years.
“Man,” Beidou sighed as she tromped onboard with two large jugs of liquor dangling from her fingers by a rope looped through their handles. “This port gets smaller and smaller with every visit.”
“It’s getting more crowded, that’s all,” Ningguang said, stepping lightly off of the gangplank and following Beidou on-deck. “…And it seems the Alcor has been getting bigger, as well.”
“Aha, you noticed!” Beidou spread her arms, chest puffed out with pride. “The Alcor is always growing, whether it’s new ballistae, hull armor replacements, or taller, sturdier masts.”
“All of which are technically considered illegal vessel modifications,” Ningguang muttered under her breath, but her frown softened as Beidou grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.
“Let’s not fuss about the small things when we’ve known each other so long now, hm?” Beidou said with a light squeeze around Ningguang’s shoulders. She looked up and scanned the deck. “Now, I think our chef arrived earlier…”
“ Jiejie! ” As if summoned, Xiangling appeared from the other side of the deck, trotting over with a large sack full to bursting with cooking ingredients in her arms. “I brought the—ack! The Tianquan…!” She recoiled in shock, face blanching at the sight of Ningguang.
Beidou snickered. “Relax, would you? She’s the guest of honor at tonight’s feast.”
“B-but…”
Ningguang, of course, was all charm as she fixed Xiangling with an impeccable smile. “How’s the restaurant doing? I heard you had new clay ovens installed some time ago.”
“They were donated by an anonymous patron. What’s it to you?” Xiangling huffed, expression twisted into an almost comical degree of distrust.
“All right, all right. Why don’t you head over to the kitchen and get things started?” Beidou said, shooing her off below deck. She turned back to Ningguang and lifted the bottles of liquor with a grin. “I know a great place where we can break into these while we wait.”
“By all means, lead the way.”
Beidou stepped up to the main mast and grasped onto the net ladder that ran all the way up to the top, where a crow’s nest sat nearly two hundred feet in the air overlooking the entire ship—and beyond. “Ready for a workout?”
Ningguang’s expression turned flat. “I am not climbing that.”
Beidou threw her head back and cackled. “You don’t have to! Just hold on tight to me.” She tied her two jugs of liquor to her belt, pulled herself up against the net, and presented her back to Ningguang.
“This doesn’t make me any more inclined to participate,” Ningguang said.
“What, don’t trust me?” Beidou challenged without turning around. She gripped the rope in front of her, and waited.
A moment passed before Ningguang let out a quiet groan and wrapped her arms, warm and slender, tightly around Beidou’s shoulders. “If you drop me…ugh. Just don’t drop me.”
Beidou grinned at the sound of Ningguang’s nail caps clinking against each other as she laced her fingers together beneath her chin. She reached down, grabbed the backs of Ningguang’s thighs, and pulled her legs up to lock around her waist.
A tiny yelp escaped Ningguang as Beidou hefted her fully onto her back. “Beidou, if someone sees me like this…”
“Relax, no one on this ship cares about shit like that,” she replied before grasping the rope net again. “Whatever you do, don’t let go, all right? We’ll be there a lot faster than you think.”
“I won’t, just—ah!” Ningguang let out a startled cry as Beidou suddenly leapt several feet upward and caught herself on the net, grip tight and sure around the thick rope. “No, I can’t do—ah, Beidou, wait!”
Beidou jumped again, leaning forward and keeping herself as close to the net as possible to maintain her balance with the extra weight. The liquor jugs knocked against each other with a resounding clang , but the ceramic was thick. It would hold.
Her muscles, on the other hand, were already starting to burn slightly from the exertion, as she’d never actually carried someone up to the crow’s nest before, and her heart pounded with both anxiety and excitement.
“Beidou, I don’t think this is safe,” Ningguang gasped, panting softly against the back of Beidou’s neck. Perhaps involuntarily, she squeezed her legs more tightly against Beidou’s waist.
“You said you wouldn’t let go, remember?” was all Beidou said in reply.
After that, Ningguang went dead silent. Her grip around Beidou’s neck was near-strangling, chest flush against her back and face pressed to the back of her head. There was something about getting to sense this strange moment of vulnerability born of fear mixed in with trust that Beidou found intensely energizing.
“That’s the spirit,” she breathed, and braced herself for the next leap.
By the time she crawled her way into the crow’s nest, both of them were shaking and panting. Ningguang slid bonelessly off Beidou’s back and into an incredibly inelegant puddle onto the floor, her hair and gown splayed out on the dusty platform as her chest heaved with a sigh of relief.
