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It was another beautiful day in Liyue Harbor and Keqing dressed lightly, casually, for the occasion. Glittering Street, as the locals around Chihu Rock had coined it, was as lively as ever. Which was a relief; after Rex Lapis’ passing, the economy took a bad turn when the merchants and commonfolk alike became hesitant on spending mora when the Golden House was no longer minting new currency.
The Tianquan was left to deal with the issue and its impact on the international markets. Even now, a year after His passing, Ningguang was still yet to come up with a long-term solution. It would come in time, the rest of the Qixing reasoned, as it was a monumental task that required the continued input and review from the leaders of other nations. But in the meantime, mora was still abundant enough that people were reassured to go back out to spend it again.
But honestly. If Rex Lapis had the energy to tell the Qixing and the adepti about faking His death in their dreams—surely, He had the energy to pass on the knowledge of mora production before doing that dramatic bellyflop during the Rite of Descension!
Keqing may have learned to appreciate what God of Geo and Commerce had done for their nation, but there must had been another way to announce to the world that Rex Lapis was stepping down from His role as the Archon of Liyue?
This was why one cannot wholly trust the ways of gods and the divine; there was no understanding what goes through their heads.
Keqing passed through the crowded stone pathway, taking in the delightful smells of the food stalls and listening to the store vendors advertise for their wares. She stopped by the mora meat stall, relishing in the subtle tang of spices and delicately tender braised pork. She continued with silent graceful steps. Like a phantom, she was there, then not—weaving seamlessly through the throngs of people, to her destination.
One must take care of not making one’s presence known, after all.
She glanced around at her sides and behind, to make sure no one was looking, Keqing outstretched her hand forward at the item that she came back to claim.
A small wooden Rex Lapis figurine, curled over the top of a miniature Golden House.
But wait! What made this one so different from the rest of her collection—she had told Ganyu when they were out shopping together—was its accuracy to detail. The miniature model of the Golden House was impressive in its own right as in individual work, but it was clear that the main centerpiece was Rex Lapis descending to rest upon it. Why, take a look at its scales! Intricately carved in with immaculate precision, down its entire length, including in between the crevices where the body winded into itself. The mane flowed weightlessly behind its face, an expression of strength and regality. And see that little piece of gold that it held in its tiny claws?—a tiny replica of a piece of mora as an accessory!
Ganyu shifted her Exuvia plush to carry with one arm to pluck the figurine out of Keqing’s fingers for inspection. She looked at her, amusement dancing all over her features. “This looks about the same as the one you bought a month ago, no?”
A scandalized gasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keqing huffed, ignoring the rush of warmth spilling over her cheeks. “It’s about the subtleties, Ganyu! This one is very much unlike the ones you’ve already seen. Better even, I’d say!”
Ganyu did however, manage to talk her out of buying it and it was a regret that nagged insistently at her ever since. Always the stubborn one, Keqing waited patiently until her next day off to snatch it back up. As luck would have it, it was still in stock.
Her prize was nearly in her grasp. All that was left was to bag it up, take it back home, and carefully integrate it into the rest of her collection such that Ganyu wouldn’t notice it there.
“Lady Keqing?”
Keqing startled and retracted her hand like it was on fire. She turned around to the sound of the voice to hastily clap her hands over their mouth. “Don’t say my name so loudly!—ah.” She hushed harshly then blinked. She knew this voice.
The gentleman from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
Zhongli gently pried her hands away from his face. “My apologies for startling you, my Lady.”
“No, I…” Keqing started, only to stare into the thin yellow embroidered eyes of the large Exuvia plush toy that was tucked under his arm. It was the exact same one that both she and Ganyu purchased the last time they went shopping together. Oddly enough, the plush looked both uncannily alike and yet distinctly out of place on him. Maybe because they shared the same color palette?
Then realizing Zhongli was still waiting for an answer, she cleared her throat, hoping to appear casual. “Mister Zhongli. May I help you?”
He shook his head. “I was merely browsing the stalls and happened to see you.” His amber eyes gleaned at the variety of Rex Lapis merchandise. It was then that Keqing noticed the large paper bag in his other hand, filled with an assortment of Rex Lapis-related trinkets. Noticing her curious gaze, he answered, “Human creativity is such a marvelous thing, don’t you think? Despite Rex Lapis making annual appearances—before His passing, of course—His depictions in the arts and in song have such a range of imagination.”
Keqing tensed. Just her luck to run into a Rex Lapis aficionado during her one day off.
“It’s simply something I’ve noticed over the long years.” He laughed, more to himself rather than to her. “Lady Keqing, are you also interested in—"
Cheeks flaring, Keqing crossed her arms across her chest in indignance. “O-of course not! I was only passing by.”
“Oh, take a look at this,” Zhongli said, already distracted and blissfully unaware. He reached forward and Keqing had to stifle a strained sound of dismay when he picked up the same wooden Exuvia figure that she was going to purchase. “This one is quite nice, crafted with birch wood; the grains of birch are very beautiful. Can you see how each scale has a unique patterning under the umber paint—the craftsman used a process called woodburning to achieve that appearance. And see that tiny little piece that it holds?”
