Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

part i: the lessons a goddess must learn

Birds flew above, singing of the new day that was before them. Their mechanical wings flapped as they pulled across the curtains in the room, allowing a bright stream of sunshine to flow in.

Keqing yawned and rubbed at her eyes, right as a cheery voice greeted her, “Good morning.”

“Ten more minutes,” Keqing mumbled, pulling the white sheets over her head.

“A goddess must not be late for her duties. This is what’s inscribed in the third passage in the Heavenly Principles—”

Keqing waved a hand in the air, effectively shushing her assistant. But her sheets were quickly torn from her grasp, and Keqing squinted through one eye to see a pink parrot hovering over her head.

Keqing sighed. “I said ten more minutes, Ai.”

Ai, seemingly having escaped the effects of being muted, shamelessly continued, “You have countless prayers and requests to sort through. I’m sure you know why.”

“Because the Windblume Festival is just around the corner,” Keqing answered, sitting up reluctantly in bed. As she did, a wide hologram screen appeared in front of her. The inbox reserved for mortals’ prayers was blinking a big red number: 250,000. “Well. There’s a long day ahead of me.”

Ai flew around and sat on her shoulder. “Based on my calculations, the number of these requests should double within the next few hours.”

“No need to remind me.” Keqing slipped out of her bed and walked towards the bathroom. “Don’t disturb me for an hour.”

“During that hour of bath time you’ll take for yourself, you are expected to receive 50,000 more requests—”

Keqing closed the door behind her, rubbing at her temples as she stopped in front of her sink. Her reflection in the mirror was already beginning to show faint dark circles under her eyes, and she knew it would only worsen over the next day. Even the trail of small pink hearts that appeared behind her head and shoulders seemed to look dimmer from her fatigue.

This week was one that she dreaded the most. Coming in second place was Lantern Rite, a celebration that made her life busier with each passing year. Millions of the single folk in Liyue would beg for a significant other to spend their Lantern Rite with. But nothing compared to the prayers that poured in the week of the Windblume Festival, the one holiday celebrating love that had originated in Mondstadt.

Even a thousand years ago, Keqing was not bombarded with as many prayers as she was today. But with the modernization of the world and widespread technology, the Windblume Festival had spread outside of its home region. While some could consider it a blessing, it was a curse for her.

After washing her face and preparing her bath, Keqing summoned a hologram that appeared over her glass bathtub. One corner played today’s hottest music video, which seemed to be newly released by an idol group in Sumeru. Another corner displayed a slideshow that flashed images of a recent party hosted in Celestia by none other than Mondstadt’s god himself, Barbatos.

Keqing felt a wave of annoyance at the image of Barbatos sprawled on a couch, lazily sipping from a bottle of wine. It was nothing personal, really, just the fact that her life was now about to be very busy thanks to a holiday that originated from his land.

Despite the looming stress over her day, Keqing turned on some calming classical music and closed her eyes. Her robotic assistant parrot would have lots to say to her later, for sure, nagging about the long hour she took for her bath. But this hour was very necessary for collecting what remained of her sanity before she tackled the day.

➵ ✩

In what she called the Love Room, there were pink couches, rugs, and paintings scattered throughout. But what stood out in here were the thousands of holographic bubbles that floated through the air. Each bubble allowed her to look into the lives of the people who sent her their prayers, and this was the way she was able to utilize her powers to pair them with their new lovers. A matchmaking technological device that she utilized was called Infinity System. It was synced to each bubble, analyzing everyone by their personalities and assigning people based on their compatibility.

When the best suitable companion was decided, all Keqing had to do was summon an arrow with a heart-shaped tip, sending it down to the mortal realm. The arrow would fly down, finding its place in the person’s heart, to guide them to whoever they were destined to be with.

After thousands of years of the same old practice, Keqing was now unfazed when she listened to her list of prayers. In recent years, the prayers were becoming more superficial. People would ask for a lover, but for weak reasons, such as having someone to post and boast to others about through their social media.

When Keqing detected such insincere prayers, she played back at them using her own methods. Those requests she would intentionally pair with people they were incompatible with, those they were only destined to break up with in the span of a week. It was insulting to her, for these people to be asking of her powers for such trivial matters.

But one prayer in particular caught her attention today.

It was from a woman in Liyue, who was not sending in a request for herself, but for someone she knew.

Goddess,

I have a best friend named Ganyu, one who is not your average person. She’s famous, but that is besides the point. Ganyu is a half-Qilin who has lived in Teyvat for thousands of years. She even served in the Archon War in the past, so she’s quite honestly one of the best people to exist. But I may be biased.

Needless to say, she’s lonely (although she denies it, even though we can all see it loud and clear). I am not praying today for myself, but for Ganyu.

She says she has never had a Windblume date, which is just heartbreaking. Seriously. It almost brings me to tears whenever I have a drink with her and the topic comes up. To live that long and not have a Windblume date… I don’t know how she does it. But I am hoping that can soon change.

Please, I beg you to work your magic. I don’t know if you even exist. Or how you even give people lovers. I should have done my research, but if this works out, I promise you I will visit your shrine every month. Although this is a bit of a hopeless case (possibly), I believe you are the only one who could fix this because I do feel as if Ganyu may live the rest of her long life alone. Which, of course, really wouldn’t be the end of the world. But I sense it from her often, how her solitude can get tiresome. I just want her to feel less alone, to have someone she can rely on. To know what it’s like to have a lifelong lover.

Everyone prays to you around Windblume, so I figured, why not write this letter at your shrine and give it a try?

From,
Beidou

(P.S.: I have been a very good woman when it comes to love, if that matters to you at all. You know, maybe I can win some extra points so you can prioritize this prayer over the others. May you feel my desperation.)

Keqing watched as the prayer disappeared into small, dispersed pixels before her eyes. A bubble that was the size of her fist instantly appeared in front of her, one that showed a blue-haired woman with black horns, her face obscured by a thick stack of papers.

Ai flew over to take her position on Keqing’s shoulder. “Oh, Ganyu sent a prayer?”

“You know her?” Keqing asked, rotating the bubble to observe the car that Ganyu was sitting in. “She’s famous, apparently.”

“Ganyu is an award-winning actress, one who’s actually won the most awards among all the other actors. She’s revered in particular for her immortality, and films love to cast her due to this reason, since she never ages. Some notable films she has been in include—”

As Ai droned on and on about Ganyu, Keqing stopped listening at one point and started looking at Ganyu’s profile that was on the screen in front of them. This time, she was able to see the woman’s face. She was pretty, for sure, with her large iridescent eyes and the way her soft lips curved into a small, pure smile. Keqing could see why she was so famous.

“It’s not every day we get to match an immortal with someone else,” Keqing said as she turned to Ai. “Let’s get to work.”

Ai blinked in surprise. “In the history of all matchmaking, this is the first time I have ever seen you show particular interest in someone.”

“She’s immortal, and she’s even fought in the Archon War before, so that’s different. I also haven’t received a prayer on behalf of another.” Keqing started to scan the list of people that Ganyu was compatible with that popped up on her holographic screen. The people on the list were all women, as sorted out with Infinity System’s methods of retrieving people’s preferences.

Gods were prevented from providing their blessings or services to other fellow gods, so it was quite rare to be offering her matchmaking to someone who was immortal. She understood the loneliness that came with many years of life; she couldn’t imagine what that was like for an immortal who was constantly surrounded by humans, those who had such finite lifespans.

Keqing hummed to herself as she scrolled down the list. “These are all mortals. I wonder if they would be enough for an immortal?”

“When she’s hit by your arrow, I’m not sure if it would make a difference at all. According to my calculations, when you set people up with their most compatible matches, they have a 100% success rate, always lasting until the other dies,” Ai answered, then paused. “That is, if we exclude the data from the doomed matches you make out of spite.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Keqing tapped on a woman who was labeled as a 97% match for Ganyu. “This lady’s also working in the same field as her, and they have similar tame personalities.”

Ai chirped, calling upon a heart that detached itself from the many that made up the trail that followed behind Keqing. Keqing summoned a white arrow in her hands, attaching the heart to the end of it. These arrows had been designed by her many years ago, and they worked in a way that they were never apparent to the eyes of those in the mortal realm.

She took off the bow that hung across her back. With one eye closed, she aimed the arrow at the bubble that Ganyu was in. She swiftly released it, and the bubble made a soft popping noise as the arrow disappeared with it.

➵ ✩

The next day, Ai began to chirp when Keqing was in the middle of pairing up two older folk looking for one last passionate romance before their lives came to an end.

“What is it?” Keqing asked, wincing as Ai’s chirps grew louder. “Ai. Talk to me.”

“This is bad,” Ai said, flapping her wings as she flew up and down. “This is really bad.”

Keqing’s gaze followed the bird’s non-stop motion. “I won’t know what it is unless you tell me.”

“In the history of all your matches,” Ai said, her tone turning ominous, “for the first time, one has failed.”

“What?” Keqing frowned, turning away from the bubble in front of her to look at Ai. “That’s impossible. Which one?”

“The lady you matched Ganyu with,” Ai said, waving her wings in front of a bubble until a memory seemed to appear within it. “This is them on their date.”

Keqing could see the problem immediately as she stared at the bubble, the mirage of Ganyu sitting with a black-haired woman at a restaurant. As the two talked as they ate, it was glaringly obvious that there was no arrow to be seen on Ganyu’s chest.

“Where is her arrow?” Keqing frowned, making a swiping gesture in front of the bubble to backtrack the flashback. She stopped when the bubble showed the moment her arrow shot Ganyu in the chest.

The arrow was there. As she skipped through the next memories, the arrow remained in Ganyu’s chest, all up until the moment she met her match. As soon as Ganyu said a word to the black-haired actress, the arrow fell off her chest.

“This is bad,” Ai chirped nervously, “really, really bad. How could this happen?”

“Maybe it was a faulty arrow,” Keqing said, and even as she said it, she knew it was unlikely. With her divinity, the arrows she made could never be flawed. “We can try another highly compatible match on the list. Perhaps something was wrong with that other actress.”

“Infinity System never makes faulty matches,” Ai said bluntly, shaking her little bird head rapidly. “I believe the problem is with Ganyu herself.”

“This makes no sense.” Keqing’s brows furrowed. “To resist divine intervention is such an anomaly. But it wouldn’t hurt to try again.”

“I don’t think it’ll work.” Ai’s soft sigh followed.

“What a great mindset to have,” Keqing retorted, pulling up the list of Ganyu’s potential matches once more. “We’ll find someone else. Everything is fine.”

“Everything is not, in fact, fine.”

“Thank you, Ai,” Keqing said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she tapped on the next person at the top of the list. “This woman’s a farmer. The same 97% match. It’s good enough.”

“This is doomed.”

“Ai.” Keqing turned to face the bird. “Don’t make me reprogram you to be more positive.”

Ai cried for help and flapped her wings as she flew high up in the room. “That defies the contract you signed when you received me as your assistant.”

“Hush, then.” Keqing sighed as she grabbed a heart that was floating by her ear and stuck it onto the tip of a white arrow. “We’ll make it work this time.”

“Will we?”

“We will,” Keqing muttered as she sent the arrow whizzing into the bubble.

➵ ✩

Ganyu’s new match failed, once more. So did her next one. And the next. A total of ten matches, which was truly mind-boggling to Keqing. She was stumped. In all her years, she’d never seen a case like this.

“I think we’re meddling a little too much,” Ai said, pointing her beak at the corner of the news screen. “Look at that headline.”

Keqing could see it very well. It was about how Ganyu had gone on a total of ten dates with different ladies in the past couple of weeks, because of course they were keeping good track of it too. Ganyu’s fame was making this all the more difficult.

“It’s just so confusing.” Keqing sighed, running a hand through the soft waves of her light-pink hair. “How can someone be immune to the effects of the arrow?”

“Maybe it has to do with her immortality.”

Keqing shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it. Immortal or not, this level of rejection of a divine intervention suggests it’s something else.”

“What are we going to do, then?” Ai nervously flapped her wings. “This leaves a stain on your perfect matchmaking record.”

Keqing glanced at the inbox on the screen, which was down to a mere ten prayers. After the passing of the Windblume Festival, her workload was easing up tremendously, which meant she had more leisurely time to spend during the day.

“I’m going to get her a match,” Keqing said with every ounce of determination. “My matchmaking record will remain flawless.”

“You’ll send her on an eleventh date?”

“I will. But I won’t do it based on the match that Infinity System generates.” Keqing turned and walked out of the Love Room, the long ends of her white dress brushing against her ankles.

“How will you do it, then?”

As Keqing passed through the long hall, she glanced at the painting in front of her. It was one that stretched across the wall, an artistic piece of ancient Liyue Harbor with its beautiful red buildings and stairs. It was a gift an esteemed artist had left in one of her shrines long ago. “I’ll go down to the mortal realm myself.”

Ai chirped loudly. “Did I hear that correctly?”

“It’s been some time since I’ve paid the mortals a visit.” Keqing brushed away a small particle of dust that rested on the corner of the painting. “I’ll fix this personally. But before that, I think I’ll need to do some research.”

Her research on Ganyu was justified. To discover more about this abnormal target, she decided it was necessary to analyze Ganyu’s personality for herself. Thanks to Ganyu’s well-known status, this was an easy task. A simple search online led to thousands of results floating their way onto her screen.

There was one video that Keqing started off with. It was a one-minute video titled, “World Star Ganyu Talks About Her Ideal Partner!”

It turned out to be a snippet from an interview that Ganyu did a few years back. The host of the show was very loud and vibrant, making Keqing flinch a bit when she heard a loud voice that nearly screeched in her ear, “So, tell us, Ganyu. What do you look for in someone?”

Ganyu sat upright with perfect posture on the seat across from the host. She spoke softly, “This is one question I’ve been asked repeatedly over the years. Would you believe me if I said I still don’t have an answer?”

The host gasped. “Is this a puzzling question that even a few thousand years cannot solve?”

Ganyu laughed, the corners of her eyes also smiling. “When I think of a potential lover, I suppose all I can hope for is for them to be kind and considerate. Nothing beats kindness. That’s truly what I’ve learned from my years of life.”

The host leaned closer, her voice lowering. “Does this not describe your many past co-stars? They’ve all been well-known for their gentle qualities.”

Ganyu tilted her head, her bangs falling across her eyes. “I believe you’re trying to get me to name a celebrity crush. I do not have any.”

The host sat back with a defeated expression. “Ganyu, your standards must be unimaginably high.”

“Perhaps.” Ganyu only smiled politely, and that was where the video ended.

Keqing frowned as she murmured, “Well, that was clickbait.”

Ganyu had only listed such general qualities that anyone would seek in their potential love interests. Keqing sighed and started to click through the next videos that were recommended to her.

Video after video, she began to learn more of what Ganyu was like. Soft-spoken, respectful, and funny when she wanted to be. Keqing watched a compilation of Ganyu cracking jokes across various behind-the-scenes videos of her projects, which had made her laugh more than she expected to, winning her a weird look from Ai.

Ganyu liked dogs. A lot. Her favorite treat was Qingxin, and she couldn’t tolerate spice at all. It would only result in stomachaches for her. She was also pious, a devout follower of Rex Lapis (which made Keqing scrunch up her nose in distaste as she thought of Morax). But Keqing also understood that this faith was reasonable, knowing that Ganyu had once fought alongside him in the Archon War.

Ganyu was a morning person. She liked being outside in the rain, even stopping to do it often on the set. There was never an umbrella, just countless shots taken of Ganyu standing out under the rainfall with a blissful smile across her face.

Ganyu’s favorite projects to work on were slice of life shows and movies. She’d starred in hundreds of them, far outweighing any other genres she’d taken part of. Keqing scrolled past all of the titles of her works for what seemed like forever.

Ganyu was respectful and considerate. In interviews about how her age affected her work, Ganyu spoke of always taking part in projects where the cast was comfortable with her. An interesting fact Keqing learned was that the most physical touch Ganyu would do in her works was kissing. The reasoning being that her co-stars were much younger than her; which led Keqing to wonder if that was the reason why these matches were failing. Did it have to be an immortal match?

Keqing fell into a rabbit hole quickly—what started off as checking out an episode of one of Ganyu’s shows led to her binge-watching the entire season while she worked on a few new prayers that came rolling in.

While Keqing shot an arrow into a bubble as her attention remained on the show, Ai asked, “Is watching this show necessary for your research?”

“Very,” Keqing said, watching as Ganyu rode a bicycle with another woman. “She doesn’t know yet that her best friend, well, almost lover, has a terminal illness.”

Ai sat on her shoulder. “Why won’t she tell her?”

Keqing took a deep breath. “Where do I even start? So, they’ve known each other for ten years. What started off as working on a project together in class ended up being a fated meeting because they've been best friends since then. Throughout the years, they’ve developed an intimate relationship, but they’re both too scared to initiate anything first. The best friend can’t tell her that she’s sick because Ganyu’s character is supposed to be leaving abroad for a big job opportunity soon. She’s afraid that Ganyu will end up staying by her side to care for her if she tells her about the sickness.”