Beidou collapsed onto her back next to her and for the next minute, neither of them said a word as they strove to regain their breath.
Finally, Beidou summoned up just enough energy for a wheezing chuckle. “Told you I’d get us up here in no time.”
“You…are incorrigible.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what you love about me in the first place, isn’t it?”
Ningguang turned away. The tips of her ears burned bright red. “Are you going to pour some wine out, or not?”
“Come on.” Beidou pushed herself back onto her feet, letting the cool breeze dry the sweat running down her forehead and arms. She held a hand out towards Ningguang, who accepted, and together they came to lean against the railing of the crow’s nest, looking out into the sea.
The evening light burned red against the water as the sun began to set, and the ship rocked gently below their feet. They took in the silence that had settled between them, each lost briefly in their own thoughts. Beidou took this chance to uncork a jug of liquor and fill the two small cups she’d brought along with them.
“I’ve never seen you use a cup,” NIngguang remarked as she took the one Beidou offered to her.
“Oh, I always use one when I’m drinking with someone else.” She raised her cup, then, and smiled at the satisfactory clink of Ningguang bumping hers into it for a toast.
A moment of quiet as they both threw back the contents of their cups in one go, neither of them flinching at the smooth burn of the liquor going down.
“You know,” Beidou began, filling the cups again, “no matter how long I spend out there, no matter where I sail and what I see…it still feels as endless and mysterious as the day I first stepped into a fishing boat.”
Ningguang didn’t reply, her gaze already drawn back to the water. The sea tended to have that effect on people—it pulled you in, and didn’t let go until you found the strength in yourself to look away.
“It’s probably not all that impressive to you, huh? You’ve been living in the sky, when even the adepti themselves found their homes in the mountains.”
“On the contrary,” Ningguang murmured. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
“You like it? Maybe you can build the next Jade Chamber high up enough that you’ll be able to see the ends of the ocean itself.”
Ningguang stared into her cup, contemplating. “I’m unsure whether there will be a new one, at least in the near future. There is still too much to do for the city.”
Beidou’s face fell at that. “So it’s right back to the old grind for you after this, huh? Is this the part where I thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to spend with little old me?”
“I think I should be the one thanking you.” Ningguang placed her cup down on the railing and folded her hands together, her cheeks dusted pink. “I didn’t realize how much I needed a friend until you…appointed yourself in the position.”
Beidou dropped her head too, staring down at the deck. It was emptier than usual. With the ship docked, most of the crew were either below in the kitchens helping Xiangling or visiting the city. The distinct feeling of being alone together reminded her of long evenings spent in the Jade Chamber, sitting at the edge of the floating island the palace was built on, legs dangling in the air as they gazed down at a city so far below one could hardly even make out the people strolling through the streets.
She let out a small scoff. “Friend, huh?”
A smile pulled at Ningguang’s lips, her eyes crinkling with mirth. “Among other things.”
Heat rushed to Beidou’s face as she realized Ningguang had been teasing her, but before she could muster an indignant retort, NIngguang leaned over and sealed their lips together in a soft, slow kiss that left Beidou reeling for a few seconds even after Ningguang had pulled away.
“Uh,” Beidou said cleverly, tasting silk blossom and jasmine oil lip balm.
“I have something for you,” Ningguang said, her voice tender in a way that made Beidou’s heart stutter. She pressed her hands together briefly, then pulled them apart. Her Vision glowed as it activated, and there was a flash of Geo-charged energy before what seemed to be a small insignia made of amber-colored ore appeared in the palm of her hand.
Beidou recognized the symbol instantly as that of the Crux Fleet, the details perfectly rendered in the curve of a ship’s silhouette to the precise angles of the greatsword cutting through the center.
Ningguang reached behind the insignia to undo a latch, revealing it to be a brooch that she then pinned carefully on Beidou’s shirt, just above her heart.
“So that you will always have me with you at sea, even if I can’t be by your side.”
As Ningguang pulled her hands away, Beidou caught them in hers and held them again to her chest. She smiled, bittersweet. “We could set sail now and never look back.”
Ningguang chuckled, eyes fond. “And go where? Liyue is your home, too, and the Crux’s. Besides…” Her hands still held tightly in Beidou’s, she led her towards the other side of the crow’s nest, overlooking Liyue Harbor. The sky was darkening, and in response the city began blooming with activity as one by one, the denizens lit their lamps, setting the streets and the establishments lining them aglow.
She leaned in against Beidou as they watched, cheeks pressed together and hands warm in each other’s grasps.
“This is more than enough.”