“A tiny mora replica,” Keqing finished, trying to suppress a growing grin. “Fitting, since the Exuvia dwelled in the Golden House. Hand painted, made with the grounds of cor lapis to achieve those golden hues. I suspect there’s a touch of noctilucous jade shavings mixed in there as well, judging by the way the paint sparkles in the light with that hint of green, no doubt to mimic the appearance of oxidation. Though, whether or not real mora actually does oxidize or if it’s the trick of the light is still up for debate.”
“A correct deduction. Your knowledge is impressive. As expected from the Yuheng.” Zhongli said. “Most others don’t realize the value and the labor behind such artisanal goods. An item like this one is a testament to its craftsman's attention to detail and skill.”
“Same to you. I’ve heard that you were well-versed, but I am pleasantly surprised to see that you have a fine eye for quality as well.”
“Indeed.” Zhongli waved to the elderly shopkeeper. To Keqing’s surprise, Zhongli pulled out his wallet from his pocket. Even more surprising was that he actually had mora inside to pay the shopkeeper. So, he’s finally learned to carry it around with him! Amazing! Even Zhongli seemed to be quite proud of the fact from the way he puffed his chest out slightly. “Madam, I would like to purchase this item.”
Keqing whipped her head in alarm.
“That’s...!”
“Is something wrong, my Lady?”
“No, I-I just...” She turned her head back to the various Rex Lapis toys and figurines on the counter, doing her best to disguise her disappointment. “I… didn’t take you to be an enthusiast.”
She flinched the moment the words left her mouth. She glanced at his bag of already purchased merchandise.
“Oh, no. It isn’t for me.”
“It’s not?”
“It’s for…” He mulled over his words carefully as the shopkeeper handed his item back in a small, padded paper bag. “An acquaintance of mine that I’ve known for a short while. A guest from Snezhnaya. I’ve received word that he plans on visiting Liyue within the coming weeks. This is for his younger siblings. They’ve gotten interested in Rex Lapis, as his most recent letters say.” He motioned to the plush and bag in his hands.
Keqing opened her mouth. Closed it. Then sighed. Well, if it was for the kids, then who was she to protest? But to have something of such high quality to be given to kids stung more than she liked to admit. “I’m sure that they’ll enjoy it.”
When they were further away from the stall, Zhongli asked, “What brings you down to the marketplace?”
“Just some browsing,” Keqing sighed again. “There was something I was hoping to get my hands on but alas. It has already found a new home.”
“How unfortunate.”
“Another one will come my way eventually, I suppose. Besides that, I am looking for a tailor.”
“What a coincidence. So am I.” Zhongli smiled placidly. “Do you have one already in mind?”
“I do, in fact.” Keqing let out one final sigh before squaring her shoulders. Next time. There’s always next time. “Come. Follow me.”
They walked together at a casual pace. Keqing took note of how his long strides seemed a bit stalled, like he was deliberately slowing down his gait to match hers. Furrowing her brows, she hastened her steps. Zhongli chuckled quietly as he moved to catch up when Keqing effortlessly started to pull away while weaving between the crowd.
“Here,” Keqing said when they arrived at the tailoring shop further down Chihu Rock. “Will this place be adequate?”
Zhongli glowed at the wide selection of silk fabrics and samite and cotton and wool when they entered the shop. He placed his items down on the empty space by the register to free up his hands as he started walking around the store. “Yes, this will do most splendidly. A fine variety,” he remarked, feeling the texture of a turquoise-dyed wool blend, “and of excellent quality.”
“How funny that we were out today looking for the same thing,” Keqing mused. Her fingers glided against a captivating deep indanthrene blue silk that shimmered slightly in the right light—that one would do perfectly for what she wanted. Next to it, a beautiful moonlight violet of linen and silk. She turned it over in her hand, soft and smooth and lightweight. Such a lovely color too; she would have to take a better look at that one the next she visited.
Zhongli perused through the fabrics on display closer to the register, his hand pausing on a silvery-cream silk cashmere blend.
“I actually took you for a person of neutral colors,” Keqing commented, mentally taking note of the fabric. Imported Fontaine cashmere was quite a luxury. She wasn’t much for it herself, but she was certain that Ningguang owned a piece or two. Keqing pointed to a sleek black waistcoat displayed on a mannequin by the storefront. “That one right there would go nice together as a three-piece.”
“Ah, this one is also not for me.”
“Let me guess, for your esteemed Snezhnayan guest?”
He scratched his cheek, turning away with an almost sheepish expression on his face. “Yes. I am searching for something that suits his tastes.”
Then Keqing paused. “You do realize that this shop is for made-to-order products, right?” she asked, suddenly concerned. Tailor-made products were sure to cost a pretty mora. If he were to choose that particular fabric, it was already looking to come with a hefty price tag. The funeral parlor certainly could not pay him that well. And she had heard all the rumors about his spending habits from disgruntled vendors plenty of times before… “I can take you to another location if the price is an issue.”
Surprisingly, he shook his head. “It should be fine. My guest arranged for me to have access to some of his funds before he left. Actually, it was his idea that I prepare new formalwear for him to celebrate his arrival.”
Keqing blinked owlishly. “You mean you have access to his banking information?”