Ai chirped. “This is the first time ever that you’ve spoken 100 words in the span of twenty seconds. Are you interested in starting a career as an auctioneer in the mortal realm?”

Keqing looked at Ai in exasperation. “Did you even listen to what I was saying?”

“I did. I am still failing to understand how watching this show is useful for your research,” Ai said. “You’ve been watching content related to Ganyu for the past ten hours. Are you becoming a fan?”

“A fan,” Keqing sputtered, rolling her eyes. “Ai, I’m currently in the process of conducting thorough research.”

“This show has no relevance to Ganyu’s personal life. It is fiction.”

“Don’t talk about their love like that,” Keqing whispered, clutching her chest dramatically as she pointed at Ganyu and her lady friend. “Those two. Fiction or not, this is one of the best relationships I have ever seen.”

Ai sighed. “What else did I expect from the Goddess of Love?”

“I’m going to finish this show. Tomorrow, we go down to the mortal realm.” Keqing snapped her fingers, and a semi-transparent figure of herself appeared beside her. “This Keqing can take care of the tasks here while we remain preoccupied.”

It was a holographic version of herself built based on the technology in Celestia, one that would allow her to leave her position and visit the mortal realm. It still completed all the matchmaking tasks, shooting arrows at people’s hearts based on Infinity System’s computation of compatible matches.

The only downside to using this technology was that her real body would drain energy with its use. The few times she’d used it in the past, she’d often fallen asleep randomly when her energy ran out. It meant that the time that Keqing spent awake in the mortal realm had to be worth every second.

“Do you have a plan for what we’ll do?” Ai asked, waving her wings to summon another screen in the air. On that screen, a red pin on a map of Liyue appeared. “Ganyu is currently in the southern parts of Bishui Plain for the movie she is currently starring in.”

“Wherever she goes, I can go.” Keqing paused her show and turned to Ai’s screen. “Can you find me details of the movie she’s working on?”

Ai chirped, and a moment later, paragraphs of text began appearing on the screen. Two words in particular stood out to her: Stone Productions. That gave her all she needed to know.

“I suppose it’s time to finally contact that old man,” Keqing said, sighing as she pulled up Soar, the name of Celestia’s communication service, on her screen. “Isn’t it kind of funny? Ganyu worships the man who started the company she’s filming a movie for. If only she knew.”

Ai made a surprised noise. “The God of Contracts?”

“The one and only.” Keqing reluctantly sent a message to Morax asking for him to video call her when he was available. The call that came in was immediate. She accepted it, although there was a big part of her that didn’t want to, and she saw the black-haired man appear, surrounded by bookcases.

“Ferthur and Ai,” he said, with surprise on his face. “It’s been many years.”

Keqing gave him a curt nod, and it felt strange to hear her Celestia-given name come out of his mouth. She hadn’t heard him speak to her in what seemed like ages.

“342 years, to be precise,” Ai said, jumping up and down on her shoulder. “Good day, Morax.”

“Morax, I hope you’ve been well.” Keqing watched as a small brown dog appeared, jumping onto his lap. “Would you be willing to do me a favor?”

“Depends on what it is,” Morax replied. “What could the Goddess of Love possibly need from a God of Contracts?”

Keqing resisted the urge to end the call right then and there. Something about how he talked never failed to irritate her. It had to be the way he sounded so pompous without even trying. He was nice, sure, but maybe the issue was how he reminded her of her annoying grandfather from her mortal years long ago.

“This is about Stone Productions,” Keqing said, setting her personal feelings aside and focusing on the problem at hand. “Are you aware of the movie that’s being filmed currently called Live for Me?”

Morax nodded as his hand raised to pet his dog. “Yes, and what of it?”

Keqing cleared her throat. “If it’s possible, could you look into whether any minor roles in it are still open?”

“Is this for you?” Morax looked at her in disbelief.

“It is.” Keqing smiled brightly. “I need it for reasons I cannot disclose.”

Morax seemed doubtful. “Will these reasons go against the Heavenly Principles?”

Keqing’s eyes twitched at that. Morax was as uptight as she always remembered. “Of course not. I’m simply trying to do my research on the new trends of love among mortals.”

“By seeking a position in one of my movies,” Morax said, raising a brow. “Out with it, Keqing. You know that I won’t bite.”

“Zhongli,” Keqing said, irritated once she heard him calling her by such an informal name. A name she saved for her personal relationships, one that Zhongli did not have the privilege of being a part of. She braced herself for the act she was about to put on. “So, let me be honest. The truth is, Ai has become a massive fan of one of the actresses in that movie. Do you know Ganyu?”

Before Ai could respond, Keqing made a small gesture with a hand behind her back to hush the bird. Morax’s eyes widened, and the hand that was petting his dog also froze.

“Of course, I know Ganyu,” Morax replied, his brows furrowing. “But why exactly do you need this role?”

“Like I said, it’s in order to do my research on the new love trends. I took interest in this movie after Ai mentioned it,” Keqing said, her brain scrambling to figure out her next words. “I’ve heard it’s a romance movie.”

He still seemed unconvinced. “Does it have to be a movie with Ganyu in it?”

“Is there an issue with that?”

His bright amber eyes were pensive, and he finally sighed. “It’s just the matter that she is a famous actress, while you would be a rookie.”

“I…” Keqing faltered, then looked at Ai for support. “It just has to be Ganyu. Since Ai likes Ganyu so much, I figured getting a role was a good way to get us close to her in person for a brief moment. It’s Ai’s biggest dream to get a picture with her, and I figured I could do my study on love trends while we’re at it.”

Morax was staring for a good minute without saying anything, and she thought to herself, of course he wouldn’t agree to such a strange request. She was preparing another ridiculous excuse to say when he finally spoke.

“So this is all about Ai,” Morax said with a deep laugh. “Is that so? Then, I suppose I can’t refuse.”

Keqing was taken back by how he was accepting her weird reasoning, and she was wondering what kind of spell Ai had cast over the god. But she didn’t hesitate to roll with the change in his attitude.

“You’ll do it, then?” Keqing asked carefully, unsure of whether he would change his mind.

“Consider it done. I’m sure I can find you a small role in it somewhere, despite your rookie acting status.” Morax nodded. “I’ll be in touch with Director Wu, he’s in charge of the movie. Then I’ll send you the details of your role. But be careful, Keqing.”

She would be careful, although she wasn’t sure why Morax was being so wary. As soon as she said her quick goodbyes and ended the call, Ai’s chirps were loud in her ear.

“I can’t believe you said that I was Ganyu’s massive fan. Why must you lie?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say I was. But he didn’t even question it.” Keqing eyed Ai suspiciously. “That was really strange, and not Morax-like at all. I was expecting to be asked a hundred more questions. Why does he love you?”

Ai puffed out her chest in pride. “It may have been because of a party from years ago. Morax lost a necklace that was dearly precious to him and I was the one to find it.”

Keqing wrinkled her nose. “You shouldn’t have done such a nice thing for him.”

“It is thanks to my actions in the past that allowed for this lucky moment to happen,” Ai responded, huffing as she looked the other way. “Is it so hard to say a simple ‘thank you’ to me?”

“Thank you, Ai.” Keqing held back a laugh as Ai bowed. “Alright, you’re going to help me pick out a new hairstyle. We’re changing my appearance for my debut as an actress.”

“Why not purple? That’s the hair color you had when you were a mortal.” Ai spread her wings. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea?”

“I suppose so. It’s been a while since I had purple hair.” Keqing resumed the show as she scrolled through a list of hairstyles that Ai pulled up on the screen for her.

“What if you get famous after starring in this movie?”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not what the point of this is.” Keqing tapped on a purple hairstyle that was long, coming all the way to her waist. “Mortal fame is not important.”

“But what’s the plan after you get this role?”

“We’ll just keep conducting further research, of course.” Keqing smiled at Ai. “We won’t get a full picture of her personality to be able to match her with somebody until we get close to her.”

Ai let out a chirp that sounded like a laugh. “I think you’re the massive fan here.”

“Silly bird. Remember, that’s you.”

Keqing watched the rest of the show that night, even shedding some tears when she reached the sad ending of Ganyu’s best friend passing away in her arms. While Ai kept handing her tissues, she swore to herself that she would find the real Ganyu a lover to make up for the loss of her fictional one. While it was ridiculous, the desire to create a happy ending in the name of love was strong within her.

In the corner of her mind, she was wondering what in the world was keeping Ganyu from falling for the effects of her arrow. Whatever it was, she wouldn’t know until she went to scope out the scene for herself.

Her flawless matchmaking record would not be tainted.

Chapter Text

“Do I look like a manager?” Ai asked, standing in front of the mirror and stretching her arms out. “It sure feels weird being in a human form after so long.”

“What exactly is a manager supposed to look like?” Keqing crossed her legs and glanced up from the phone in her hands. After getting too used to holograms in Celestia, adjusting to the technology in the mortal world was quite the task. Too much tapping. Her fingers were already getting tired.

“Should I look older?” Ai turned around, pointing towards her face.

The human version of Ai looked like she was in her twenties. She’d chosen for herself bright blue eyes and jet black hair styled in a high ponytail. But Keqing wasn’t sure if this was what her manager was ideally supposed to look like. Did mortals even care for such things?

“You look fine.” Keqing stood up and watched as Ai began to switch hairstyles rapidly. “Manager, let’s go. Morax told me to meet one of his assistants in twenty minutes.”

Ai slightly gasped, stopping in the middle of swapping hair. There was a fringe across half of her face, as if she was the star of some kind of rock band. She quickly reverted to the ponytail from earlier and walked forth. “Let’s go, then. We don’t have time to waste.”

Keqing led Ai out of the apartment, locking the door behind her. This high-end place was one that Morax had been kind enough to provide her with, which had surprised her initially. Ai insisted that it was the necklace story from long ago that was the cause for Morax’s kindness, which won her many eye rolls from Keqing every time.

There had to be something else that was making Morax so amenable. What it was, Keqing still wasn’t sure of.

As it turned out, this whole apartment complex was owned by Morax. The workers were all his assistants, who greeted her by her Celestia-given name, Ferthur, each time they saw her. One of the assistants greeted them in the lobby this time, introducing himself as a chauffeur.

“Morax has all of these convenient services available in the mortal realm,” Ai said once they were inside the car, which was spacious with ample leg room and soft seats. “Why don’t you do the same?”

Keqing gave her a look. “It’s not like I frequently visit the mortal realm.”

“We could make it happen, though.”

“We could. But is it worth the applications we’d have to fill out?” Keqing countered, thinking of the long, never-ending forms she’d have to complete to get it all approved by the higher-ups in Celestia.

Ai sighed loudly. “It’s truly an enigma how you can be so productive and lazy all at once.”

“Thanks, Ai.” Keqing looked out the window, observing the tall buildings that they were rushing by. “Bishui Plains. It’s changed a great deal since the last time we were here.”

“The last time we were in Bishui Plains was 400 years ago,” Ai replied, starting to grin. “Do you remember the reason?”

Keqing remembered it quite well. “I do. No need to bring it up again.”

Ai’s grin grew bigger. “Really amazing, don’t you think? How reading a tragic light novel set in Bishui Plains could inspire you enough to pay a visit—“

Keqing didn’t hesitate to mute Ai at that point. While Ai’s lips moved, no sound came out. Ai rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Keqing said, yawning as she looked out the window. “Well, would you look at that? The energy drain’s already started.”

Ai’s temporary muting spell lost effect within seconds, and she replied, “What if you fall asleep on the set?”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Keqing peered closer to the window as a billboard of Ganyu wearing a blue bikini appeared next to the road. It was some kind of advertisement that promoted what appeared to be fruit juice that came in the shape of a round peach-shaped bottle. “Ganyu really is everywhere.”

“Can you imagine how much Mora she’s accumulated throughout all those years? According to estimates, her net worth is said to be at a trillion Mora. A trillion!” Ai sighed. “To think that she has more Mora than you, a whole goddess.”

Keqing frowned. “Hey. You can’t compare her to me. I’ve never had a use for Mora.”

“That should change after you star in this movie though, right?” Ai’s eyes widened in excitement. “Your first ever gig. This is a very important milestone.”

“I think you’re forgetting our purpose for coming here, Ai. Mora isn’t important.”

Ai laughed, but there were brief chirps between each laugh that slipped out. “You’re getting upset after I called you broke.”

“Why is your bird side showing through your laughter?” Keqing frowned. “If anyone else heard you, they’d see through you right away.”

“That’s a simple fix.” Ai closed her eyes. A series of laughter resulted as Ai sampled each laugh from the system. “It’s strange how that human-bird laugh was one of these choices.”

“I think a talking bird is strange enough.”

“We have arrived, Ferthur,” the chauffeur said as the car pulled into a parking lot. “When you are in need of a ride later, please don’t hesitate to contact the number that Morax has provided you with.”

“Thank you.” Keqing pushed open the car door and stepped onto the pavement. The sounds of chatter and people hurriedly passing by soon filled her ears.

There were large white trailers right in front of her, and a girl with brown hair greeted her instantly. “Ah, finally! Purple hair. You’re Keqing, right? Nice to meet you! I’m Amber. I’ll lead you to your trailer so we can get you ready.”

Before Keqing could even respond, Amber had already slipped past the crowd. With Ai right at her heels, Keqing quickly followed after Amber. Although she lost sight of the girl a few times, she made it to the destination after a few minutes of dodging all the other people who were walking like they were on a strict mission.

“This is Ai,” Keqing said, pointing behind her. “My manager. She’ll be coming with me.”

“Of course.” Amber held the door of the trailer open for both of them as they went inside. “You’re quite the talk of the set today, Keqing! A mysterious new actress, the late addition to the movie.”

“Is that so?” Keqing smiled. “I was also quite surprised to get this role so suddenly.”

“You have the best beginner’s luck, I say!” Amber grinned. “You both can have a seat. Your script should be right there too.”

Keqing took her seat in front of the vanity and reached forward to grab the script. According to Morax, in this role she played a woman named Ruijin who was good friends with Ganyu’s character, Jingli. From what she knew, there were only a few scenes she had to record with Ganyu.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but you’ll be wearing a wig.” Amber held up a black wig with two small pigtails in the air. “This was the decision the director made after he realized you had purple hair.”

“Is purple hair an issue?” Ai asked.

Amber laughed. “It’s because Ganyu’s love interest in this movie is played by Shenhe, who has white hair. So Director Wu didn’t want any side characters to have brighter hair colors that would distract the audience from the main couple.”

Keqing raised a brow. “That doesn’t make much sense, but alright.”

“The statistical possibility of hair colors affecting the audience’s perception of the main couple seems quite low,” Ai added, which won her a confused look from Amber.

“Technically, he could’ve given Shenhe a wig. But the whole selling point of this movie is that those two famous actresses are in it together.” Amber then clapped her hands. “Alright, shall we get you ready?”

“Go work your magic.” Keqing held the script closer to her face as she read through the lines.

The basis of the plot was a love story where Jingli fell for Yuming, Shenhe’s character, after a year of being pen pals writing letters to each other. Ruijin’s relevance to the story was that she was Jingli’s childhood friend. She was the one watching as her friend fell in love, while she herself was in love with Jingli and suffering from unrequited feelings.

Keqing’s heart broke for her own character, truly. Despite never acting once in her life, she believed she could channel the feelings of heartbreak after getting to know it so vividly with the stories of those who prayed to her. The many books she’d read before of characters who grieved the loss of their lover, or even suffered through the loss of a relationship always left her in a different state of mind for days. Crying each time she read one of those heartbreaking moments was her specialty.

Acting wouldn’t be too bad. Hopefully. But being a good actress or not wasn’t too important to her. She was only here to observe Ganyu and see what made her so resistant to the arrow. The rest of it would just be a fun opportunity to experience something new in the mortal realm.

One of the many thoughts that arose into her mind as she read through the script was that Ganyu was paired with a female love interest here, much like how Infinity System had filtered out Ganyu’s matches to all be women. Keqing remembered seeing online how Ganyu had made history by being the first openly lesbian actress in Teyvat.

It was a big reason why Keqing held massive respect for Ganyu. To have broken societal norms when it was such a hushed topic that was looked down on, it wouldn’t have been easy for her at all. But Ganyu had set a precedent, allowing for many other actors to come out soon after she had. From what Keqing read online, through Ganyu’s ceaseless hard work towards fighting for more representation in movies, it had become way more acceptable than it had been centuries ago.

Perhaps this was why it was hard to find a match for Ganyu. She had a whole array of accomplishments and awards lining her path. It wouldn’t be easy to find someone who was worthy of such a person living with such feats.

As hard as it seemed, it was a worthy challenge to Keqing.

➵ ✩

Keqing was on the sidelines of the set, watching Ganyu as she acted out a scene of a day at her office job. After seeing Ganyu so many times through her screen in Celestia, it felt surreal seeing her in person. While Keqing had never taken such interest in movies and shows produced by the mortal realm, she felt something was indeed spectacular about Ganyu’s acting. The real emotions on her face, the subtle expressions with her brows and lips, and the tone of her voice never failed to get through to the audience in the right way.

