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Evening mist descends on Liyue Harbor as Ningguang’s steps echo through the narrow alleyway. The fire of a few lamps flicker from high above her head, allowing for her shadow to dance across the ground. Her grasp around the documents in her hand tightens as the heavy iron door enters her vision, each side guarded by millelith – spear in hand, head held high.
They straighten their back, greet her with a curt nod, but nothing can betray the bewilderment in their eyes seemingly wondering why the Tianquan would visit Liyue’s prison at a time so late. It is none of their concern, however. None which Ningguang will answer. Instead, she gestures at the door – a silent order which they follow without question.
The door opens with a groan, allowing a moldy smell to escape. It’s not an unfamiliar smell, though one which she hasn’t had to smell in a long while. The millelith hand her a lamp which she takes before she enters the prison, each step firm but quiet; ears still trained to listen for whispered conversations telling her information which is hard to gather elsewhere. It’s not the primary reason for her visit. It’s more a habit, a reflex, than anything. Because knowledge and wisdom are so easy to transfer into Mora. She’ll gladly take any opportunity which presents itself.
She casts her eyes from one side to the other, catching glimpses of people lying on sordid pallets, barely better from lying on the floor. Some eyes stare back at her, a sneer to her back; resentment at everything she represents – influence and wealth. Power. So far-reaching they could never dream of.
A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. At the irony of how their roots are the same and how different they are now. She comes to a halt in front of a cell, gaze falling on that woman who like her molded gold out of nothing, who like her tries to conquer the world.
But she failed where Ningguang succeeded.
Raven hair spills over Beidou’s face, shimmering like noctilucous jade in the dim moonlight filtered by swirling dust. Her sleeping face looks peaceful, so tranquil as if she wasn’t sleeping in a prison but on the Crux among comrades and friends. She’s so blithe no matter how inappropriate. So happy where she has no reason to.
Ningguang raises her hand. The warm glow of her vision disturbs the darkness, and a small piece of stone appears in her palm. She flicks her wrist and-
“Ow!” Beidou covers her forehead, clicks her tongue at the sudden impact while Ningguang smiles at the captain who is finally awake. She steps closer to the cell. The light of her lamp falls onto Beidou’s face, uncovering the dirt on her cheeks, the grime on her clothes. Her eyes glare up at her but ceases once she seems to recognize who stands before her. She jumps to her feet, treads closer to the bars. Hand against her hip, a broad smile on her face. For someone who is jailed, Beidou looks awfully confident and mischievous. Curious, Ningguang finds. The fine she brought upon herself this time is nothing she could hope to stem. Her Crux won’t help her. She has to know that her only option is to forfeit her freedom, to work until the sentence is served.
“This was foolish.” Ningguang gestures at her, at the cell she’s dwelling in. “Even for you.”
Beidou doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she tilts her head, gazes at her through heavy lashes. She’s assessing her. It’s easy for Ningguang to tell. Countless has been the times they talked, discussed, argued over the rules and laws – how to obey and how to circumvent. One warning wasn’t enough for her; a second and a third weren’t either.
“You couldn’t handle this case,” Ningguang says. “They aren’t your match.”
“It was fun enough.” Beidou steps closer to the bars. The smile on her face never leaves her. The rise of her brow, a memory of that night when the mansion burnt to the ground. Ningguang still remembers how the plumes of smoke rose to the sky, still feels the scratch of particles in her throat. She was in a meeting with the rest of the Qixing when Baiwen broke the news to them. They ran outside to see what was happening, saw spectators watching the Zhao Mansion going up in flames, so stunned at unfathomable amounts of fortune turning into ash.
But the Zhaos are out of Beidou’s liege. Their legacy reaches centuries back while Beidou’s has just begun. She has built her reputation within a lifetime. She is brave, yes. But bravery can only bring her so far. What she fails to understand is that power comes at the cost of integrity. Power comes at the cost of innocence.
Fun is not what she’ll find.
Ningguang places the lamp on the ground. The shadows flitting over their faces grow longer.
It’s hard to understand. How one can be so simple-minded. Beidou is so easy to deal with, so easy to handle but then she turns around and does this. Rips away the fortune of one of the most influential merchants of Liyue for everyone to see.
She couldn’t expect to get away with this.
“Why did you do this?”
“Because they deserved it.” She leans away from the bars, reaches her arms up to stretch. Her lack of self-awareness is astounding. “They steal from those who have nothing. I simply took what wasn’t theirs.”
“This might sound noble to your own ears.” Taking from the rich and distributing to the poor. It’s noble but naïve. “But you failed.”
Beidou raises her brow; an “oh” escapes her lips. “Did they get their money back?”