“He has a habit of being the one to pay when we were out together,” he replied, as if it answered everything but it really did not.
“So…” she tried again, “it’s a shared bank account?
“Not shared,” Zhongli corrected. “I merely have access to it. He insists that I’m free to use it whenever I like as he sends deposits in regularly.”
“So then, these gifts for his siblings...?”
“Paid by myself. But the stuffed toy was recommended at his special request, therefore I paid—with his mora, if I may clarify—for that one.”
“I-Is that right?”
Zhongli’s brows knitted in confusion. “Is something the matter?”
“No, it just… sounds complicated.”
“Really? I think it’s quite simple.”
“Right,” Keqing said, unconvinced. “Anyway, you’re here to shop and you have the funds that you need. That’s what matters. Don’t worry, I’m not one to pry.”
“Thank you.” Zhongli said, his smile pleasant. “And I don’t mind sharing. We’ve only known each other for a short while but he helped with an important venture I recently took. I haven't gotten the chance to give my proper thanks now that I see that it bore fruit. I owe him quite a great deal, as well as an apology.”
How curious. And honestly, very suspicious.
It was one thing for them to keep in contact despite the distance from Liyue to Snezhnaya. But Zhongli had known this strange man for only a short period of time and was given access to his banking information? Then to be allowed permission to spend it as he pleased? He was also sending his family gifts and toys as if they were his family as well. That hardly sounded like something mere acquaintances would do.
What exactly was their relationship?
Keqing looked at Zhongli, trying not to let her incredulity show on her face, as he happily browsed around the store, inspecting different samples of dyed samite and linen as he went.
Well, as long as Zhongli seemed fine and content with whatever they had going on, who was Keqing to judge? All she could hope was that he wasn’t falling into some sort of nasty scam by this Snezhnayan man.
Then, her mind went back to when they were still at the toy seller’s booth and how Zhongli remembered to bring his wallet. The same man who had garnered infamy around the marketplace for never bringing his mora and racking up huge tabs.
If there was someone in his life that could help with that atrocious habit of his…
Perhaps, this strange relationship might do him some good after all.
The tailor, who allowed the two time to themselves, stepped forward. “Is there anything that I can help you with today?”
Keqing went first. Always prepared, she produced a slip of paper from her pocket. “Yes, I’d like to place an order according to this, please.”
It was a somewhat crude picture—despite having a fond appreciation for the arts and crafts, it was a subject that Keqing herself didn’t devote much time into perfecting—but she made sure the gist of it came across clearly with succinct, annotated instructions.
Zhongli peeked over her shoulder and nodded in approval. “A wonderful design. I can tell that you have put much thought into it.”
Keqing awkwardly coughed into a fist. “Well, perhaps.”
“I’m sure that she’ll like it.”
“Yeah, I hope I’m not being too untoward but I—” Keqing paused for a moment before her face ignited. “W-what?”
Zhongli appeared unfazed. “It’s for the secretary of the Qixing, is it not?”
“I-It is, but!” Keqing stammered. “How did you know?”
“You mentioned how funny it was that the two of us were out looking for the same thing, so I deduced it was in search of a gift to be tailored. Considering you already had an idea in mind, including your own design with specific instructions, it must be for a person that you were very close to and familiar enough to be confident of their tastes. And the color,” Zhongli smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling, delicate and fond, with a startling resemblance of a proud father would have for their child, “suits Ganyu the best, doesn’t it?”
Keqing was momentarily taken aback, bewildered by the image. “Y-yes. I thought the same.”
But that couldn’t be right. He appeared hardly much older than herself, only by a couple of years at most. He never alluded to even a mention of a spouse or child either.
Appearances can be deceptive, a niggling thought echoed from the back of Keqing’s mind. Ganyu was one such example, and that boy-adeptus Xiao was another. On the flip side, Keqing had recently met a new, fledgling Millelith guard the other day who was a tad younger than she was, but already married and with their firstborn on the way.
Oh?
Wait.
How did Zhongli know Ganyu?
Zhongli raised his hand, catching the tailor’s attention and derailing Keqing’s train of thought, to point at the silvery off-white blend from earlier. “I would like to purchase this fabric for a custom undertaking for myself. But may I return later today to provide details about how to proceed with it?”
The tailor nodded. “Of course. I can arrange for an appointment.”
“Thank you. Zhongli turned to Keqing and whispered in her ear. “I suddenly felt the need to be more thoughtful in my selection after seeing how thorough the lengths that you have gone to with your order. I feel almost embarrassed coming in with such a lack of preparation on my part.”
Keqing smirked with a small sense of victory. “Think you can do better then?”
Amusement danced on his features. “One can try.”
And just to test the waters, Keqing ventured. “You really must care for this guest of yours quite a bit.”
This time, Zhongli allowed himself to be a little more honest. “Yes. I do.”
Ah. So that was what it was.
“Ma’am.” The tailor pushed forward her bill. Keqing glanced at it, penned her signature in one smooth flourish, and handed the man the mora from her purse.
The tailor did the same for Zhongli. “The bill, including the cost for the consultation.”
Zhongli retrieved his wallet, opened it, and for a good, long moment, stared into it blankly.
“You okay?” Keqing prodded his side with her elbow.