After this scene, Ganyu would come home to a letter from Yuming, her pen pal/girlfriend, who’d be writing to say that she’d just gotten engaged to a rich man in her small town. The ensuing heartbreak was what Keqing had to support Ganyu through in her first ever scene.

As the cameraman announced the end of Ganyu’s office scene, there was a round of applause. Keqing felt herself clapping along, watching as Ganyu smiled and thanked everyone before getting off the set for the intermission.

To Keqing’s surprise, Ganyu came walking right in her direction.

“Hi.” Ganyu smiled warmly and extended a hand. “You must be Keqing. I’m Ganyu.”

Keqing stared like a fool at first. Then she slowly took Ganyu’s hand and shook it. Ganyu’s hand was soft and warm against hers, and she was left wondering how long it’d been since she’d felt the touch of another. “Hi, Ganyu. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I look forward to working with you.” Ganyu’s hand left her grasp as she adjusted the necktie on her black blouse. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a new face on the set.”

Keqing brought her own hands together behind her back as she tried not to linger on the warmth she’d felt a moment earlier. “It’s an honor to be working with you.”

“We have about thirty minutes before we film our scene,” Ganyu said, pausing to take a sip from the water bottle a nearby staff member handed to her. “Would you like to briefly run through our lines? I tend to practice ahead with anyone I have long scenes with.”

Keqing felt herself nodding. She wasn’t sure what was the norm, she’d just have to go along with anything. “I would appreciate that very much.”

“Great. There’s a room nearby that we could use, you can follow me.” Ganyu gave her another gentle smile before turning around and starting to walk ahead.

There was a blur of motion in the corner of Keqing’s eyes—she turned to see that it was Ai. Her assistant had walked off earlier to take a tour of the set, but when she caught sight of Keqing with Ganyu, her eyes widened. Ai flapped her arms wildly, something she did as a bird when she was excited.

But seeing a human do it, it was a little ridiculous. Keqing only waved and hoped Ai would understand what was happening and not interfere. Ai seemed to understand, mouthing “good luck” to her. At least she had some sense remaining within her to not come barging into the conversation, which would only embarrass the both of them. Well, more so just embarrass Keqing. That was what Ai was good at.

Ganyu was full of good manners, something Keqing picked up from watching too many videos, but seeing it directed towards her was something else entirely. It caught her off guard when Ganyu pulled out a chair for Keqing to take a seat first, or how she was patient as Keqing messed up a few lines during their first readthrough. Ganyu even gave her a number of good pointers along the way. Tips for saying words in a different tone and helping her practice different facial expressions.

Memorizing the script was easy for Keqing, but getting her feelings across through her words was harder than she initially thought. Her character was supposed to be heartbroken as she watched her lover cry over someone else, but Keqing found it difficult to focus when she watched as Ganyu said her lines with so much pain in her words.

“I promise I’ll seem more sad later,” Ganyu said, laughing softly. “I know I’m just reading the lines right now. I’ll add tears for effect when it’s time to film this scene.”

“Even without tears, you sound pretty sad.” Keqing watched as Ganyu got up from her seat to walk over to a small fridge. “It must be the experience that comes with acting for so long.”

“I suppose it really has been that long by now, yes. Time really flies,” Ganyu agreed, taking out a water bottle from the fridge and holding it in the air. “Would you like one? I noticed you don’t have water with you. Hydration is key.”

“Yes, please.” Keqing reached out to grasp the water bottle, faltering when she felt Ganyu’s fingers brushing against hers. “What exactly got you into acting?”

Ganyu sat back down in front of her, her eyes lighting up in amusement. “Would you like to hear the same answer that I’ve told everyone for years?”

“Is what you tell them not the truth?”

“Not necessarily. I don’t have an exact reason,” Ganyu replied as she swept the long strands of her blue hair over her shoulder. “I usually just say that I was bored one day and decided to take it up for myself. A spontaneous decision. Which, I guess, is kind of accurate.”

“I can see why it’d make life more interesting.” Keqing found herself looking at Ganyu’s hands again, this time noticing a few golden rings on her long fingers. One each for her index finger, her middle finger, and her ring finger.

“It really does. In a way, acting allows me to experience the lives of hundreds of characters that I play.” Ganyu looked at her curiously. “What got you into acting? This is your first film, is it not?”

“It is,” Keqing said, her mind recalling the answer she’d prepared for this sort of question. Perks of having a robotic assistant meant she ran through about a hundred possible questions and answers with Ai. “It’s been a dream since I was a young girl, honestly. Since I was five.”

“The little you must be so proud. Is there a particular movie you watched that inspired you?”

“Actually, yes.” Although this wasn’t an answer she rehearsed with Ai, she could think of one that immediately came to mind. “The movie called When Daylight Strikes. It really stuck with me after I watched it for the first time.”

The first time she watched it was literally last night. But it was a movie that was released twenty-four years ago, so it was old enough to have inspired Keqing at a “young age” as she said. A movie that Ganyu starred in.

Ganyu’s eyes lit up in recognition. “That one’s a real tearjerker, isn’t it?”

Keqing gave a nod as she recalled how the movie’s tragic ending had made her bawl in ways she forgot was even possible for her body. “It is. I can only aspire to be as good of an actress as you one day.”

“I see it in your future. Hard work will bring good rewards.” Ganyu glanced at her watch and stood up with a big smile. “Now come, it’s time for our big scene.”

➵ ✩

Ganyu lived up to the promise to be filled with more emotions during the actual scene. Big teardrops were dripping from her eyes as she cried into Keqing’s arms, so much that her shoulder was quickly growing damp. It was making her want to cry herself.

Keqing rubbed a hand over Ganyu’s back, whispering, “Let it out.”

Ganyu pulled away as she sniffled. Keqing placed her hands around Ganyu’s face, gently wiping the tears away with her thumbs. Ganyu’s hand came over to cover one of her hands, and Keqing again saw that the rings were still on her fingers. She wondered if it was just a part of the role, but she recalled seeing them briefly in Ganyu’s other movies and shows.

“You are deserving of all the love, Jingli,” Keqing said as she looked into Ganyu’s eyes. “You deserve better than this.”

“It wasn’t her fault, that’s the thing,” Ganyu responded, her voice breaking. “Her parents are forcing her into that marriage.”

“It must hurt. I know that, and I am so, so sorry.” Keqing leaned forward to hug her once more. “We can try things to cheer you up, if you’d like.”

Ganyu let out a shaky sigh. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but we can try.”

“Let’s try our best.” Keqing moved her fingers up to tie Ganyu’s hair in a small bun. “If it doesn’t work, I give you full permission to kick me out.”

For the rest of the scene, Keqing comforted Ganyu using a wide variety of methods. Eating ice cream together, watching silly animal videos, and saying a bunch of bad jokes in an attempt to make her laugh. They ended up having to record the ice cream scene a couple times because Keqing made a disgusted face without realizing when first trying a bite of the peculiar flavor.

In her defense, it was an off-putting floral taste. Ice cream hadn’t even been around the last time she was in the mortal realm. While it had looked refreshing and promising at first, her fantasies had come crashing down when she took a bite and was left with the disappointment of feeling like she’d just eaten a whole garden of roses.

Throughout it all, playing the role of a girl hopelessly in love with her best friend made Keqing want to break out of her character and shout, “Open your eyes! She’s in love with you, fool!” But she realized mortal relationships were more complicated than she would like. She wouldn’t get any prayers if they weren’t, after all. And she’d probably get fired from her role if she messed up the scene by saying such a line. Having to retake some moments because of her spontaneous yawns was enough.

Once the “Cut!” later came out from Director Wu, Keqing was confused before realizing it meant the conclusion of filming. She breathed a sigh of relief. The first thing she wanted to do was chug water to get the weird taste of ice cream out of her mouth.

Ganyu immediately grinned, pointing her thumb up in the air as she said, “You did amazing.”

Keqing mimicked her thumb movement, whatever it meant. “That was all you. Thank you for all of the tips you gave me. And I really don’t know how you’re able to cry on command like that.”

“It honestly took me so long to be able to,” Ganyu answered, pausing in her conversation as the director stood up on a stool to make an announcement.

“Good work, everyone!” he said, clapping his hands. “We’ll end it here today. Don’t forget about the dinner later, it’s on me.”

A round of cheers rang out around the set, and Keqing looked at Ganyu in confusion. “There’s a dinner?”

Ganyu glanced at her, her eyes widening. “Oh, yes! I assume you haven’t been told about it yet. Every Friday, we rent out a restaurant nearby to all have a meal as a pat on the back for our hard work.”

Keqing gulped. “Is everyone expected to go?”

“It’s not a requirement, of course.” Ganyu’s eyes scanned her face. “Are you not interested in going?”

“Ah…” Keqing trailed off, wondering how she would answer this. After eating that peculiar ice cream earlier, she wasn’t sure if she would like whatever would be offered to the mortals at this restaurant. “Will you be going?”

“I will. It would be a nice opportunity for you to get to know everyone else, but if you’re not comfortable with it, there’s no need to force yourself.”

Keqing briefly glanced to her side, where she saw Ai nodding rapidly from a good distance. She took a deep breath as she remembered that the matter of her taste buds weren’t important here; they were here for a purpose. This was quite the most important mission she’d taken for herself in centuries.

“If you’re going, how could I not?” Keqing flashed her a smile, waving as she began to walk backwards towards Ai. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Ganyu waved back with another sweet smile of her own. “I look forward to seeing you!”

Walking backwards was not a talent she was skilled in. She almost fell over, but caught herself, taking quick small steps until she was standing right in front of Ai. She was greeting Keqing with a big grin.

“What’s with the blush?” Ai asked, nudging her shoulder.

Keqing lightly shoved Ai away, and she reached up to feel her cheeks. “What blush? My body’s just overheating after all of that. It was pretty stressful, you know.”

“Your complexion showed about 10% more of a pink hue than the baseline. It was as soon as Ganyu said, ‘I look forward to seeing you,’” Ai said, and she mimicked Ganyu’s voice exactly. The sound of her voice was exactly the same, probably due to replaying a recording.

“First of all, never do that again.” Keqing looked around, making sure no one had heard. Everyone else was a good distance away, preoccupied in their own conversations. “You’re going to blow our cover.”

“That’s what I should be saying to you,” Ai said, following her as they left the set. “Who makes that kind of face while eating ice cream?”

“Listen, it tasted absolutely awful. I need some water right away.”

“Listen, it tasted absolutely awful. I need some water right away,” Ai parroted, replaying Keqing’s voice right back to her.

“Stop that nonsense. Don’t make me send you back home,” Keqing said, rolling her eyes as she walked over to the trailer from earlier. She waved at Amber, who was waiting for them.

Ai, who apparently still had a very minimal amount of common sense leftover, stayed quiet once they saw Amber. Keqing was grateful.

“I caught a few minutes of you on the set! You were really great.” Amber clapped her hands. “Now, off with the wig.”

Keqing was finally able to wash the taste of the strange ice cream out of her mouth when Ai handed her a water bottle. As Amber worked to remove her wig and makeup, Ai kept them engaged in a discussion about recent celebrity drama. A pop singer was recently caught leaving a hotel with another well-known star, which was apparently a scandal due to the innocent image they both upheld to the public eye. (And something else about their fans crying out in agony online because of the damage that was inflicted to their parasocial relationships with those celebrities.)

Keqing thought about it, but she really couldn’t understand what was so bad about it. It was an act of love, after all. But there was nothing she could do with her personal opinion. Mortals were just strange.

➵ ✩

In the car ride to the restaurant, Keqing tried convincing Ai to come with her to dinner. But Ai only kept insisting, “I can’t even eat. And why would a manager attend that dinner? I’m not important.”

“You’re very important,” Keqing said. “What if people ask me something so mortal-like that I don’t understand and make a fool of myself?”

“I don’t know why that would concern me at all,” Ai replied with a growing smile.

Keqing sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Ai, you’d just like me to make a fool of myself, don’t you? What a kind assistant you are.”

“Did you understand that thumbs-up earlier?”

“The what?”

Ai blinked back at her with an innocent expression. “Nothing.”

Keqing stared at her as her brows furrowed. “You know, somehow you’ve gotten more annoying as a human.”

“It’s just a rare sight to see my goddess so helpless. Visits to the mortal realm are always so interesting.”

Keqing ignored the comment. “What is this thumbs-up you were talking about?”

“When Ganyu did this to you earlier,” Ai said, curling her four fingers and pointing her thumb upwards. “That was her giving you approval. You basically won at life if you got a thumbs-up from Ganyu herself.”

“Got it.” Keqing did a thumbs-up again, feeling a little giddy. “So I can say that I won at life.”

As they arrived at the restaurant, Ai reminded her, “Seriously, though. Please don’t make a fool of yourself. Remember what we’re here for.”

“Being serious doesn’t suit you too well,” Keqing teased as she opened the car door. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten what we’re here for.” To the chauffeur, she added, “Thank you for the ride!”

She got out of the car and eyed the restaurant that stood in front of her. It was large with a sleek white exterior, standing at about three stories tall. Keqing watched as groups of people laughing and talking with each other entered through the wide doors.

She also saw Ganyu with Shenhe by her side. The two walked ahead of her, Ganyu offering one of her gentle smiles as Shenhe held the door open for her. Keqing tilted her head as she watched them, side by side. Aesthetically speaking, the two of them looked nice together, with Shenhe’s height adding more of a contrast between the two. Shenhe could be a potential candidate for Ganyu if she turned out to have a compatible personality.

Keqing walked into the restaurant shortly after, following the crowd as they dispersed into the many tables in front of them. Everyone seemed to know where to go. The routines would have been established from coming here for weeks, but now Keqing was left wondering where she would sit.

Ideally, she wanted to find a spot next to Ganyu to try and get more information. But her table was full, so Keqing found a long table on the other side of the restaurant that Amber waved to her from.

“Welcome, welcome.” Amber grinned at her, then gasped as she peered closer. “Is that the limited skirt that was released in the Liyue Glamour line last fall?”

Keqing glanced down at her purple plaid skirt and then back at Amber. “I actually have no idea. This was a gift.”

A gift, but in reality, she’d picked it out of the wardrobe in the apartment that morning. But Amber believed it, gushing about how she had such good connections.

The good connection in question: Morax, a god. Keqing supposed it was true. The old man had some use after all.

Keqing let everyone at the table decide what food to order, since she had no idea what a lot of the names on the menu even meant. The person in front of her, a boy with ice-blue hair, kept stealing glances but never saying anything.

After he stole another look towards her, Keqing lost her patience and asked, “Is there something on my face?”

Amber looked between them. “What? Chongyun?”

Chongyun turned a beet shade of red as he shook his head. “No, there’s nothing on your face.”

Keqing stared at him. “Is something the matter, then?”

“I was just wondering something,” Chongyun said, scratching the back of his neck. “There have been rumors about you, I don’t know if you’ve heard.”

Amber was sipping her water from a straw when she paused. “Oh. This. I don’t know if we should bring it up—”

“Rumors,” Keqing repeated, leaning closer. “Like what?”

“People have been wondering how you got a role so quickly.” Chongyun nervously looked down at the table, avoiding her gaze. “Like… How they made up an entire character halfway into the movie and sent you in here.”

Keqing inwardly sighed as she cursed Morax for his clumsy work in getting her a role. But she supposed it wasn’t exactly his fault. She’d been the one to ask him for a role in a movie that already started production. “So, what are these rumors, exactly?”

“They’re saying you slept with Director Wu,” Chongyun said, his voice lowering until it was barely a whisper. “I know it’s absurd. I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t believe it, either. I also heard a rumor that you must be the director’s neighbor’s friend’s daughter’s husband’s cousin.” Amber tapped her chin with a finger. “At least, I think that was the order? It was really confusing. Are you okay, Keqing?”

Keqing was busy laughing as soon as she heard what Chongyun said. “Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“There’s also another rumor that you slept with someone influential in Stone Productions directly.” Chongyun started to laugh along awkwardly. “People are kind of the worst when it comes to making up these rumors.”

Keqing wiped a tear from her eyes. “The things people do in their free time. Thanks for the laugh.”

“It shouldn’t matter how you got here. People just talk too much.” Amber sighed, pointing her chin towards a table ahead of them. “The people there are the ones who talk the most.”

Keqing looked ahead and followed her train of sight, although it was hard to see the back of their heads. “Well, let them have their fun.”

Chongyun’s eyes grew wide. “You don’t care?”

“Why should I?” Keqing asked. “It’s just ridiculous, which makes it funny.”

“Those rumors could be damaging if they got out into the public,” Amber said, her brown eyes growing somber. “You just started your career, so it would be even more catastrophic.”

Keqing shrugged as a small yawn slipped out. “Let them talk however they please. It makes no difference to me.”