As if it was so easy. “You ruined them. You ruined one of many.” Ningguang casts her gaze down. “Even if you distribute your loot. A flower won’t bloom from being watered once.” Poverty can’t be eradicated in such a way. Her grip around the sheets of papers in her hand tighten, the crumpling of the paper almost louder than her voice. No warm meal a merchant bought her in a fit of self-gratification brought her out of poverty. No coin of mora a well-dressed salesperson threw at her saved her from the cold.
It is hard work, tireless work, which helped her to reach so far. It was ruthlessness which brought her to where she is now. She couldn’t afford to stay so naïve – to stay so pure the way Beidou is still at heart.
Where Beidou easily chooses the fight under the scrutiny of all, Ningguang has long decided which battles she will fight. Trade and commerce require an iron heart if one wishes to triumph.
It’s almost ironic how Beidou is the one in jail when Ningguang is the Tianquan.
She huffs out a laugh at these thoughts, covers her mouth with the tips of her fingers. Beidou shifts in her cell, visibly puzzled at the sudden burst of joy when nothing particularly humorous was shared. Instead of a remark, she walks back to the pallet on which she was lying minutes ago. She crouches down, darts out her hand to roam through the filth on the ground. It’s such an odd sight to see the glorious captain scavenge through dirt, but it shows Ningguang once again how similar they really are. How easily this could be her. If she didn’t seize the opportunities which presented themselves, there would be no jade palace she could call home. She brushes a strand of hair out of her face, twirls it around her finger before she looks back at Beidou who has returned.
Her hand holds a little scroll. Rolled so small and tight it must have managed to slip the attention of the guards who made sure to take her vision. She passes it past the bars and Ningguang takes it. It has to be intel on the Zhaos – the reason why Beidou still dares to be so confident in her precarious situation. Ningguang unfolds the roll, little by little taking in information. Though, it’s information she already knows. A case of fraud her informants shared with her long before Beidou even thought about burning the Zhao Mansion. She casts the captain a glance, unable to feel anything but disappointment at this meager attempt on saving herself. “Is this it?” she asks.
“What do you think?” Beidou steps closer to the bars. Yet again that confident smile on her lips.
Ningguang can’t help but shake her head. “I already knew about the salt fraud.” A massive cover up but nothing she would miss. “This one incident is not enough to strip them from power.”
“Just one incident?” Beidou doesn’t seem convinced. “This was huge. It affected more than half of Liyue’s population.”
“Even if it did.” Ningguang shifts in her stance, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “This is nothing the rich will care about.” A bitter taste covers her tongue. “Nobody who has Mora is free of any crime.”
“I agree.”
Ningguang’s gaze darts up to her. To the captain who still carries her body so casually as if she was about to sail out to the open sea in just the next hour. Bemusement plays with her features. Ningguang presses her lips together, pulling them into a thin line. Is it her this time who cannot find the humor in the situation?
“We came from nothing. I stole and I took.” Their gazes connect. “So did you, so did the Zhaos. The question is–“–her step drags over the concrete; her fingers curl around the bars–“–how much did we take?”
This is the difference.
Beidou took, indeed, but she gave where her heart told her to share. To help those in need or when she deemed a person suitable of her support. The art of gifting is hard to learn when holding onto nothing was what kept one alive. If there is no benefit of sharing, Ningguang rarely extends her sympathies. How else could she amass the wealth she can call her own now?
But nothing happens without consequence. Nothing happens without giving in return. Ningguang didn’t give away her fortune. None of it ever if not to earn even more. But what she did give away is this carelessness which Beidou displays in front of her. This freedom and ease as she converses with Ningguang in the dimly lit prison in which she awaits her punishment.
She was unlucky one might say. Unfortunate that someone so beloved by the citizens fell into the traps of people who have nothing but intrigue on their mind. It’s not where she belongs.
Ningguang holds up the documents she still holds. “They took far more than you could imagine. More than you can comprehend.” Mines of ore fell into their hands through deception; enemies lost their trade through their manipulation. They took so much they can never hope to give back. She searches Beidou’s face. Finds curiosity rather than surprise. As if she knows the outcome of this night and is only waiting for it to be spelled out.
“You’re free,” Ningguang says.
Beidou’s expression doesn’t change. She knew. She must have known the moment she set the fire.
It’s enough for the night. Ningguang bows down to take her lamp, turns around to leave. The millelith will release her before day comes. “I await you tomorrow at the jade-”
“Ningguang.” She halts, not bothering to turn around. “You were always part of the plan.”
Of course.
Because in the end they are the same. Two sides of a coin; one facing the light, the other facing the shadows.
Ningguang smiles as she leaves.