“Oh,” he said at last, looking rather embarrassed. “It would appear that I have run out of mora.”
When he turned to her with expectant, pleading eyes, Keqing bit back a groan. She reached into her purse again.
“I’ll pay for it.”
The next time Keqing met Zhongli again was on the same day she went to pick up her order.
His face, scrunched in deep contemplation, brightened when Keqing joined him near the register. Upon seeing the pair at the counter, the tailor gestured towards the back of the shop and excused himself to retrieve their orders.
“Ah, Lady Keqing. Good morning,” Zhongli greeted.
“Good morning,” she answered back courteously. “I can imagine what you’re here for today.”
“It’s as you can imagine,” he said. “Are you here on break?”
“Early lunch. I’d like to hand this over to Ganyu before the evening.” At Zhongli’s questioning gaze, she continued. “I promised her dinner. I was gone from the Harbor for a period of time, and it was Ganyu who took up more work to cover my bases in my absence. She said it was enough that I spent time with her after, but I still feel like I haven’t expressed how grateful I am in full yet. So.”
“I see,” Zhongli said with an emphatic nod. “I suppose that also means you are seeing her tonight? I was meaning to invite you over for tea—I’ve yet to return the favor from before. But I didn’t think I’d be meeting you here, so I didn’t bring the amount with me.”
“Don’t worry, I plan to hold you accountable for it. However, you’re actually in luck; I managed to free up my schedule to leave work on time today. I can swing by later in the afternoon.”
“But what of your meeting with Ganyu?”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve arranged for it to be much later in the evening. She’s still swamped with work, as always.” When Zhongli frowned, Keqing asked, “Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” he said simply. “Does she…?”
“Yes?”
Zhongli appeared pensive. “Does she enjoy her work?”
“I can tell you with absolute certainty that she does. Maybe even a little too much, considering how much overtime she tends to pick up. One of these days, I’ll have her understand the value of a work-life balance.” Keqing said. “Why do you ask?”
He shook his head. “I was merely curious. Ganyu always seems so engrossed by her work that I began to wonder if she allowed herself to rest from time to time.”
“She’s gotten better with that,” Keqing explained with a sigh. Then her smile grew fond. “Or rather, we both have. It is because we started keeping each other accountable that she and I can rest a little easier now, and even more so, together.”
“I see.” Zhongli said simply, relief washing over his features. Keqing frowned. “I am glad to hear that.”
Keqing hesitated, unsure on whether she should question him further.
What does he care to gain about learning her relationship with Ganyu? Or rather, what exactly was his relationship with her?
She didn’t have a chance to decide however, when the tailor returned to the register with two boxes of the same shape. He laid out Keqing’s order first. She hummed, inspecting it closely for loose threads and misaligned seams. She was worried that the golden embroidery that ran the length of the front of the dress might be too much—Ganyu preferred simpler designs after all. Keqing took care to emphasize that the detailing was to be subtle yet still recognizable, and the tailor had done a marvelous job at balancing the two.
After a few minutes, she replied with a satisfied grin, “It’s perfect.”
The tailor nodded then turned to Zhongli. “For you, sir.”
Zhongli unfolded the thick bundle of cloth across the table. It truly was something extravagant, Keqing mused.
The cut was crisp and judging from the silhouette, it was meant for someone with a build similar to Zhongli’s, maybe only slightly bigger. Under the single-breasted jacket, which upon unbuttoning, was a waistcoat of the same silvery off-white color. Along the side of jacket was dragon-scale patterning, reminiscent of Zhongli’s own tailcoat, was a darker shade of silver. The dress shirt however was a stark burgundy to break up the monotony of the otherwise light colors used for the jacket, the waistcoat, and the trousers. And the tie, in a timeless classic black, to round it off.
“It’s wonderful,” Keqing remarked. “I'm sure whomever receives it will be overjoyed.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Zhongli said and looked to the tailor again, who then exchanged a nod and retrieved an additional package wrapped in opaque parchment paper from below the counter. Zhongli stacked the package atop of his box then turned to her. “Lady Keqing, if it does not trouble you, are you available to pay a visit to the funeral parlor later today?”
“I can make time,” Keqing replied. Better have him pay up while it was still convenient for the both of them.
So she did, arriving at the entrance of the Parlor much later than expected when a new pile of papers appeared at her desk that required her immediate attention before she left the office at the end of the day.
A familiar, distant, influx of impatience started to well up from within her and Keqing quickly squashed the feeling back down. A natural reaction, one that she had long since become accustomed to. It served as a handy internal clock to remind her of her deadlines and appointments.
As long as she didn’t linger for too long, she was still good on time. It would be inexcusable of her to be the one who extended the invitation to Ganyu, only to be late on arrival. If she could, she’d prefer to reschedule Zhongli in for another day. But Keqing was a woman of her word and intended to keep it that way in regard to both parties. Not to mention there was no way of knowing when she could spare the time for either to try again later.
Like a mantra, she repeated to herself: Say hi, mora, leave, get changed, Ganyu.
(If she had that written down on a piece of paper, Ganyu’s name would be highlighted yellow and circled with a bright red pen to emphasize its importance.)