Chongyun watched her with big blue eyes that reminded her of a puppy. “That’s actually a really cool mindset to have. You’re pretty awesome.”

“You make a valid point, honestly. At the end of the day, it shouldn’t matter too much. Let’s just hope the talk dies out soon.” Amber glanced away at another table, surprise flickering on her face. “You know, Shenhe smiles a lot around Ganyu.”

Keqing looked towards their table, where Shenhe was indeed smiling as she talked with Ganyu. “Does she normally not?”

“Shenhe’s called the Ice Queen. Not in particular about her personality, but her looks. People say she’s nice, but yeah, her smiles are pretty rare.” Amber exhaled as she saw a waiter coming by. “Finally. Food’s ready.”

Keqing waited for all of the dishes to be passed down the long table, and she couldn’t identify most of them. It made little difference to her, as her body didn’t require food as much as a mortal’s did. All she could do was hope that nobody called her out for it and force her to try anything. She doubted the image of her gagging would help anyone’s appetite here at the table.

“Ganyu and Shenhe…” Keqing tried to imagine the two of them together. Maybe the answer was hiding in Ganyu being matched with someone she personally knew. Perhaps the arrow would listen if she was matched with Shenhe. But this was also a theory that could fail, as she wasn’t sure if Ganyu was uninterested in anyone younger than her.

“Shenhe’s rumored to be dating Yelan,” Chongyun said as he dug into a bowl of cold noodles. “Except nobody really knows who Yelan is.”

“I actually don’t believe that rumor,” Amber added as she brought a dumpling onto her plate with her chopsticks. “There are barely any pictures of them. There’s only one where they were caught walking together in the city.”

“Shenhe’s always been a private person, so you never know,” Chongyun countered, and the two debated the matter for the next few minutes.

Keqing realized these two were very much caught up with recent celebrity gossip. After they settled their debate—the conclusion being that yes, Amber supposed it was possible for Shenhe and Yelan to be dating—Keqing asked, “Did you two hear about Ganyu’s recent dates?”

Amber set down her chopsticks. “Don’t even get me started. She’s never been caught up in dating rumors until recently, so I’m still confused.”

“Publicity stunt, maybe,” Chongyun said. “Although such a famous actress doesn’t need a publicity stunt at this point.”

Amber shook her head. “But ten dates? She was going to one nearly every day. I think it really might be a publicity stunt.”

“It really could be. Did those people surprise you at all?”

“Her dates?” Chongyun took a moment to ponder. “I don’t think any of them suited her style. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Amber said. “To be honest, none of their outfits were screaming out to me that they were elegant.”

Chongyun snorted. “Woah, there. That’s kind of a harsh judgment. Looks don’t define it all.”

“I’m sorry, I know. It’s just that Ganyu is so pristine, you know?” Amber sighed dreamily. “She always dresses so nicely and has her hair perfectly done. I don’t feel like any of her dates matched that kind of energy.”

“So you both see her with a person that’d be as elegant as Ganyu.” Keqing rubbed the back of the neck as she wondered what in the world she was doing. This information wouldn’t be useful at all, not when it was based on aesthetic appeal and nothing about a personality match.

“I think it’d be hard to even find someone deserving of someone like Ganyu,” Chongyun added. “I mean, she’s done it all. Served in the Archon War, donated to a ton of charities, and now she’s the most famous actress to exist.”

How wonderful. The pressure she felt was not easing at all.

“I see.” Keqing sighed as she felt her eyelids grow heavier. “Give me a moment, please. I’m going to drop by the bathroom.”

“It’s to your left if you walk straight ahead into the hall.” Amber started to stand up from her seat. “Want me to go with you?”

Keqing regarded her quizzically. “Why would you?”

Amber blinked back, confused. “Uh. Never mind, then.” She plopped back down.

As Keqing walked away from her seat towards the bathroom, she wondered whether it was just Amber being kind and offering to go to the bathroom with her, or if it was another mortal norm that she wasn’t caught up with. Once she was in the bathroom, she made her way towards the sink and started splashing cold water onto her face, hoping it would wake her up.

But she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep holding off her sleepiness.

“Are you okay?”

Keqing opened her eyes, turning to her right to see Ganyu washing her hands. A wave of surprise passed through her body as the smell of the rose-scented soap lingered in the air. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi.” Ganyu smiled. “Didn’t get too much sleep last night?”

“Ah. No, I didn’t,” Keqing said, grabbing a few paper towels from the side and wiping at her wet face. She glanced at the mirror, where she was frightened to see streaks of black marks around her eyes. “Oh, right. I forgot about my makeup.”

Ganyu laughed as she reached into her bag. “Would you like makeup remover?”

“Yes, please.” Keqing waited until Ganyu handed her a few wipes. “Thank you.”

“I hope you’re having a good time today,” Ganyu said. A pause followed before she continued, “Is the food not to your liking?”

“The food?” Keqing wiped at her face, squinting through one eye to look at Ganyu.

“I noticed your plate was empty.”

Keqing tossed the wipes into the trash can. “I just wasn’t feeling too hungry.”

Ganyu looked at her worriedly. “It’s been a long day. I hope you can get something to eat later.”

Keqing washed her face once more to get the strange feeling of the wipes off her skin. Then she glanced at Ganyu, who still looked concerned. “Thanks, I will. Don’t worry too much.”

Ganyu stepped forward, pointing at her forehead. “Your bangs got messed up.”

Keqing reached up and looked at the mirror. Her bangs had gotten a little messy after wiping and washing her face, and the small braid was now undone. Nothing she could do about it since Ai had added that little braid for her earlier in the day. She did her most to fix her bangs, but she wasn’t going to be able to braid her hair again. “Alright, good enough.”

“No more of the braid?”

Keqing ran her fingers through her bangs as she sighed. “I don’t know how to. It was done for me by someone else.”

“Allow me to?” Ganyu asked, stepping closer.

Keqing took a small step back in surprise. “You want to?”

Ganyu stopped and arched a brow at her. “If you want me to.”

“Sure,” Keqing said, stepping forward once again until she was right in front of Ganyu. She felt Ganyu’s fingers work her way around her bangs, and Keqing didn’t know where to look. At Ganyu’s concentrated face, or awkwardly at the ground, or even the mirror. Or the white tiled walls of this bathroom.

“Done,” Ganyu said finally. “It’s simple, let me show you using my own hair.”

Ganyu demonstrated how to braid the locks at the bottom of her long hair, with the slow and gentle movements of her fingers. Keqing tried to follow each step on the other side of her bangs. It was after a couple attempts that she finally succeeded making the same pretty braid.

“That’s neat. Thanks.” Keqing swept her hair over her shoulder and yawned again. “I’m sorry I keep yawning. You’re not boring, I swear. Sleep just won’t stop calling my name.”

Right after she said those words, everything else seemed to happen too quickly. She found herself stumbling towards Ganyu as she felt her body forcing herself to succumb to sleep. She felt her body colliding into another—it had to be Ganyu catching her—right as the world went black.

And that was how, on her first day back as a mortal, the Goddess of Love passed out in a bathroom.

Chapter Text

“Rise and shine, Keqing.”

“Wait,” Keqing whispered, pulling the pillow up to cover her head. “Just twenty minutes.”

“How can you sleep after the big mess that you caused last night?” Ai asked, sighing loudly.

“What big mess? Every day in Celestia is always the same,” Keqing mumbled, waving a hand in the air. “Go away. Beauty sleep is real and important. It does not involve a loud bird waking me up so early in the morning.”

“You really don’t remember passing out in Ganyu’s arms last night?”

Keqing’s eyes flew open as she sat upright in her bed, unfazed as the pillow slipped off her head. It was all coming back to her now, the way she’d been learning how to braid her hair before falling right into Ganyu’s arms, with no control over it all.

“Tell me it was just a bad dream.”

“It wasn’t.” Ai sat on a chair on the other side of the bedroom, holding up a phone in the air. “We got one good thing out of it, though. Would you like to take a guess?”

Keqing looked at the phone clutched tightly in Ai’s hands. It was her phone. “I don’t know. Did you get a picture with Ganyu?”

“She added herself as a contact on your phone,” Ai said. “One good thing.”

The words bounced off Keqing’s ears as she processed everything. She slapped her cheeks with her hands. “How did I get out of the restaurant?”

“Apparently, she carried you on her back all the way out of the bathroom. There are pictures.”

“What? Let me see. Throw it.” Keqing raised her hands up in the air.

Ai did what she said, except the phone went spinning quickly in the air until it hit the wall far above Keqing’s hands. “Oh. Oops.”

The sound of it hitting the hard floor was loud. Loud enough to make Keqing wince. The two of them didn’t even budge from where they were for a good few seconds. “Ai. That didn’t sound too good.”

“Judging by the way it hit the floor face-down at that exact speed, the chances of it breaking its screen are great. We’re talking about a 95% chance.”

“You don’t have to calculate it for us to know the answer to that,” said Keqing as she slipped off her bed, treading towards her phone slowly. She turned it over, and sucked in a sharp breath when she saw the spider web of excessive cracks on the screen.

But despite the cracks, she could somewhat make out the picture of her being carried on Ganyu’s back. From what she could see, Ganyu’s hands were holding onto her thighs. Keqing stared for a good moment before she looked at her own face in the image, how her own chin was fitting snugly on Ganyu’s right shoulder.

“It’s a shame I was asleep for all of this,” Keqing said, sighing as she placed the phone on her bed. “But it’s so weird how people took pictures of it.”

“Considering Ganyu’s immense fame, it’s expected. Although, yes, mortal habits of taking pictures of everything appear to be strangely too prevalent in this modern day. We have to thank the internet for that.” Ai walked over to her bed and picked up the phone. “Hold on. Did you just say it was a shame that you were asleep?”

“Can you blame me? I’ve never been carried around on someone’s back like that before. I just figured it would’ve been nice to have been awake for my first ever experience.”

“Okay, Keqing.” Ai raised a brow. “We get it. Being carried by the actress you’re a really huge fan of must’ve made you starstruck. Completely understandable.”

Keqing ignored her and asked, “How’d she get me back here, though?”

“She got a hold of my number somehow and called me. She was waiting outside with you on a bench until I arrived with the chauffeur.” Ai shook her head. “I had to say you passed out because you have a condition that causes narcolepsy. She didn’t ask anything else after that. She’s too nice to be nosy.”

“Okay. Noted.” Keqing nodded, then paused. “She was waiting with me?”

Ai looked unimpressed with her. “I don’t think she’s the type of person who’d leave a person who’s dead-asleep alone on a bench.”

Keqing couldn’t resist the small smile that pulled at her lips. “That’s true. She’s just really sweet.”

Ai sighed. “You don’t seem too concerned about these pictures. But there’s a good chance the other gods in Celestia have already seen them.”

“This is nothing. It’s harmless,” said Keqing, and Ai gave her a look. “Trust me. We both know they can’t do much with this information. It’s just a picture. The most they’ll do is gossip among themselves.”

“Let’s hope that’s all that happens. If they were to find out that we were here on a matchmaking mission…”

“They won’t know, Ai. The gods visit the mortal realm all the time.” Keqing stretched her arms as she made her way towards the bathroom. “So what do I do with that cracked screen?”

“I will look into the possible options,” Ai said, closing her eyes.

Keqing assumed Ai was doing her own search query for answers. She stepped into the bathroom, and the first thing she did was splash some cold water onto her face. To somehow wake up from this, to see if it was all somehow a dream.

But the water droplets slid off her face, dripping onto the sink, and she was staring at her reflection in the mirror just the same. This was reality, and it meant she had to deal with the consequences of her actions. It was what she’d signed up for by entering the mortal realm again in the first place.

➵ ✩

Ai’s solution to the cracked phone screen was to go to a repair shop that was a five-minute walk from the apartment. Keqing didn’t care much for her phone, but she supposed it was necessary if she wanted to keep in touch with other people. Like Ganyu. Especially Ganyu. There was no point otherwise.

The worker inside the shop, who was a young man with tattoos covering both his exposed arms, stared with wide blue eyes as soon as he saw her. “Are you Keqing?”

Keqing furrowed her brows. “Why do you ask?”

He fumbled for his phone, pulling up the same image she’d seen earlier of her being carried on Ganyu’s back. “This has been the top trending topic all day today.”

“That is a fantastic picture. But I’m very sorry to say that I’m not Keqing,” she said, shaking her head as she glanced away from the screen. The pictures on the wall of a new phone being advertised seemed way more interesting. “That’s my twin sister that you’re seeing there.”

Ai sighed from the side, covering her face with a hand. Rude. It seemed her assistant wasn’t in the mood to help her get out of this situation.

He made a noise of understanding. “Oh, got it. You have a twin sister with the same hairstyle?”

Keqing assumed he was calling out the cat-ear buns on her head. She was giving him the most ridiculous excuses, yes, but he also seemed to be buying it perfectly. Which was even more ridiculous. “Yes, and what of it?”

A look of realization dawned upon his face. “I see. So, is she dating Ganyu?” he asked, and Keqing felt a twinge of annoyance.

“She isn’t,” she said, taking her phone out of her bag and sliding it across the black counter. “Anyway. I came here to see if I could get the phone screen fixed. It’s cracked.”

He peered closer at it, finally focusing on the actual problem at hand. “Okay, that won’t be a problem. We can get that done for you. You’ll just have to come back in a couple hours and it’ll be ready.”

That was manageable, as she had the time to spare today. She wasn’t in any of the scenes they were filming between Ganyu and Shenhe, so there was no need to go on the set. Although, it was a bit of a shame that she wouldn’t be able to see Ganyu today.

Despite the good amount of time that they spent together yesterday, she hadn’t been able to get to know Ganyu all that much to gather anything useful for her mission. Interacting with other people was hard. It was a rusty skill that she had to refine again after spending years of only communicating with her bird assistant.

An accurate term would actually now be human assistant. Ai was currently entranced by a big screen outside of the building that showcased a woman advertising some type of air conditioner. Or, maybe it wasn’t the woman that Ai was focusing on, but the blue bird that sat on her shoulder.

“Did this bird catch your eye?” Keqing asked, coming to stand next to her.

“That bird has cool wings. There’s a streak of gold across each of them.” Ai glanced down at her arms, then back at the screen. “Perhaps that will be a nice change for myself when we return to Celestia.”

“Missing home already?”

“I miss singing with my bird friends,” Ai responded, sighing as they walked past all kinds of shops that lined the street ahead of them. “Don’t you miss home?”

Keqing shrugged as she glanced around, taking in the sight of all the bright flashing billboards and advertisements hanging off the tall buildings. “I don’t mind it too much here. It was once my home too, after all.”

“It was, but that was…” Ai lowered her voice, continuing, “Thousands of years ago, literally speaking.”

“I know. The air here is different, for sure.” Keqing stopped as she walked, her attention focusing on a peach juice bottle that was displayed behind the window of a store. “Hold on, Ai. Let’s go in here.”

“A convenience store?” Ai asked, confused. “I don’t know, Keqing. You might get recognized again. Have you also noticed how everyone walking among us has been staring at you and taking pictures?”

Keqing hadn’t noticed. She didn’t look at others as she walked. But now that Ai mentioned it, she was startled to observe it all. People from across the street were openly gawking at her, some of them whispering to each other, while others weren’t being sneaky at all about taking pictures of her with their phones.

Was she supposed to pose? Keqing stared right at the phones aimed at her and gave them all a thumbs-up with a big smile.

“What are you doing?” Ai whispered, sounded panicked as she lowered her hand. “You’re only going to create more talk for yourself. Let’s use our brains here, Keqing.”

“I guess being carried by Ganyu is a huge deal,” Keqing said, stifling a laugh as she pointed at the doors of the store. “But I’m still going in. That isn’t going to stop me.”

“What could you possibly need here?” Ai asked, following closely behind her. “You know, maybe we need some shades. Or even hats. You’re being recognized far too much.”

“Whatever they think doesn’t matter much to me,” Keqing replied, eyeing the many aisles that were laid out in front of her. She walked towards the end of the store where the refrigerated section was, labeled “Beverages” in big, glowing white letters. “Let them take all the pictures they’d like. It’d be their one and only chance to see a goddess in the flesh.”

Ai sighed loudly. “You’ll just give us away if you keep talking like that.”

Keqing stopped in front of the peach juice she saw earlier. It came in the same peach-shaped bottle, and there was an image of Ganyu wearing a blue bikini on the front of it. She pulled open the fridge and reached to grab two of the bottles. From behind her, she could hear Ai starting to laugh. Human laughter this time, thankfully. No more of the weird human-bird-hybrid laughter.

“This is what we came in here for?”

“It’s a hot day today,” Keqing answered, smiling innocently. “I wanted to have a nice refreshing drink.”

“This is the drink that you saw Ganyu advertising just yesterday on that billboard,” Ai answered, amused as she caught one of the drinks that Keqing tossed to her. “An interesting choice. Makes sense, though. You’re truly living up to the massive fan title here.”

“I’m not,” Keqing replied, her eyes widening as she watched the fridge door start to close. She had to jump out of the way quickly to not get hit by how it suddenly closed shut. She turned around to give Ai a look. “I was just interested to see what peach juice would taste like. We don’t have those up there. Did you also just see how this door tried to attack me?”

“The door was just doing what it’s meant to do. There’s another peach juice right here,” Ai said, pointing at a drink that was right next to the Ganyu-sponsored one. “Why not this one?”

“Because it doesn’t have Ganyu on it.”

“Does a drink need to have Ganyu on it to taste better?” Ai asked, a grin starting to appear on her face.

“If Ganyu’s sponsoring this drink, I’m going to assume that it tastes good. Better than the other one,” Keqing said as she started to walk towards where they paid. At least, she assumed it was where they paid, since that was where the other customers were walking with their baskets.

Ai quickly sped past her, taking the bottle out of her hands. “I’ll go to the checkout. You don’t need more people talking about you buying Ganyu’s sponsored juice.”

“Let them talk about it,” Keqing replied, snatching it back. “I’m not ashamed.”

Ai grabbed it again, hiding it behind her back. “What would Ganyu think of you?”

“Highly of me, I’m sure, for choosing a proper peach drink.” Keqing took both their bottles once and for all, and she walked proudly to what Ai had referred to as the checkout corner.

The teenage worker did not say anything about Ganyu to her, despite looking between the peach drink and her multiple times. The only words said were, “Would you like to grab one more? There’s a deal where if you buy two, you get one free.”

Keqing clapped her hands together. “How delightful. Yes, I will. Just one moment.”

When she was coming back with a third drink, she got a disapproving look from Ai. She ignored it and took out her credit card (a gift from Morax), all while excitedly imagining what the drink would taste like.

“Enjoy!” the employee said, smiling widely as she pointed at the bottles. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s a special surprise stuck to the back of these if you look underneath the label.”

“Thanks for letting us know,” Ai replied curtly as she steered Keqing out of the store.

“What surprise, I wonder?” Keqing walked forward until Ai stopped them in front of a bench to sit. There was a large tree with branches hanging low enough to hide them from the gazes of people walking by.

“A photocard.” Ai pointed to the front of the bottle. “It says it right there.”

“A photocard,” Keqing repeated, turning the bottle around to look at the back. The label was wide, and beneath it, there seemed to be an item enclosed in a wrapping. “Does that mean it’s a picture of Ganyu?”

“Yes. According to various sources online, there are five different photocards you can obtain from one of these drinks. While three of them have a common rarity, the other two are exceedingly hard to get. They’re termed as legendary.”

“That’s pretty neat, actually.” Keqing then looked at the top of the round bottle, where there was a pink cap that was in the shape of a tiny peach. “So… I assume we twist this just like how people open their water bottles?”

“It appears to be so,” Ai answered, demonstrating the action using her own bottle. “There we go.”

Keqing mimicked her, twisting her hand around the cap. “This kind of hurts. It’s stuck on tight. I think it’s the strange peach shape of the cap that’s making it difficult.”

“To reap worthy benefits, some amounts of pain and suffering are always necessary.”

Keqing ignored Ai and continued with her hard efforts of opening the bottle, right until there was finally a satisfying cracking sound of it finally working. “See? I’m learning.”

“Congratulations are in order.” Ai watched longingly as Keqing took her first sip. “Since I can’t drink anything, enjoy that juice for the both of us. Is it as good as you hoped?”

Keqing wasn’t prepared for how sweet it was going to be, but it was just as refreshing as she wished for it to be. It tasted peachy for sure, although a little more on the artificial side. “It’s pretty good.”

“You sound like you didn’t like it.”

“I like it, it’s a decent taste.” Keqing turned the bottle around and tore at the label, revealing the wrapped photocard. “You’re going to have to tell me if this one is legendary or not.”

Ai looked at her curiously. “Does it matter?”

“Very much.” Keqing pulled it out and ripped the top of the wrapping, tilting it until the photocard slipped onto the bench. She held it up in the air between them.

It was a sparkly picture of Ganyu posing with a rainbow beach ball, her hands making the V-shape with two fingers that mortals often did in pictures. Her eyes were closed as she smiled widely.

“When comparing it to the data I have for the cards’ rarities, that one is considered one of the common cards.”

Keqing flipped the photocard around, and there was fancy writing with a heart. Although it looked like an elaborate line of scribbles, she could tell that it was supposed to be Ganyu’s signature.

“Let’s open your bottle,” Keqing said, extending a hand towards Ai. “And the third bottle too. Can you get that one from your bag?”

“I don’t see this ending very well,” Ai replied, eyeing her nervously as she gave Keqing the two bottles. “Are you going to try collecting these?”

“No, what are you talking about? I’m just checking to see which cards I got.” Keqing turned both bottles around and took out the wrapped photocards. She handed one of them to Ai. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Ai tore away the top at the same time she did. “This one is another common card, but it’s a different one. So that’s good.”

Keqing stared at the new card that she’d just revealed. It was Ganyu sitting on top of a rock by the beach, winking as she sipped from the peach bottle. Her long legs were crossed, and Keqing found herself staring before she cleared her throat and showed Ai the photocard. “What about this one?”

“Common.” Ai tilted the card she had towards Keqing. “Mine is the same one as that. You’re still missing one common card, and two legendary ones.”

“The probability of finding one of the two legendary cards is?”

“Nearly a 5% chance.”

“Okay.” Keqing tucked the photocards away into her bag and stood up. “That’s not too terrible.”

Ai eyed her suspiciously. “Are you going to try to get them? This isn’t part of your mission here.”

“You know how I love collecting items.”

“Will this help you in your mission of purifying your matchmaking record?”

“Yes,” Keqing said as she walked back into the convenience store. “I don’t know how, but yes, it is very important.”

“Keqing…” Ai sighed in defeat as she followed inside. “Let’s really get you some shades to wear this time, though.”

➵ ✩

When they made it back into the apartment, they had seven bags full of peach juice. And a newly fixed phone screen. The chauffeur had raised a brow but he hadn’t said anything, which was much to Keqing’s relief. After buying fifty bottles (they bought out the entire store’s stock), Keqing proudly came home with all three of Ganyu’s common photocards, and even one legendary.

The legendary card was even produced differently than the common ones. A slightly thicker, glossier photocard. The one that she found was of a starry night sky at the beach, where Ganyu looked back with one hand extended towards the camera with an inviting smile. The card was made so that when you tilted the card, different stars in the sky would look like they were glittering.

But she was still missing the other legendary card. Ai told her that it would be a futile endeavor, one that would just lead to tons of Mora wasted. So Keqing reluctantly agreed, remembering that it was just a piece of paper that wouldn’t be serving her mission.

When she was back in her room, Keqing took out her phone for the first time in hours to see that she had quite a few messages. One was from Morax, who was wondering if she was alright after last night. Out of all the people, it would be him who would understand the reason for why she passed out so suddenly.

There were also a few other texts from Ganyu, who saved her name on Keqing’s phone as “Ganyu (From Live for Me).” It got a small laugh out of her when she saw it. Because, of course, the distinction was important. Which other famous celebrity named Ganyu, her whole reason for traveling to the mortal realm, did she know?

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
Keqing,
Hope you got some very nice rest. After all that yawning yesterday, I was worried for you!
Please let me know how you’re feeling today.

Typing on one of these phones was harder than she thought. It took her about twenty seconds to figure out how to even type “hello,” which Keqing thought was quite ridiculous. She kept accidentally touching the other letters on the keyboard, creating a word that looked entirely different. So instead of typing out a reply, she tapped on one of the green icons at the top of the chat bar, assuming she could record an audio message this way. If that was even a feature.

But the phone started to ring loudly, and what was worse was the fact that her camera was capturing her face in live time. It had to be a video call, one that she wasn’t even trying to make. Keqing’s fingers hovered around the screen until she found the big red icon at the bottom, assuming it was the one to hang up the call.

Before she could even touch it, Ganyu’s face appeared, filling up her entire screen. “Hello?”

Keqing dropped her phone in surprise, and it clattered loudly in the silence. She picked it back up, noting that the screen thankfully remained uncracked, and her hands slightly shook as she said, “Hi. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that I would end up video calling you. It was a total accident.”

“Oh?” Ganyu laughed, and Keqing could see her walking into a different room. “That’s okay. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, thanks. I’m sorry for causing you such trouble last night,” Keqing said, her eyes catching on the small glimpse of Ganyu’s shirt today, which appeared to be a loose white blouse with a small pink ribbon at the top. “You must be on the set right now. I’ll end the call now.”

“Wait,” Ganyu said quickly, her eyes growing wide. “I’m on break right now, it’s okay.”

“Oh.” Keqing paused, not sure what to ask next. Would it be awkward to suddenly ask what kind of lover Ganyu was interested in? Most definitely. “Have you seen the picture that everyone’s been talking about?”

Ganyu sighed. “I have. I’m sorry if it’s given you a headache. Things can get so out of hand.”

“It’s honestly completely fine. I don’t really mind.” Keqing looked at the other side of her bedroom, where a black jacket was hung on a chair. “You left your jacket here, by the way. I can give it to you in a few days when I’m back on the set.”

“Sure, no problem.” Ganyu looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Your manager is pretty funny.”

Keqing braced herself for whatever was coming next. “Did Ai say anything weird?”

“I wouldn’t say it was weird,” Ganyu replied, a slight smile on her face. “She’s very talkative.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound too good. Did she ask anything?”

“She asked why I was still single.” Ganyu raised her brows. “And many questions about what I looked for in a partner.”

Keqing was surprised that Ai had talked about this and not told her yet. “I must apologize for her overbearing curiosity. She can be a lot to handle.”

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t mind it too much.” The view shifted as Ganyu set the phone down and sat back on the couch. She sipped from her water bottle as she asked, “Did you get some good sleep?”

Keqing plastered on a smile. “I wish.”

Ganyu frowned. “Would you like me to introduce you to a good sleep doctor I know?”

“I’m fine, but thank you for the offer. How’s the filming going today?”

Ganyu waved her script in the air. “It’s going smoothly so far, I got some scenes with Shenhe done today.”

“I’m sure you did great with those scenes.”

“You’re too sweet. You’ve been quite the talk on the set today. People are worried about you.” Ganyu’s brows raised. “Especially Amber.”

“Oh, Amber. Could you let her know I’m okay? I don’t have her number.”

“That’s not a problem, I can let her know.”

At that moment, the door to Keqing’s room swung open as Ai strode in, shaking something in the air. “We got it! The other legendary Ganyu photocard!”

Keqing glanced back at her phone with a panic-stricken expression. Ganyu looked amused, which was just absolutely embarrassing. After saying a quick, “Bye, Ganyu,” she rapidly tapped the red icon at the bottom of the screen, hoping this was the right button, and Ganyu’s face disappeared.

“You were calling her?” Ai asked, lowering her hand to her side.

“I was,” Keqing said, her face starting to heat up as she turned her phone facing down on her bed. “I wonder what she’s going to think of that.”

“I’m sure she’d be flattered,” Ai said, laughing as she dropped the photocard into Keqing’s hands. “There it is. The last one to complete your collection.”

“She’s going to think I’m some kind of obsessed fan.”

“Well, are you not?”

“I am not, thank you very much.” Keqing sighed as she held up the photocard closer to her face.

This was the last legendary one she had to collect, the one that caused such embarrassment. Ganyu smiled at her through the card, making a heart-shaped sign with her hands as she posed in front of a lighthouse in a black polka-dot bikini. While Ganyu was smiling at her, Keqing felt like she was crying in pain on the inside.

“You know what, this is okay. I can recover from this,” Keqing said as she set the photocard down next to her phone. “I’ll just say you’re the big fan who wanted to collect these.”

Ai’s brows furrowed. “Why do you always project onto me?”

“Because it’s humiliating if it’s me.”

“Who said a goddess couldn’t be the fan of a beautiful actress?” Ai asked, her cheeks dimpling as she grinned. At this, Keqing prepared herself for whatever nonsense Ai was about to say next. “It’s okay to have a small crush on your favorite actress.”

“A small crush,” Keqing repeated, bewildered. “What are you saying?”

“I think your little obsession is running a little deeper than you let on,” Ai said with a straight face. “It’s okay to have such feelings. Really, Keqing. You’re the Goddess of Love. I understand now that you have a preference for women. Why do you look so surprised?”

Keqing rubbed at her temples. “Ai. This is not a crush. I would know, thank you very much. As you said, I’m the Goddess of Love. And about the preference for women… Does that matter so much?”

It wasn’t news to Keqing, but she supposed Ai had no reason to know until now. Keqing had always known about her attraction to women, ever since her years long ago as a mortal. She remembered a certain habit of hers of taking the long way home after work to get a glimpse of a beautiful lady who’d always be sitting on the same table outside of a restaurant every night. She’d always been too much of a coward to make the first move back then in her mortal state.

“No, it’s just good to know. All these years as your assistant, and I never knew. But some self-reflection on your part would be beneficial.” Ai crossed her arms and looked unconvinced. Keqing wasn’t about to waste time trying to argue. “But you won’t get carried away, right? We both know…”

The Heavenly Principles. They both knew very well. Keqing sighed. “No need to remind me, Ai. I do not love Ganyu, and I will not be loving her anytime soon.”

“I know, but…”

“I heard from Ganyu that you talked to her about some very important things,” Keqing said, in an attempt to change the topic.

It worked, judging by how Ai’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I did talk to her a great deal last night. But the thing is, she didn’t say anything valuable, really. Which makes sense since we’re basically strangers.”

“Nothing valuable at all? Honestly, I’m surprised she even answered your questions.”

Ai huffed. “Listen. I am an outstanding conversationalist.”

Keqing couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Okay, sure. What did she say?”

“Let me recall the contents of our conversation last night.” Ai cleared her throat. “Ah, yes. When I asked why she was still single, she said she herself didn’t know. That she hadn’t found the perfect connection with the right person.”

Keqing nodded. “Alright, that’s a pretty common theme we hear often in the prayers we get.”

“Yes, and then I asked what kind of hair color she’d like her partner to have.”

Keqing looked at her ridiculously. “Ai, what kind of question is that?”

“A very good question. Did you know that in a poll given to 100,000 people, approximately 50% of them said that their partner’s appearance played a big role in their initial attraction? Hair color is a part of that.”

“Okay, well the other 50% said it wasn’t that important. I honestly doubt that Ganyu would be that superficial,” Keqing said as she thought back to the videos she’d seen in the past. “She’s very sweet. I think she’d focus more on someone’s personality.”

“Hm. Is that so?” Ai grinned at her again. “And you know this because you’re Ganyu’s massive fan.”

Keqing sighed. “Enough. What else did you ask her? Anything normal?”

With a huff and the slight tilt of her chin, Ai answered, “I asked her all very normal questions. But just in case you were wondering, she said she didn’t have a hair color preference. You were right. She said she thought personality was more important than looks.”

“And what kind of personality would that be?”

“She didn’t give us much to work with there. Hardworking, loyal, considerate, and kind. Kindness is the big thing for her, she said.”

“Okay. Those are the traits we’ll have to be on the lookout for, then.” Keqing glanced at the calendar that was hanging next to the window above her bed. “It shouldn't be too hard to find.”

“I think it’ll be quite hard without the use of our Infinity System back home,” Ai said, shaking her head.

“I appreciate the optimism, Ai.” Keqing grasped her phone again, deciding to respond to Morax. “Could you use your quick fingers to type out a reply? I’m not used to this texting thing yet.”

Ai sighed and held out a hand. “Alright, let’s see. Who’s it for? Ganyu?”

“Morax. Just tell him that I’m doing fine.”

“He was wondering? That’s kind of him.” Ai’s fingers started flying across the phone screen. “I don’t think he’s as bad as you make him out to be.”

“When I think about it, he’s really not. He just gets his words across the wrong way sometimes.”

“Despite it all, he’s looking out for us.” Ai rubbed her fingers together in the air. “We have his money to use, after all.”

“Remember when he was broke?” Keqing laughed at the thought of the past. “He’s come a long way.”

“He has.” Ai handed the phone back to her. “What are the plans for tomorrow?”

“We’ll try to find a match for Ganyu,” Keqing answered. “Somehow.”

Ai shook her head as she started to leave the room. “You know, maybe we were better off in Celestia just ignoring this failed matchmaking.”

Keqing scrunched up her nose. “What? No. Ai, that’s a terrible way of looking at things.”

“It’s okay. I believe in us.” Ai turned around and saluted her. “We can do this. We’ll find a match for Ganyu.”

“We will.” Keqing saluted her back.

Somehow, she would. In whatever ways that were possible.

Later that night, she got a text from Ganyu (From “Live for Me”) that read: If you were collecting my photocards from that peach juice advertisement, you could’ve just said so. I have the ones they gave me.

Keqing died a little inside from embarrassment.

➵ ✩

WHO IS THE NEW GIRL GANYU WAS CAUGHT CARRYING IN VIRAL IMAGES?