She knocked twice. One. Two. The bell above the entrance jingled loudly and a gust of incense flooded her nose at the swing of the door. Zhongli greeted her. “Lady Yuheng. Please, come inside.”
He led her further into the building and into a more private room, presumably where he and Director Hu Tao spent their breaks when they were not busy with a client. Keqing took to a velvet crimson cushion at the low tea table while Zhongli busied himself at the counter.
“Do you prefer your beverages hot or iced?
“Depends on my options.”
“A refreshing blend of iced qingxin and mint tea, steeped slowly with several leaves of sweet flowers for fragrance and added sweetness. The other—chrysanthemum tea brewed with locally grown oolong tea, infused with wild berries and served with a small serving of imported Mondstadt honey on the side to adjust the taste to your liking.”
“I didn’t think you’d be the type to have a sweet tooth,” Keqing half-jested.
A delicate smile curved at his lips, warm and a tad somber. “Sometimes, our clients need something a little bit sweet.”
“Ah, of course.” Keqing nodded softly, understanding. “The qingxin tea, please.”
“As you wish.”
“Thank you.” Keqing sipped at her glass with a pleased hum. “Is the Director out?”
Zhongli sat across from her, nursing his own polished ceramic cup of hot tea. “She’s running errands. She’ll be back momentarily.”
“So,” Keqing set her glass down on a coaster to the side, lacing her hands together on the table. “Let’s get down to business. You didn’t invite me over just to pay me back and make small chat, did you?”
Zhongli brought his cup to his mouth. “Mhm, delicious. How astute of you. But yes, to answer your question—I admit that I approached you with another motive in mind. The first,” he slid a leather satchel the size of a large, ripened juili chili towards her. “Your mora. You may deposit this at any time.”
Keqing pocketed it. “I will in the morning, as soon as the bank opens.”
“And the second,” Zhongli turned to reach at something from behind. A box in a decorative gold-leaf and matte bronze wrapping paper. Keqing wondered if all that he owned were only in those colors. “A gift.”
She scrutinized it. “I don’t believe I’ve done anything to warrant a gift from you.”
“You’ve done more than you can imagine, and not just for me,” Zhongli replied solemnly, his eyes of liquid gold seemed to glow. Keqing could see genuine gratitude behind them and for the life of her, couldn’t decipher as to why. Beyond that, his expression betrayed no other emotion, unreadable and somehow strangely inhuman. “I hope that Ganyu doesn’t mind me overstepping, but I felt compelled to express my gratitude.”
There was that again.
Keqing laced her fingers, eyes piercing. “I’ve been wondering for a while now—you speak as if you’re close with Ganyu. How do you two know each other?”
Another sip of tea. “We’ve known each other for a long time now.”
“Really? Doubt was clearly evident in her voice. Ganyu didn’t seem close to him at all, much less talk about him. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at him unless for a cordial greeting if they crossed paths on the street.
“Ah, my appearance has changed since we saw each other last. She doesn’t recognize me at the moment, but she looks the same as always.” Zhongli said fondly, as if recalling a memory from the distant past.
But this was Ganyu they were talking about. The passage of time worked much differently with her. And by the sound of it, so with Zhongli.
It irked her a bit, the way that he answered questions with non-answers, expertly sidestepping the topic but at the same time, somehow addressing it. Ambiguous, mysterious. Much like himself.
She, however, liked to go straight to the point.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but…” Keqing ventured slowly. “Are you, perhaps… An Adeptus?”
A beat.
Tension grew in the air. When another heartbeat was met with more silence, Keqing sucked in a nervous breath.
So, what then? Did his silence confirm her suspicions? Was the consultant of the funeral parlor really one akin to a god?
Then, finally, Zhongli answered with a non-answer. He chuckled, hiding his lips behind the rim of his cup. He then scooted away from the tea table and Keqing nearly jumped out of her skin, half-expecting him to rain down divine punishment upon her for courting with one of their own, despite her history of slandering their name.
He started to stand, slowly. Keqing drew in what felt like her final breath with a silent, mental curse. Oh fuck.
Her mind, always working ten paces ahead, already scribbled out her obituary: Keqing, the Yuheng of Liyue, skeptic of the Gods, perished at the hands of the divine at the goddamn Wangsheng Funeral Parlor—
However, Zhongli did not gouge her through with a lance nor did the earth underneath dragged her being to the depths of the underworld. Instead, he bowed deeply, his upper body strictly parallel to the floor and hands crossed behind his back.
“What are you—?”
“Please,” Zhongli said, humble and solemn, “take care of Ganyu.”
The hairs on the back of Keqing’s neck stood on end. But her answer was immediate and automatic. “Of course. For as long as I am at her side, and forevermore.”
No, wait. This was a rather strange turn of events.
Rather than an encounter with the heavenly deity, it started to feel more like she was getting approval from a father to date his daughter—
Zhongli raised his head—Keqing jerked to attention—and he pushed the box towards her again. “Then if just for that reason alone, I believe you are of warranting of this."
A trap. Keqing was already convinced. The moment she opened that box was the moment that spelled out her doom.
Before Keqing could protest again, Zhongli held up his hand. “Please take it. As per the nature of the product, I wouldn’t be able to return it back to its vendor even if you refuse.”