If you haven’t been away from the internet recently, you’ve heard about the hot news on the street regarding Award-winning actress Ganyu, who caught attention when she went on ten dates in the span of a mere two weeks. All with different people! It was quite the shocker for many, especially considering Ganyu’s clean dating record and her lack of scandals. But this time, she quickly became a top hit on the trending page when pictures captured her carrying someone on her back.

While it may seem like no big deal to some, it was to her many fans and the curious eyes of the internet. Luckily for you, we have a picture that you can see below.

Ganyu’s fans had some interesting things to say. Read fans’ responses here:

Ganyu smiled at me twice and I’m still recovering (@ganyusfavorite):
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the literal fact that Ganyu—GANYU—carried someone piggyback style. And went viral for it. When is it my turn to be carried by Ganyu? Archons, please listen to my requests.

are you watching ganyu’s new movie? (@happyhappyganyu):
okay everyone. this is not a drill. WE NEED TO SEE MORE IMAGES OF GANYU WITH THIS GIRL !! because they look so good together. i’m basing this off of a few pictures, yes, but it’s still so valid. i can’t wait to see them interact in the movie!!

Just a humble egg (@eggyolkishealthy):
I haven’t kept up with Ganyu as much recently, but these new pictures being posted everywhere are super cute. Something very soft about how this Keqing person has her chin resting perfectly on Ganyu’s shoulder. Why haven’t I seen anyone talking about the way Ganyu put her favorite jacket around Keqing’s waist? I’m assuming it’s to cover her throughout the piggyback ride, whether she was wearing a skirt before or some shorts. But it’s cute. As always, Ganyu is a gentlewoman.

crying in the bathroom (@ganyuiloveyouverymuch):
i keep refreshing my page to see if any new images pop up. wiping my tears as i wish i had purple hair with buns that looked like cat ears so i’d be able to get ganyu’s attention and then be swept up and carried on her back. IN FRONT OF A WHOLE ROOM OF PEOPLE?! what can i do to experience this?

While fans praised Ganyu’s consideration and kindness in such an act, who is this mysterious girl, you may wonder?

Reputable sources say this is Keqing, a rookie actress who recently joined the team for the upcoming movie Live for Me. While rumors spread about the circumstances that allowed such a rookie actress to play a role in a highly-anticipated movie, it all remains a mystery. Unverified sources claim that Keqing must’ve had connections with those higher-up in the company to get such a position, but this remains unproven.

Keqing is believed to be in her late twenties. She graduated from Mingyun University—one of Liyue’s top universities—majoring in film. The mystery surrounding her has not eased, considering the fact that this rookie actress doesn’t have much information about her online. No social media presence, either, which has made fans even more curious.

In response to the viral images, members of Ganyu’s PR team made a public announcement. You can read it here. Supposedly, Keqing randomly fell asleep and Ganyu was carrying her to get her to safety. They denied the rumors that there was something going on between the two actresses.

Stay tuned for more updates.

Chapter Text

The next few days when Keqing wasn’t needed on the set, she spent her time trying to get whatever information she could get about Ganyu’s social circle. If her theory about having to match Ganyu with someone she knew personally was correct, this would be a useful start. After a quick search online, she found a few names of people Ganyu was seen in pictures with.

One was Beidou, who Keqing recognized as the one that sent in the prayer a while back, the one who started it all. Another was Ningguang, a famous model who was married to Beidou, judging from various websites she came across labeling them as the “cutest wives to ever exist in the history of Teyvat.” Shenhe also appeared in many pictures, and so did Yae Miko—which raised Keqing’s eyebrows—but that was about it. Ganyu didn’t seem to have many close friends. At least, to the public, which didn’t give her much to work with.

Yae was out of the question, without a doubt. From what Keqing knew, the pink-haired immortal grew in fame over the past few decades as an internet personality—growing in popularity after posting about her immortal girlfriend, Beelzebul, the Goddess of Eternity herself. She was a rare kind of god, having revealed her mortal form to the humans many years ago when she was the Raiden Shogun. But she had also cut off ties with Celestia for centuries now. Keqing was just surprised that Yae hadn’t asked for her hand in marriage yet.

What was more surprising to her was that Ganyu was friends with Yae. It was hard to imagine Yae’s sly personality molding well with Ganyu’s. She couldn’t even imagine the two of them having a civil conversation where Yae wasn’t speaking in her own cryptic ways. But Keqing supposed it was all about balancing each other out.

This simple mission was already turning out to be a headache.

“Are you ready?” Ai asked, grinning as she pulled a blue suitcase along the ground of the airport. “It’s our very first plane trip. I wonder if we’ll get motion sickness.”

“I think it should be fine. I’m just dreading having to see Ganyu again,” Keqing said, sighing as she stopped in front of their gate. “I really…”

“You’re still going on about this?” Ai patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, Keqing. Sometimes we must sacrifice our pride for the greater mission. I’m sure she already forgot about you collecting those bikini photocards.”

“Your reassurance is not very assuring,” Keqing replied, swatting Ai’s hand off her shoulder. “I still haven’t looked at the new script yet. They’re saying it was all changed based on the director’s wishes.”

“Does it affect your scenes directly?”

“That’s what I was told.” Keqing glanced at the top of the gate, where a screen displayed the destination: Wuwang Hill. “I don’t understand why they’re flying us out there. Isn’t that place haunted?”

“People nowadays don’t consider it haunted. It’s a popular camping destination noted for its unique atmosphere, especially after it became well-known after a thriller movie released approximately fifty years ago.”

Keqing could still clearly recall how the woods had last looked to her. She’d spent a mere ten minutes passing though it long ago, and that was enough to sense how creepy it was. With all those tall trees at night shrouded by fog in pitch darkness, she couldn’t fathom why people would want to take a camping trip there. Mortals were braver than she expected.

But perhaps it had gotten less eerie over the years with the invention of modern technology and improved lighting systems. A well-lit path would be enough to change the scene, even a little bit.

Getting on a plane for the first time ever was a strange experience. There were lines everywhere to get past the gates, to get on the plane, to get seated in their seats. Patience was unfortunately not one of the skills she had developed throughout her years of godhood. She tapped her feet impatiently on the ground during it all, even contemplating at one point if she’d be able to skip all the lines if she came forth and admitted that she was a goddess.

But she held back the urge, and they made it past the long waiting times, shuffling into their seats, at last. Far up in many rows ahead of them sat Ganyu, which was obvious since her black horns were sticking out above the seat. Ai, being the nosy assistant that she was, tried to stand up and peek at whatever Ganyu was up to. Keqing had to quickly yank her back into her seat every time. She was still embarrassed to face Ganyu after the whole photocard nonsense.

But nothing could beat the way she felt when she saw the script.

The script she held in her hands had her staring in surprise for a good few minutes, rubbing her eyes and all to make sure what she was seeing was correct. It was clear that the director wanted to use the viral talk about their pictures towards some greater goals—particularly money and fame. And it was seen in these new scenes she shared with Ganyu.

One of these scenes included a brief kiss between her and Ganyu. She read the lines over and over, and it only made her brows furrow more each time. It sounded ridiculous, how Ganyu was supposed to be heartbroken after finding out her lover was to be wedded to another, and now she was finding comfort through abruptly kissing her best friend. It made no sense considering Ganyu’s character up until now. Proper character development was thrown into the trash for the sake of earning more publicity.

Keqing set aside the script and covered her face with her hands. “Ai… This is about to be a mess.”

Ai picked up the script. “What is it? Let me see.” A brief pause followed. “Oh.”

“Is it too late to back out of this role right now?” Keqing asked, peeking at Ai through the space between her fingers.

“Yes, Keqing.” Ai set the script down in front of her. “Won’t this be your first ever kiss?”

Keqing covered her eyes once more. “What are you talking about?”

“Unless you kissed someone in your mortal state before you ascended to Celestia.”

Keqing sighed. As a mortal, she’d spent most of her time matchmaking others in her town, but she’d never been lucky enough to find love for herself. “You know what? It’s fine. It’s just a kiss.”

“Coming from you,” Ai said, lowering her voice, “we know it’s bigger than that. Maybe we could ask the director to alter the scene. Send in a body double for the kiss.”

Keqing shook her head. “No, no. I won’t make a big deal out of this. I can do this. It’s just a kiss.”

“Now you’re just making it a challenge.” Ai shook her head. “Are you sure about this?”

“It’ll be fine, Ai.” Keqing picked up the script again and took a deep breath. “This should be a breeze.”

“I don’t think it will be.”

“Thanks, Ai. I always appreciate your endless support.” Keqing yawned, then rested her head back. “I’m going to catch up on sleep to counter the energy drain.”

“Please do. Sleep well,” Ai replied. “I’ll stay on guard.”

➵ ✩

Wuwang Hill was just as she was still imagining it to be. Tall pine trees stood over them, obscuring the path of the moonlight, and while there were street lamps, there were not many. Even the staff seemed wary coming in here, looking around with fear in their eyes as they got the set ready.

After Amber got her ready for the day with her black wig and a simple outfit—a loose blue shirt and comfortable pants for the woods—she was able to join the rest of the crew. Seeing Ganyu for the first time after that phone call was, however, not as bad as she was dreading it to be. Ganyu made no mention of the photocards, much to Keqing’s relief, and she instead asked about the script.

“I could try to talk to Director Wu to see if we could remove the kiss from the script,” Ganyu said as they stood huddled close under a lamp. Their heads were down, looking at the paper in her hands. “I know it’s really random, considering the nature of the past scenes we’ve filmed. It’s most likely in reaction to the pictures of us.”

“I figured.” Keqing glanced up, flinching when her head bumped against one of Ganyu’s horns. “I’m sorry. Are you hurt?”

“I’m completely fine. Are you okay?” Ganyu looked at her worriedly. “My horns are pretty pointy.”

“I’m fine,” Keqing said, which was somewhat of a lie because the horn had indeed been pointy. But it wasn’t the worst pain that she’d ever felt. “But the scene is fine with me, really. If you want it out of the script, that’s okay too.”

Ganyu’s brows furrowed. “It’s fine for me because I’m used to these things. But for you… It’s your first ever gig.”

It would be her first and last. “I’m okay with it too, Ganyu. Really.”

“Just let me know whenever, if you change your mind.” Ganyu flipped through the pages of the script. “That scene should be filmed later today. Before that, we’ll have a scene where we meet a couple other friends who came along to join us on the camping trip.”

“Right. They’re played by Aether and Lumine, right? The twins?”

Ganyu’s eyes lit up. “That’s right. Have you ever met them?”

Keqing shook her head. “I’ve only ever heard of them.” Heard of them, as in she’d received a brief report from Ai about who they were, just a few hours ago on the plane. They were blonde twin actors in their twenties that rose in fame by starring in a long list of films together, but they’d also been neighbors with Ganyu as they grew up.

“They’re great to work with. You’ll love them, for sure.”

“I look forward to it.” Keqing caught some movement in the corner of her eye, and she found a group of staff sitting around a campfire. A few of them had wide-eyed, fearful expressions on their faces. “I wonder if they’re telling each other scary stories.”

“I think they are.” Ganyu looked at the crowd and smiled. “Do you get scared easily?”

“No.” Keqing glanced at her. “I assume you don’t, as well?”

“I don’t. Is this an assumption you make because of my immortality?”

Keqing nodded. “After so many years, I’m not sure much could faze you.” It was something she could say for herself and many other gods.

“I suppose that’s true.” Ganyu tilted her head. “But I will say that despite all this time, the fear of losing loved ones has never gone away.”

The words bounced inside her mind. The fear of losing loved ones. If this was whatever feeling residing in Ganyu’s heart that was making her resist the effects of the arrows… Keqing wasn’t sure how she would ever be able to counter such a fear.

Did the answer truly lie in choosing another immortal as a lover for Ganyu?

“Sorry, did I make things a little too heavy?” Ganyu laughed and pointed towards the campfire. “Let’s go hear the stories they’re scared about.”

“But that’s a valid fear that you have, and I’m sure it hasn’t gotten any easier with time. I wish you didn’t have to deal with loss that frequently,” Keqing said, which earned her a small smile from Ganyu.

She followed after Ganyu, inwardly sighing as she realized her mission was about to get about a hundred times harder. As they approached the others sitting around the campfire, she began to hear the stories they were telling in hushed whispers.

“Some say that they see the ghost at random times during the night, but it’s always at the 33-minute mark.”

“You’re supposed to bring three candles out into the woods and blow them out, right after you sing a lullaby to try and summon her.”

“I’ve heard that you can hear her cries at night.”

“No way. It’s probably some animal making noises.”

The whispers grew to a stop as they saw Ganyu approaching. Keqing saw Amber sitting along the bench with Chongyun. The two of them waved her over.

“Ganyu,” Chongyun said, his ice-blue eyes big and round. “Have you heard of the ghost that lives around here?”

“I’m just now hearing of this,” Ganyu answered, sitting down on one of the empty benches. She gestured for Keqing to take a seat next to her. “What exactly is this story?”

Keqing sat down, noting how everyone seemed to look between her and Ganyu. She was fascinated by their own interest towards her. Did getting carried by another only happen between couples? It was amusing how it was considered such a big deal. Or maybe it was blown out of proportion because of Ganyu’s status. That was most likely it.

Chongyun explained, “It’s an urban legend. But basically, the rumor is that some kind of ghost lives around this forest. If you’re unlucky, you might be able to hear her cries at night.”

Keqing tilted her head. “Why would that be unlucky?”

She got a few weird looks in response.

“It’s unlucky for you because rumors say that people disappear,” Chongyun said, chuckling nervously. “She lures you in with the crying and then takes you away.”

A gasp rounded out around the small crowd. “To where?”

“They say she has a cave somewhere in this forest. No one’s been able to find it, so who knows what’s inside.”

It sounded like complete nonsense. Keqing asked, “How do we know there’s a cave if nobody’s ever seen it?”

“These are all just rumors, so who knows.” Chongyun shrugged as he shivered. “Did anyone else feel that?”

“Stop that.” A boy next to him rolled his eyes. “You’re just going to freak us out.”

Keqing looked up at the night sky, which was covered by the leaves from the long tree branches. There was a black bird flying by, cawing as it passed by with a few other birds following it. Ghosts did not scare her, but she found the atmosphere here unsettling.

“Still not scared?” Ganyu asked quietly, leaning towards her.

Keqing gave her a single shake of her head. “Not at all. Are you?”

“Nope.” Ganyu sighed as she rubbed her bare arms. “It is getting a little chilly here, though. I guess since it’s more up north than where we normally film.”

Keqing glanced down at her white jacket, which Ai had given her before dropping her off at the set. “Do you want this?”

“No, it’s yours. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure it’ll be better soon once we start filming.”

“I left your jacket at the hotel,” Keqing said, giving her an apologetic look. “I’ll give it back to you the next time I see you.”

“That’s not a problem.” Ganyu gave her a warm smile, which was emphasized by the glow of the campfire lighting up the side of her face.

Keqing found herself smiling back. With some time left until filming started, she sat with Ganyu as the rest of the staff started discussing other trivial matters. One of such was a debate about whether some kind of rainbow-colored candy each had different tastes or whether they all tasted the same. Keqing only sat in confusion as the rest of them bickered about this issue.

When everyone asked Ganyu for her wisdom, she only shrugged with a laugh. “I haven’t had that candy in years, so I’m not really able to remember.”

Then the discussion shifted to which candy was the best to ever exist, and Keqing found herself dozing off. Ganyu poked her shoulder at one point, which got her to startle awake.

“I’m usually the one to fall asleep on the set,” Ganyu said, her eyes full of amusement. “You’re about to take that title for yourself.”

“Oh, it’s because I didn’t get too much sleep last night.” Keqing averted her gaze towards the campfire, feeling her face start to heat up from the warmth. It was embarrassing how she kept showing these vulnerable sides of her to Ganyu.

“Again?” Ganyu frowned, worry creasing her brows.

“Usual occurrence.” Keqing yawned once more, but paused when she heard a faint noise coming from a distance. She turned her head towards it. “Did you hear that?”

Everyone quieted down instantly, and the noise was heard once more. It sounded like a soft wail, and she saw the stunned looks that people were sharing with each other.

“No way that’s the ghost, right?” one of them asked.

Chongyun jumped up from his seat, although it seemed like he was more excited than scared. “No way. Someone check the time.”

“It’s 9:33.” A gasp followed. “It’s got to be just a coincidence.”

“That’s definitely not a ghost. Who believes in those childish stories, anyway? It’s probably an animal.”

“Okay, but it kind of does sound like a person crying.” Amber stood up from her seat and started to walk backwards quickly. “I hope you all have fun, ‘cause I’m leaving.”

Most of the group started to shuffle out of their seats to go with Amber, while the few remaining just looked skeptical. Chongyun was starting to walk towards the direction of the noise, but a boy with dark teal hair pulled at his hand.

“Let’s go back,” the boy said, a deep frown on his face. “As you said earlier, the legends say she lures people in with her cries.”