Unable to delay the inevitable any longer, she placed her hands over the top. Keqing’s grimace continued to persist until her jaw dropped to the floor when she finally pried open the box, eyes widening in unabashed surprise.
“I can’t accept this!”
“Is it not to your liking?” Zhongli actually seemed hurt, disappointed. “You seemed intrigued by this color while we were perusing the shop’s selection.”
“No, that’s not—” Keqing screeched in exasperation then froze, shock slowly washing over her expression. “Wait, did you get this from the same place? How much did this cost?!”
“Oh, not to worry. I wrote a reminder on a napkin to bring my wallet,” he replied smoothly with that same damningly calm smile. “My guest from afar even offered to pitch in when I told him that you introduced me to an exquisite new establishment.”
“Don’t let random people help you buy frivolous things!” Keqing slammed her hand down on the table. “Rex Lapis isn’t here to mint new currency. You should be more careful with your spending, not be more reckless with it!”
His eyebrows jumped in alarm. “I… I didn’t think of that.”
“You should!”
“That the Golden House wouldn’t be able to produce more mora without Rex Lapis…”
“That wasn’t the point!”
Zhongli’s brows then furrowed, deep in thought. After a moment of reflection, he smiled brightly. “It shouldn’t be a problem. It is as you said, Lady Yuheng. Now is the time of humans, not of adepti and gods. I have full faith that the Tianquan will find a solution to the mora shortage soon.”
“That wasn’t the point,” Keqing groaned, burying her face in her hands and frustration arcing through her. The telltale signs of a headache were already thrumming at her temples. She did not have time for this right now. “Okay. Look. If you can’t return it, fine, let me pay you back for it. Give it to your friend, I don’t care. Tell me the price.”
Zhongli cocked his head slightly, confusion plain on his face. “My Lady, if you were to pay me back, it wouldn’t be a gift but a transaction.”
“Then let me make a transaction!”
“Hoo! What’s with all this screaming?” A voice cut in. Hu Tao rounded the corner of the room, grinning broadly. “Why is it the Yuheng! You’re so fired up today! Are you here to finally accept my proposition?”
“No, I didn’t—”
“You know what? For all your hard work and service, how about I make a deal with you? Fifty percent off for an extra coffin and a bonus five percent more for every decade you don’t die young! If you think you’re gonna kick the bucket at forty years old, that’s a nice grand total of sixty percent off! I'll personally make sure your body will be taken care of when you die prematurely of stress.”
“What the fuck—”
“Now, now,” Zhongli interjected calmly. “The Yuheng has an important appointment this evening. She can’t die just yet.”
“Okay! Well!” Keqing abruptly stood up and nearly knocked over her glass in her haste, thoroughly having enough of whatever this was. If she stayed a moment too long, that throbbing vein at her temples could burst and she might actually die. “Thank you for your hospitality. And I’m sorry but I’ll have to decline your deal for now, Director.” I plan to live a damn long and happy life, thank you very much, she nearly spat out. “I think I’ll take my leave now.”
This was a mistake. Coming here was a mistake.
With patience running extremely thin, Keqing spun on her heel and started towards the door, only to be pulled back by a tug on her sleeve.
Zhongli gestured to the box. “You almost forgot to take this.”
“I can’t take it unless you tell me how much you paid for it,” she ground out.
“And I can’t tell you because I’m giving it to you.”
“For archon’s sake, just take my mora!”
“Why, dearest Yuheng,” Hu Tao cried out dramatically, “your glass is already empty! Zhongli is such a terrible host, isn’t he? Allow me to refill it for you!” Hu Tao enthusiastically bounded towards Keqing with the pitcher full of iced tea in hand, sloshing precariously at the rim.
From the corner of her eye, Keqing spotted the tail end of the Exuvia plush that she recalled Zhongli carried around the markets with him and how Hu Tao’s foot was landing right above it—
“Wait, watch out!”
But it was too late. The pitcher slipped from Hu Tao’s hands, flying comically in the air in slow motion and drenching the entirety of Keqing’s front. Keqing shuddered, goosebumps erupting out of her skin and from her barely held self-restraint.
Why bother with self-restraint though?
This was the funeral parlor, was it not? Therefore, murder must be okay in here.
She snapped her patience on her own.
“Hu Tao,” Keqing hissed dangerously through gritted teeth. “Prepare yourself. I’m going to murder you ten times over.”
“Lady K-Keqing,” Hu Tao sobbed, her large crimson eyes filling with crocodile tears. “You’ll do that for little ‘ol me? Why, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me!” She whipped out several sheets of paper from one of the side cabinets. A click of a pen. “Here you go! A purchase of ten coffins, yes?”
A sword, of lightning and steel, gleaned its teeth. “One for your head, nine for your limbs and entrails.”
Zhongli looped his arms under Keqing, hoisting her up effortlessly by the armpits like a pet owner would with their grumpy cat after a bath. “Lady Yuheng, perhaps another time? If you dismember the Director now, you’ll ruin your clothes and be late for your date.”
“My clothes are already ruined!”
“Ah! In that case,” Zhongli set Keqing down, right next to the side of the table where the box still sat. “I have something just for you.”
Anger fizzled out and momentarily forgotten, Keqing slow-blinked at the box. Then soundly smacked her forehead with the base of her palm as her sword scattered to the wind. She groaned loudly in utter exasperation, dragging her palm down her face.
“If you run back to your estate to change, you’ll be late,” Zhongli supplied helpfully.
As much as she hated it, he was right.
She really, really, did not have time for this.
Without another word, Keqing ripped up the box and slung the contents over her shoulders. “Where’s the restroom?” She marched out of the room and into the hall.
“Down the corridor and first door to your right!” She could hear Hu Tao call out from behind.
Zhongli poked his head into the hallway to add, “If you need help with anything—”
“I’m fine!” A loud slam of the door.
Zhongli returned to the counter and poured a new cup of steaming hot tea. “Director, would you like some? I brewed your favorite.”
“No honey, please and thank you!” Hu Tao cooed happily, taking a cup and sipping. “So how long do you think I have to live?”
He smiled another one of those frightfully calm and reassuring smiles. “If all goes well tonight, a good long while.”
In a flash, Keqing emerged down the hall, shrugging her jacket on and absently fiddling with the half-done tie dangling at her neck. Her work clothes were gathered messily in her hand. She paused in front of the hallway entrance, stiff and uncharacteristically out of her element. “H-How does it look?”
A whistle. “Looking real good, Lady Yuheng!” Hu Tao gave her a thumbs-up. “You’ll definitely knock her dead!”
“Please don’t talk right now.”
“Okie-dokie!”
Zhongli made a sound of neither approval nor disapproval, eyes flicking at her attire from head to feet. He approached, fixing her tie and straightening her collar. “Something’s missing… Ah, Lady Keqing, your hand,” he said, taking Keqing’s wet clothes to lay them out on the table. There, he removed the violet and gold feather and flower accessory attached on the sash of the dress and returned back to Keqing. With great care, Zhongli repinned the flower on the front of her jacket breast pocket and tucked the feather inside. Then he nodded, visibly pleased. “Perfect.”
For some reason, some irritatingly strange reason that she couldn’t put her finger on, Keqing felt a budding flare of confidence in her chest at his acknowledgement. Then just as promptly, she crushed it, extinguished it. Because why would she care for random validation from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor consultant?
Assertive, Keqing reminded herself. One must always be confident and assertive.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she strided towards the entrance of the funeral parlor with sharp, clipped steps. “I’ll be off.”
Zhongli followed in suit, leaving Hu Tao to snicker to herself back in the other room. “I’ll make sure that your clothes are properly laundered and delivered to your estate before the morning.”
Keqing tugged at her violet gloves. “Good.”
“One last word, if I may?”
“Go on.”
Zhongli gazed back at her with that same peculiar fondness. “Have a nice evening.”
Keqing grinned, a little bit cheeky. “Thank you.”
As she ran down the stone pavement of the Feiyun Slope, Keqing only faintly remembered that Zhongli never answered her question.
Keqing skidded to a halt outside the doors to the Liuli Pavilion, nearly throwing the door open before stopping. She took a moment to compose herself, smoothing out the creases in her jacket and hand combing through her twintails to tidy up her appearance—it would be improper of her to look like a mess when she was the one that made this reservation in the first place. She cleared her throat, still trying to become accustomed to the feeling of the tie around her neck and opened the door.
“Welcome in!” Licai of the Liuli Pavilion greeted only to freeze in her tracks to gape at Keqing, so wide-eyed that Keqing almost felt self-conscious of her attire. But she didn’t have time to go back and change now.
“My reservation for this evening,” she said curtly.
The server seemed to snap out of her trance, a blush creeping on her face possibly out of embarrassment. “O-of course! My apologies. Please, right this way. You’re right on time.”
Keqing held her tongue, wincing; being right on time meant that she was late. “What of my guest?”
“She had only arrived just a few minutes ago.”
“Thank you, Licai,” Keqing read the name tag neatly pinned onto her qiopao and was slightly confused when her blush seemed to increase tenfold.
She was led outside the private dining room, the door slightly ajar. Ganyu was probably already inside.
Licai scampered away upon reaching the destination, still flustered and clumsy. Paying her no mind, Keqing once again smoothed the front of her jacket, opened the door, and her breath hitched.
The way the V of the cut plunged so deep to reveal a tantalizing view of the small of Ganyu’s back made Keqing weak at the knees. It was a deliberate decision on Keqing’s part and easily her favorite part of the entire dress. After becoming so accustomed to seeing so much of her bare back with Ganyu’s normal wear, it would be a complete shame to hide it.
Then she turned. Keqing didn’t bother to hide the way her eyes shamelessly traced the shape of Ganyu’s figure. The long silk ends of her dress fluttered and flared out as she did, revealing a scandalous peek of toned legs between the high slits before a sheer lace layer of deep blue settled back into place with the silk around her ankles. Following the pale gold trims that ran up her sides was the delicate qilin embroidery, soft and subtle. A diamond-shaped opening that dipped right below her collarbone to reveal just a bit of cleavage sparked a flurry of tingles in Keqing’s stomach. And finally, a high neckline—just as Ganyu liked her wear—in a cool ice white to match the long gloves that continued up her arm to her biceps.