“This would be my first time seeing a real ghost, Xingqiu.” Chongyun turned to him with what seemed like puppy eyes. “Please.”

“I care about you too much to risk losing you to a ghost. Real or not.” Xingqiu sighed, pulling him back. “Let’s go.”

“But…” Chongyun was dragged back, although he kept looking longingly towards the trees. “Okay. Wait. Did you just say you care for me?”

Keqing still sat in the same spot through it all, watching every exchange. She turned to Ganyu, who was looking towards the source of the sound. “Scared yet?”

Ganyu glanced back at her. “Not at all. I’m kind of curious to see what it is.”

“Same here.” Keqing stood up and took a step towards the direction of the cries. “Let’s go.”

The two of them walked past a few large trees, although the sound of the crying didn’t get any louder with every step they took. Small twigs and leaves crunched beneath their feet as they continued to walk forward, until a girl with long black hair in a torn dress materialized in front of them. She was semi-transparent, but the streaks of tears on her face were evident.

Keqing stared at the ghost, who looked somewhat familiar for whatever reason. Perhaps they’d crossed paths at one point. But the rumors of her existence were true. “Hello. Good day. Or, I suppose, night.”

Ganyu took a step forward slowly. “Are you alright?”

The ghost fell to her knees, making a soft noise as she hit the leaves. “Have you seen a golden necklace with a heart locket?”

Keqing looked at Ganyu, who seemed just as clueless. “No, we haven’t. We’ve actually only just arrived.”

The ghost sobbed into her hands, her cries echoing through the forest. Keqing eyed her warily.

“Does this necklace belong to you?” Ganyu asked, kneeling down next to the ghost. “We can help you.”

Keqing glanced at her in surprise. Even she as a god was wary of dealing with the wrong type of ghost, but it seemed that Ganyu’s kindness was greater than such doubts and fears. She reluctantly squatted down until her shoulders were close enough to brush against Ganyu’s.

If anything didn’t go as planned, she was still able to summon her arrows. She wasn’t sure if her love arrows would do anything to a malicious ghost, as she’d never had a reason to fight one. But she would find out today if that would be the case. Or, perhaps this could pose an opportunity for her to use the Electro Vision she’d long since had no use for since her ascension as a god.

“It belongs to me,” the ghost said, clutching at her chest. “It was a gift from my late wife.”

Keqing felt a tug within her heart. From the looks of it, this was someone who had died before even reaching her mid-twenties. It was a girl in love, stuck in the mortal realm after death, yearning for a necklace from her late lover. It could very well be a malicious ghost, but as the Goddess of Love, how was she supposed to ignore such a request?

“We’ll help you find it,” Ganyu said, standing back up and taking a glance at the trees surrounding them. “Do you remember where you last remember seeing it?”

The ghost shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s okay. We’ll help you look.”

As Ganyu started to look behind trees and bushes, Keqing followed behind her. The ghost was trailing behind them, her sniffles making up for the awkward silence lingering in the air.

Keqing turned on her feet and looked at the ghost, trying to figure out where she’d seen her face before. “What is your name?”

The ghost ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head rapidly. “I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember your wife’s name?”

“No,” the ghost answered, her eyes welling up with tears again. She looked at Keqing with a pleaful expression. “Can you help me remember?”

“I don’t have such abilities,” Keqing said, noting how a flash of confusion flickered across the ghost’s face. The ghost must’ve wanted to hear so desperately that they could solve all of her problems. “But we’ll try our best to help you. Why don’t you stay here and wait?”

The ghost nodded and plopped herself down next to a tree, bringing her knees close to her chest. Keqing sighed and turned to her right, where Ganyu was now a good distance away looking at the bottom of a tree.

As she jogged to catch up to Ganyu, she said, “This forest is too vast. I don’t know if this is possible.”

“I know. But, still. There’s a chance that we could be lucky.” Ganyu swept aside a few leaves on the ground.

Keqing glanced back at the ghost, who was staring back at them with hope glimmering in her brown eyes. “It’s interesting that she appeared so suddenly out of thin air. She must’ve decided to reveal herself to us—probably after taking notice of your calming presence.”

“I’d like to think it was the both of us! You have a nice presence too.” Ganyu’s eyes were bright.

Keqing blinked back at her, not quite knowing how to respond, before she realized it was a compliment. She smiled. “Thanks.”

“So,” Ganyu said, as she kicked away at a few leaves on the ground with her shoes, “are you still feeling okay about the on-screen kiss?”

Keqing had been looking at a bird’s nest when she heard the sudden question. The topic of the kiss alone was enough to make her lose her train of thought. “Uh.”

Ganyu quirked her eyebrows. “Don’t feel forced to say yes.”

“I’m okay with it. Really.” Keqing looked away, back at the empty bird’s nest. It was suddenly looking extremely interesting, with all its tiny sticks and leaves. “We’ll go with what Director Wu wants.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely. I think it’d all be a good experience, anyway. My first on-screen kiss,” said Keqing. She wasn’t about to admit that it would be her first ever kiss.

“We’ll make it a good experience,” Ganyu agreed, and Keqing felt her face start to heat up.

They looked around for what seemed like forever, sorting through fallen leaves and looking in the hollow parts of trees. The ghost kept crying throughout it all, serving as interesting background music for their search. Keqing looked back every now and then, mostly due to her mistrust, to see if the ghost would somehow be planning a surprise attack on them. But the ghost truly seemed harmless.

To think that Keqing was currently here searching for someone’s lost necklace. Ai would laugh if she knew. This mission of hers was making her do the most random tasks of all.

Ganyu glanced at her watch. “We have to be back on the set in around thirty minutes. They should be finished filming the twins’ scenes soon.”

“I’m not sure if we’ll ever be able to find it.” Keqing glanced towards the direction of the ghost’s soft cries. “Which is unfortunate. Her soul won’t be able to find peace until she finds it.”

“Wait.” Ganyu pointed above them. “I think I see something shining up there.”

Keqing looked to where she was pointing. It was a branch that was far above their heads, but something did appear to be glinting under the faint moonlight. “You have a good eye.”

Ganyu grinned widely at her. “This might be it!”

Keqing found herself staring at her dazzling smile without meaning to. But she snapped back into reality when she saw Ganyu place her hands on the tree. “Wait, are you going to climb it?”

“How else would I get it?”

“That could be dangerous.” Keqing walked forward and looked back up at the branch. “We might be able to reach it if we help each other up.”

“How would we?” Ganyu gasped slightly as Keqing knelt down. “I’m not going to step on you.”

Keqing laughed. “I’m not asking you to. If you sit on my shoulders, we might be able to reach it.”

Ganyu glanced at the branch, then back at Keqing. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. I’ve seen people do this in a movie once. It seems safe.” It was a movie that Ganyu had starred in, but she wasn’t about to admit that.

“I don’t know if a movie is so reliable, but okay. If it gets too much for you, just let me know. I wouldn't want you to get hurt.” Ganyu cleared her throat and placed one leg on Keqing’s shoulder, then did the same for the other. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable.”

Keqing held tightly to the front of Ganyu’s legs and stood up slowly. She almost stumbled forward, but steadied her stance and took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Just let me know if you can reach it.”

“I think I can. Can you get on your tippy toes?”

“My tippy toes?”

“Like, when you get on the tips of your toes to reach something far above you.”

Keqing’s feet were trembling as she tried. It was harder than she thought, and her shoulders were starting to ache. Her face was starting to feel hot, as well. “How’s this? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

“I think I can.” Ganyu breathed out a sigh of relief. “I got it! You can set me down now.”

Keqing lowered herself onto the ground, allowing Ganyu to step off. “We got really lucky.”

“We did. It must be you! I usually don’t have good luck.” Ganyu placed a hand on Keqing’s shoulder. “Thank you. Are you okay? Was it not too much of a strain?”

Keqing reached up to cover Ganyu’s fingers with her own hand and smiled. “I’m completely fine. I’m glad we were able to find it.”

Ganyu’s gaze flickered to their hands, then she returned the smile with one of her classic gentle ones. “Thank you, Keqing. Really.”

“I didn’t do much. It was all you.” Keqing pointed towards the direction of the ghost. “Let’s get it back to our nameless friend now.”

“Hopefully, this is enough for her to stop haunting this area.” Ganyu walked by her side as she held up the necklace in the air. “It’s funny how all those rumors sprang about with the cave and all. People have a wild imagination.”

“I’m guessing she’s never revealed herself to others before. But I do wonder why she wasn’t able to find it after haunting this area for so long.”

“Bad eyesight?” Ganyu suggested. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she can’t see through all of the constant tears.”

“That’s a fair point.” Keqing tilted her head. “Do you have good eyesight after all this time?”

“Still perfect vision.” Ganyu grinned as she gave her a thumbs-up.

Keqing knew the meaning of the hand gesture this time. She gave Ganyu a thumbs-up as they got closer to where the ghost remained sitting by a tree.

The ghost sprang up from her spot when she saw them. “Did you find it?”

“It got caught up in a branch far above the trees,” Ganyu said, placing the necklace in her hand. “Here you go.”

The ghost wiped her eyes and opened the heart locket. She then hugged it to her chest. “Thank you so much.” With a hiccup, she held up the necklace dangling towards them. “This is her.”

Keqing squinted as she leaned closer. It was a faded picture, but she could make out the face of a girl who had a big smile on her face. That was when it clicked. She recognized who this person was.

The girl pictured in the locket was someone who’d sent a prayer to her in the past—it had to be around a hundred years ago. Keqing remembered it clearly now. It was someone who’d been asking for a lover as their Lantern Rite wish. Keqing recalled how she’d matched this girl with the daughter of a baker across the street.

But to see that their love had not lasted as long as she’d hoped, due to whatever unfortunate circumstances that cut their lives short… It was all a shame.

“She is very beautiful,” Ganyu said, her eyes widening a fraction as the ghost sat back down in front of them.

The ghost was starting to dim, starting with her hands and arms, showing the signs of passing on. “Thank you both.”

As her hands faded, the necklace slipped out of her grasp and fell to the ground. Keqing picked it up quickly and took a step closer towards the ghost. She leaned down, hanging the necklace around the ghost’s neck. As she did so, she whispered into her ear, “Your name is Meifeng. Hers is Xiaoli.”

The ghost bowed her head. In a voice so soft she could hardly hear, she replied, “Thank you, Goddess.”

Keqing’s head turned to face her quickly. “How…?”

“Being a spirit allows me to see your aura. Yours shines like a bright light,” Meifeng murmured as she wrapped her fingers around the locket. “Thank you, again.”

Keqing took some steps back until she was standing next to Ganyu again. The two watched as Meifeng gave them one last smile before disappearing completely, with the necklace this time.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Who knew that helping a spirit pass on would’ve been on the agenda for today.”

“It was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. May her soul rest in peace now.”

“We can only hope.”

“And let’s hope there’s no more strange cries at night anymore.” Ganyu glanced at her watch. “I think we can make it back to the set in time.”

As Keqing followed after Ganyu, she felt another yawn escape her lips. The nap from the plane seemed to be wearing off, and she could only hope there wouldn’t be a repeat of the events from a few nights ago.

Ganyu turned to face her at the sound of the yawn. “You’re not going to pass out on me again, right?”

Keqing felt her face flush. “No. I’m still sorry about that.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for.” Ganyu reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her phone. “They’re asking if I’m still alive out here.”

“Are you planning on telling them about the ghost?”

Ganyu’s fingers tapped away on her phone before she put it back into her pocket. She shook her head. “It’s not worth giving them something to freak out about. Who knows what kind of other rumors they’d spread about the ghost. We can just say we got lost while looking around.”

“That’s good with me.” Keqing’s eyes caught on Ganyu’s rings once again. “I’ve noticed you don’t take your rings off.”

“Oh, I just always keep them on me.”

“You’re allowed to?”

“I don’t really have a choice.” Ganyu laughed as she held her hands out and tugged at the rings. “They don’t come off.”

Keqing watched as Ganyu pulled at each of the three rings on her left hand. Neither of them budged. “What?”

“Trust me. I know.” Ganyu extended her hand. “Want to try?”

Keqing hesitated before she slowly reached over to pull at each ring. They were stuck, as if they’d been glued on. “That’s… strange.”

“I’ve had them on me since forever, so I’m used to them,” Ganyu said. “Maybe since I was born? I always remember having them on me. They must’ve been forged by some kind of sorceress. I just don’t mess with them anymore.”

Keqing frowned. This was the first time she was hearing of something like this. “Do you think they have some kind of meaning?”

“I haven’t been able to figure that out.” Ganyu sighed as she looked at Keqing. “Any ideas? I’ve asked this to all my friends.”

“Friends,” Keqing repeated softly. “You consider us friends?”

“Are we not?” Ganyu raised a brow. “I carried you on my back that day. I think that settled it.”

Keqing stared and tried to muster a word out of herself. The concept of having a friend seemed so strange. How long had it been since she made a new one?

“Friends.” Keqing nodded as the corners of her lips tugged upwards. “We’re friends.”

“So, do you have any thoughts about my rings?” Ganyu spread out her fingers. “They’re all just golden, but each is different. One is braided.”

“The other’s in the shape of small vines.”

“And the last one is just a thin band.” Ganyu sighed. “They’re just a mystery.”

Keqing stared at the rings, then back at Ganyu, who was looking at her expectantly. “I have no clue, either.”

“Maybe one day I’ll find some answers.” Ganyu lowered her hand. “Not today.”

“One day,” Keqing agreed as they walked near the campfire they were at earlier. She made a mental note to mention the rings to Ai at some point. With Ai’s vast knowledge, it was possible she could find an answer.

From here, they could see the trailers ahead and hear the distant chatter of the staff.

“Ready for the scenes?” Ganyu asked as she waved at someone far ahead. “The twins are here.”

They came rushing over to engulf Ganyu in a hug. They both said in unison, “Ganyu!”

Ganyu took a few steps back from the sudden impact, but steadied herself. “Nice to see you both. Did your scenes go well?”

“They were perfect.” The boy smiled and waved. “You’re Keqing, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Aether.”

“Hi! I’m Lumine.” The girl stuck out her hand, making a fist, in the air toward Keqing. “Let’s film some amazing scenes together!”

Keqing stared at the hand, then she reached over to clasp Lumine’s hand with her own fingers.

Lumine blinked in confusion. “Oh. I guess that works too, if you want to shake hands. I’m the strange one here trying to do a fist bump.” She relaxed her hand and shook Keqing’s hand properly.

“Was it not supposed to be a handshake? What did you say it was? A fist bump?” Keqing asked, looking at her hand, then at Lumine’s.

“Are you Ganyu’s secret twin or something?” Aether asked, laughing. “She didn’t know what a fist bump was a while back too. We had to explain it to her.”

“But she’s kind of old, so it was excusable.” Lumine patted her shoulder. “We love you, Ganyu.”

Ganyu rolled her eyes playfully as she shook off Lumine’s hand. “Whatever. I believe it was perfectly reasonable to not know what a fist bump was. It’s not used too often.”

“Lumine’s just peculiar and tends to fist bump random people,” Aether said. “It’s okay. We’re all still learning new things every day.”

“Ah. Thanks for letting me know.” Keqing extended her hand towards Lumine. “How about we give this another try?”

Lumine laughed as she bumped their fists together. “Nice to meet you, Keqing. I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since I saw you blowing up on the internet.”

Keqing wasn’t sure if she heard correctly. “I blew up?”

“As in, you got famous.” Aether gave her a funny look. “You know, I like you. You’re kind of strange like Ganyu.”

Ganyu made a noise of disapproval. “Aether, you can call me strange all you want. But spare Keqing from all of that nonsense, if you will.”

“Oh?” Aether’s brows went up as he glanced between them. “Alright. I see how it is.”

“A very interesting development,” Lumine added, tapping her chin.

“Alright, everyone, come around to the set! We’ll be filming soon,” a voice called out. It was a staff member, waving at them with a hand clenching a stack of paper.

Ganyu clapped her hands together. “Alright, team. Let’s go and knock it into the park.”

“Knock it out of the park,” corrected Lumine, patting Ganyu’s shoulder. “You’re learning.”

“See? You two are eerily similar.” Aether’s eyes darted between Ganyu and Keqing.

Keqing inwardly sighed as she followed them towards the set. Aether and Lumine quickly fell into a lighthearted discussion with Ganyu about something funny that had happened during the scene earlier. Aether apparently had spilled a cup of water over himself, and then tripped in the puddle he caused. Ganyu looked at her from time to time, as if to make her feel included in the conversation.

But each step closer towards the set meant her first ever kiss was speedily approaching. Her heart was starting to race, and it hit her that for the first time in forever, she was actually nervous about something.

As the Goddess of Love, she was about to have her first kiss very soon. Every glance she stole at Ganyu, she couldn’t help but notice her lips, which looked quite soft, and realized that she would be kissing those lips soon enough.

Keqing calmed herself down with some big, deep breaths. This kiss meant nothing, after all. It was for a camera. Even if it was her first ever kiss, yes, but it was fake.