On second thought, maybe it was too revealing, too seductive. The urge to rip into it seemed quite tempting.
Ganyu openly gaped wide-eyed back at Keqing as well, a pretty pink blush tinting her cheeks. She recovered first. “Keqing,” she breathed.
“Sorry,” Keqing started dumbly as she closed the door behind her. “I didn’t make you wait too long, did I?”
“Not at all. I only just arrived as well.” Ganyu’s eyes were still roving over her. “Your clothes...”
Keqing fought the urge to fidget, feeling inexplicably shy. “It doesn’t look strange, does it?”
She didn’t know what was going through Zhongli’s mind when he decided to give her, of all things, a tuxedo.
Form-fitting and sleek and in a deep dark violet for both the jacket and trousers. In contrast, the black shawl lapels were an uncommon sight than the typical notch design yet added a more modern touch to the rest of the attire. Beneath the jacket, a simple silken white dress shirt and a soft lavender silk tie. Gold detailing for buttons and trims for a subtle, yet luxurious touch. To finish it off: her signature feather and flower.
Confidence suddenly waning, Keqing waited, giving into the urge to idly play with the buttons of her cuffs with a tiny, hopeful curve of a smile at her lips.
Ganyu walked closer and closer, until she was scant inches away. She lightly slid her thumbs under the lapels to purposefully run them down Keqing’s front. Keqing shivered under her touch. “You look exceptionally handsome tonight,” Ganyu murmured into her ear.
“And you look absolutely stunning,” Keqing replied, breathless.
“Mhm.” Ganyu’s low voice vibrated across the line of Keqing’s jawline. The sensation of it, of her pressed up against her, had Keqing flushing hot.
Keqing brought a hand up to lightly guide Ganyu in for a kiss that grew only headier and more passionate the longer their hands were on each other. When Keqing pressed a leg in between Ganyu’s thighs, she let out a breathless gasp of her name.
Were it not for Licai’s voice announcing to them that their food was ready to be served from outside the door, Keqing would’ve nearly forgotten where they were.
Panting and slightly disheveled, they pulled apart.
Keqing tucked a stray lock of Ganyu’s hair behind her ear. “Dinner?”
With lust still clear in her eyes, Ganyu nodded. She replied, “Dinner. And later, dessert.”
They walked slowly up the stone path through Yujing Terrace. Keqing walked a half step behind Ganyu, quietly enjoying the sight of Ganyu’s bare back and the slight sway of her hips.
At the foot of the staircase between Bubu Pharmacy and Yuehai Pavilion, Keqing offered her hand to Ganyu, who gladly accepted. They continued to walk in a peaceful quiet, shoulders brushing, content to bask in the company of each other under the gentle glow of the moonlight, until they finally arrived at Ganyu’s house.
“Thank you for taking me out tonight,” Ganyu said. “Though, when you mentioned dinner, I was expecting something from Wanmin. Don’t you prefer the food at Xueyun too?”
“I do,” Keqing agreed. “But as much as you and I enjoy Xiangling’s cooking, I figured that we could try something different. Besides, there’s more vegetarian options we’ve yet to try at Liuli than over there.”
That was the half-truth. The golden shrimp balls at Xueyun were simply divine. The very thought of them was nearly salivating. It was just by luck that Keqing managed to snag a spot at Liuli on short notice—she happened to overhear Ningguang cancelling her reservation for a meeting with the fellows at the Commerce Guild and swooped right in at the opportunity, several weeks prior.
“To be honest, I didn’t know what I was expecting when you said that you wanted to have a special evening together. This,” Ganyu gestured with a hand smoothing the side of her dress and Keqing hungrily followed the movement with her eyes, “surprised me when your assistant delivered the package this afternoon. It must’ve been expensive.”
“You deserve every mora of it,” Keqing said. “I was gone for nearly a month, and you worked overtime every night until I returned. For me. Going shopping together and even this evening—it still feels like I haven’t done enough to repay you.”
Ganyu’s expression softened. “You know you don't have to; coming back to me safe and sound makes it all worth it in the end.”
“Yeah, but…”
At Keqing’s hesitation, a playful smile danced at Ganyu’s lips. “But if there is one thing you can do for me…” Ganyu tugged at Keqing’s tie, nimble fingers deftly loosening it as she crashed her lips onto Keqing. “Stay with me a little longer?”
“Archons,” Keqing groaned, her voice low and husky and self-control snapping like a twig. Her hands ran up Ganyu’s thighs between the slits of the dress to grope her bottom. Ganyu instinctively pressed her body into her. “I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been itching to tear this thing off you the entire night.”
Ganyu plucked at the top button of Keqing’s collared shirt and moved to undo one more. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate you ruining this new lovely dress of mine.”
A kiss, deep and famished. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” Keqing nearly growled.
“Then, we better get out of these quickly.” Ganyu slid the door open and gently pulled Keqing by the tie to beckon her inside, further and further, into her bedroom. She faced away from Keqing, brushing her flowing cerulean blue hair over her shoulder to allow access to the pin securing the high neckline. “Help me out of this?”
Keqing threw her tie carelessly to the side, punctuating with a roguish grin. “Why, of course.”