But, still. As a hopeless romantic herself, how was she not to swoon about her very own first kiss? It was not with someone she was in love with, no, but it was still a kiss. Although she was the Goddess of Love, unlike other gods, she did not have the luxury or the right to be in a relationship due to the Heavenly Principles. This would most likely be her first and only ever kiss. Fireworks would blast in her mind throughout it all, she was sure of it.

A yawn left her lips as she stepped into the cabin where they were filming. A horrifying thought popped up into her mind: what would she do if she passed out while kissing Ganyu?

The thought was enough to make her start to sweat. Ganyu smiled at her before they filmed their first scene of the day, one with Aether and Lumine. Keqing could only smile nervously back as she hoped her body would not give out during such a crucial moment of her life.

If only she could send out a prayer to the Goddess of Love. It was a shame it was herself.

Chapter Text

“This will be your first on-screen kiss, right?”

Keqing couldn’t help but laugh a bit at Ganyu’s innocent expression. “That’s right.”

Not only was this her first on-screen kiss, but her first ever kiss. It was a monumental moment for the Goddess of Love. Ganyu had asked her again a moment ago if she was sure of proceeding with the kiss, if she was comfortable doing it, if she was still completely okay with it, to which the answers were all yes, yes, and yes.

“I am honored to be your first, then.” Ganyu offered a small smile before looking towards the director, waiting for his cue to start.

“I would say the honor is mine,” Keqing replied, feeling her cheeks starting to warm as she thought of what was to come.

They quickly settled outside on a checkered blanket. Ganyu was sitting up straight, while Keqing was lying down with her head on the side of Ganyu’s lap. Just before coming outside, they’d filmed a scene where they had a small amount of wine with the twins in the cabin. Ganyu’s character was supposed to be tipsy, resulting in the build-up for the kiss. A kiss that really wasn’t necessary, since all it did was show poor decision-making when it came to drinking. But the director seemed to not care. In fact, he seemed to not care about many things.

When Director Wu called, “Action,” Keqing could feel her hands starting to get a little clammy. To think that she was actually nervous about this. But how could she not?

Ganyu began to follow through with her lines, asking, “Do you believe in the idea of there being a parallel universe?”

Keqing shook her head. “I haven’t really thought about it, honestly. Do you?”

“I feel like it could be a possibility. I suppose we’ll never know.” Ganyu’s hand then lowered, her fingers running through the bottom of Keqing’s hair—which was out of its pigtails today. “I’ve been wondering about it lately, though. If there’s another version of me, happy, you know. A version of me who doesn’t know who Yuming is.”

Keqing tilted her head to look up at Ganyu, who was staring at the stars above with a wistful expression. “Do you wish for that? To have never met her?”

“Sometimes. Is that wrong of me?”

“Not at all. I wish the same for you at times. You wouldn’t be hurting like you are now.”

“I wonder if I would be with anyone else.”

Keqing paused for a few seconds, hoping this was what the ‘Ruijin takes a moment to hesitate’ part of the script meant. “Does anyone come to mind?”

Ganyu did a small shake of her head. “I don’t think I can say. But I suppose it wouldn’t be too late to move on and find other people.”

“It’s never too late.” Keqing reached up to her black wig, where Ganyu’s hand was. She grasped her hand, weaving their fingers together. “You’ll find your special someone. Yuming isn’t the only fish in the sea, you know.”

“She isn’t.” Ganyu’s fingers tightened in her grasp. “I know there are better people out there.”

Keqing smiled as she ran her fingers against Ganyu’s knuckles. “You’re beautiful and kind. You’re bound to find others who will love you just as much.”

Ganyu was looking down at her now, her attention finally averted from the sky above. “I could say the same for you. Someone will be lucky to have you one day.”

A soft laugh left Keqing’s lips. “Do you believe so?”

Ganyu nodded and raised their interlaced fingers in the air. “Perhaps in another life, we would’ve been lovers.”

Keqing stared at her silently. “And what makes you say that?”

“You know, the friends-to-lovers pipeline that we often see in books and movies,” Ganyu said, tilting her head. “Have you ever thought about it?”

Keqing gulped. It was cruel of Jingli to give Ruijin hopeless fantasies like this, but then again, Jingli didn’t know about her unrequited feelings. “I have.”

Ganyu’s lips slightly parted in surprise. “Oh? And is that often?”

Keqing’s gaze remained steadily on Ganyu’s eyes. “Nearly every day.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. “Ruijin.”

“But these feelings are mine alone to deal with,” Keqing said softly, loosening her hand out of Ganyu’s grasp. “You don’t have to worry.”

Ganyu’s fingers found hers quickly again. “I wish I’d known sooner.”

“Would that have changed anything?”

Ganyu laughed. “Yes. I used to have the biggest crush on you in the past, before Yuming came along.”

Keqing stilled. “What?”

“Is it so hard to believe? We had so many moments where I was convinced you would kiss me, but you never did.”

Keqing’s mouth slightly parted. “If I had, would you have kissed me back?”

“Have I not already made it clear that I liked you before?” Humor shone in her eyes. “The answer would’ve been a definite yes.”

“But…”

“I used to wonder for the longest time what it would be like to kiss you,” Ganyu admitted, her gaze nervously flitting across her face. “But it would be cruel to do that now.”

“Cruel how?”

“It’d be cruel to you.”

“A kiss?”

Ganyu looked at her lips briefly. “One kiss, but I wouldn’t want you to be expecting anything more. I’m not in the place for another relationship right now.”

Keqing turned her face away, her head shifting on Ganyu’s lap. She felt her heart starting to race as she sat upright, turning away from Ganyu. “Then don’t, Jingli. You’re not thinking properly right now.”

“But I want to, and I’ve always thought what it’d be like.” Ganyu exhaled. “I know I’m selfish.”

“You can be pretty selfish.”

“And you still like me for it?” Ganyu reached over to give a tug on her hand.

Keqing let out a small laugh. “I knew what I was signing up for.”

“So will you kiss me?” Ganyu asked softly, and Keqing held her breath as she turned until they were facing each other.

It was happening. Amidst the ridiculous dialogue that made little sense, the pointless kiss scene that had been created from their popularity online was actually going to turn into a reality in these next few seconds. She didn’t even know if the audience would go along with how spontaneous and nonsensical this kiss was. But for her, this was huge. Her first ever kiss, a moment that she would surely never forget.

She was busy internally freaking out, to the point where she didn’t even register the lines that she was saying next to Ganyu. Something that was like, “You already know the answer to that.” And then Ganyu was leaning forward, her lips coming closer. That was all Keqing could focus on, her pink lips. They looked soft, even glossy under the soft light of the set. As her lips were inching closer, Keqing’s mind went to all the pairs of eyes on them. Take that for a first kiss—to have nearly thirty people staring at you.

But when their lips met, the thoughts of everyone watching them disappeared. She found that Ganyu’s lips were soft, somehow even softer than they looked. They fit perfectly against her own. They were warm, and she could taste what seemed to be an artificial type of strawberries, whatever type of lip balm it was that Ganyu had put on her lips. The kiss was slow; she let Ganyu guide the way their lips were moving against each other before she got the hang of it.

The Goddess of Love was learning.

She could see that Ganyu’s eyes were closed, and then she realized that hers were wide open. Before she could close them, Director Wu called out, “Cut! Let’s try the kiss scene again. Keqing, I think you forgot to close your eyes.”

As Ganyu pulled away, Keqing covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. That was a rookie mistake on my part.”

Ganyu’s body slightly shook with laughter. “That’s alright. It happens. You did your best.”

Keqing lowered her hands from her face. “Do you have any other suggestions for me?”

“Not at all. Just keep it up.” Ganyu looked towards the director as he signaled for them to start. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Keqing said, although she wasn’t sure if she was. Her face still felt a bit hot, and she hoped it didn’t look red. Her lips were tingling, and she had to keep her hands down to stop them from coming up to touch her mouth.

As Director Wu called for them to resume, Keqing was given another chance for her lips to find another kiss. This time, she remembered to close her eyes as their lips met, moving against each other slowly. It was again a warm kiss, sending a magical feeling that trickled from her lips all the way throughout her body.

But the scene was cut short, and Keqing was instructed to do something with her hands during the scene to make the kiss look more natural.

And so they tried again. Ganyu gave her tips and more guidance, which resulted in a better scene that the director loved. For this kiss, Keqing had her hands reaching up to cup Ganyu’s face, while Ganyu’s fingers were running through her hair.

Keqing’s heart was racing throughout it all. She blamed her nerves for wanting to get this kiss right for the camera, but there was also a small part of her that wouldn’t mind if Director Wu called for another take. She was too distracted by the kiss to even remember if there were any other lines that she had to say afterwards.

But a few seconds later, there was a sudden loud clap of thunder that boomed above them. Before she could even register it, what followed next was the rush of rain that poured down, leaving cold raindrops covering her face and hands. And despite the cold, the warmth of the kiss was enough to act as its own flame between them.

”We should head inside and get away from this rain,” Ganyu said, parting from the kiss with a small smile.

Although Keqing didn’t recognize those lines from the script, she found herself nodding along as Ganyu stood up and held out a hand. She took it carefully, allowing Ganyu to pull her up. They were getting drenched, and yet moving slowly as if they had all the time in the world.

At the conclusion of the scene, Director Wu came up to them with a grin as he held an umbrella over their heads. He was a black-haired man shorter than them, so it was apparent that he was struggling to hold the umbrella high enough. Keqing decided to help and hold the umbrella for him. Another staff member slipped by quickly to place towels over their damp shoulders.

“That was great. Rain wasn’t on the forecast, but it worked.” He flashed a grin as he looked at Ganyu. “Nice job on the improv at the end. The way you smiled throughout the kiss! Stellar performance as usual.”

“Won’t the kiss scene feel too forced?” Keqing asked, and he looked at her as if she’d just spat out the most ridiculous question ever.

In a matter-of-fact voice, he said, “It felt completely natural. The audience will like it either way.”

Keqing glanced at Ganyu, who was preoccupied with getting a feel of the rain on her hand, which was sticking out from beneath the umbrella. “Whatever you say.”

“We were thinking of changing the script around,” the director said. “No more eventual happy ending with Yuming. This can be more of a story that leaves it open to the audience’s interpretation at the end.”

“Would this be an ending where Jingli ends up with Ruijin?” Ganyu asked, finally speaking up. Her attention seemed to have switched from the rain back to the director.

“No, that’s a question that the audience will be left wondering with. The two of them will have a confusing status after this kiss, anyway.” He smiled brightly as if it was the best idea he’d ever had.

To Keqing, it sounded like a sloppy job at tidying up the ends of the movie. While the director seemed so focused on profiting using their popularity, she believed the movie would only end up failing for its ridiculous storyline. But at the end of the day, the fate of the movie didn’t matter to her. Not when she would be back in Celestia soon enough.

Ganyu looked pensive as she spoke, “I think it might work if we make it more about Jingli’s self-discovery after her breakup. She starts focusing on herself, looks into new hobbies, and finds more to enjoy about life outside of her office job.”

The director’s eyes were about to bug out of his head. “Ganyu, you are an absolute genius. A self-discovery story! Yes! That’s more like it.”

With an eager tone, Ganyu continued, “The open-ended ending about her relationship status with Ruijin would be alright, as long as we don’t make it seem like a huge deal. If we want to focus on Jingli’s self-growth, who she’s dating wouldn’t be such a big priority.”

Keqing felt herself smiling as she listened to Ganyu talk. The story was starting to seem like it wouldn’t be a total failure, after all. With her years of experience, Ganyu seemed to have an eye for the proper direction a story should take.

“I’ll be discussing this right now with the writers,” the director said, nodding as he started to run off towards the trailers that were far in the distance. He yelled out, “Take a small break before our next scene with the twins in the cabin, alright?”

Keqing watched as the short man stumbled past the trees. She let out a sigh as she glanced back at Ganyu. “Is being part of a movie production normally such a mess?”

“No,” Ganyu answered, amusement in her eyes. “Not usually. Director Wu is different. Very fickle and spontaneous.”

“I can see that,” Keqing said, her words trailing off when she saw Ganyu step out from the umbrella. “Where are you going?”

“The rain,” Ganyu said, continuing to step away and raising her hands in the air. A big smile was on her face as her eyes closed. “I love the rain.”

Right. Keqing recalled this fact. Right now, Ganyu had her arms slightly spread apart as her head tilted towards the sky. The sudden downpour had eased, leaving softer rain to bounce off the ground. “Won’t you catch a cold?”

Ganyu’s eyes opened, and they were looking at each other now. “This is fine.”

“You were cold earlier,” Keqing pointed out as she stepped forward, raising the umbrella over them both. “We can’t have the star actress getting sick during our filming.”

Ganyu laughed, but she slightly shivered as she took the umbrella out of Keqing’s hands. “Allow me to hold this.”

The words of refusal at the tip of her tongue quickly died out when she accidentally caught another glance at Ganyu’s lips. Her cheeks flushed as she cleared her throat and looked away. “Thank you.”

“I must apologize if I caught you off guard by standing in the rain like that,” Ganyu said. “I know it probably looked strange.”

“That’s nothing to be sorry for. There’s no crime in loving the rain.” Keqing stared at a small plant near a tree that was drooping from the weight of the raindrops. Anything to distract herself from the kiss. Her first kiss. “What makes you like the rain so much?”

“It fills me with peace. I know others may associate it with a gloomy feeling, but it often brings me bliss.”

Keqing finally looked up at her, but it turned out to be a mistake. At the sight of that familiar smile, she felt her face getting warm, and she glanced away again. “That’s fitting for the meaning of your name. Sweet rain.”

“You bring up a valid point. While it may be a bitter experience for others, it is sweet to me.” Ganyu’s hand was slightly shaking from her shivers as she held onto the umbrella tightly.

“Let’s head towards the cabin and get you dried up.” Keqing stepped forward and tilted her chin towards the direction of the cabin ahead of them. It was larger than what she had imagined. It was two stories tall with functioning bright lights, large rooms, and even a nice warm fireplace. Wuwang Hill had progressed greatly since Keqing last saw it.

As they walked, she noticed that Ganyu was holding the umbrella more towards her side. Keqing pushed the umbrella back towards the space between them. “We’re sharing this.”

“We are,” Ganyu agreed, but Keqing saw that her right shoulder seemed even more damp than it had been a few minutes ago.

“You’re too polite,” said Keqing as she steadied the umbrella that Ganyu was trying to push towards her again. “You should take care of yourself too.”

As a breeze swept over them, Keqing felt goosebumps rising over her arms. And yet, the warmth never left her cheeks. Were the effects of a kiss normally so long-lasting? She would have to ask Ai later. But she also felt like if she asked Ai, it would only lead to countless teasing.

So perhaps it would be best if she kept this information to herself.

➵ ✩

After they finished filming for the day, Keqing was outside waiting for the chauffeur to arrive when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Ganyu, who gave her a small wave in greeting.

“I figured I would wait with you,” Ganyu said, glancing around on the sidewalk that they were standing on. “It’s pretty dark and empty out here. You didn’t want to wait back near the parking lot?”

Keqing stifled a yawn as she looked back towards where the parking lot was. While she would have waited there, she also didn’t know when her body was going to shut down on her. The last thing she wanted was to cause another scene. “It was pretty loud and busy back there. You don’t have to wait with me, though. It’s getting late.”

Ganyu was fiddling with her rings when their gazes met again. “It’s okay, Keqing. It’d make me feel better to know you got home safe.” Then she smiled as her gaze drifted upwards. “You have a braid next to your bangs again. Did you do it yourself this time?”

“I did! You taught me well.” Keqing reached up to her braid, and she made the same mistake of looking at Ganyu’s lips once more. She took a deep breath and looked at the bush behind Ganyu, figuring that it was more interesting and a nice distraction.

“I’d say you’re just a fast learner.” Ganyu laughed softly. “Like that kiss earlier.”

Keqing looked at Ganyu, her face feeling like it was close to being in flames. “Could you tell that it was my first?”

“It was your first?” Ganyu asked, genuine surprise flickering on her face.

“It was. But that’s nothing special, right?” Keqing asked, although deep inside, she knew she was lying to them both.

“A first kiss is a big deal.” Ganyu rubbed the back of her neck with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry your first had to be an on-screen kiss.”

Keqing waved a hand in the air. “Nonsense. That’s nothing to be sorry about. A first kiss is just a plain old kiss.”

“If you insist.”

Keqing looked at her curiously, wondering if Ganyu’s first kiss had been special. Although Beidou had mentioned Ganyu was single now, there was a possibility of the existence of a past lover. “Forgive me for asking, but was yours not?”

“I’m on the same boat as you. My first kiss happened during the filming for my first ever movie.”

“Oh, I see.” Keqing held back a laugh as she saw Ganyu’s regretful expression. “Then why were you so surprised about it being true for me?”

Ganyu raised a brow at her. “I still think a first kiss is special. And it shouldn’t be for a camera. Just because mine was doesn’t mean yours should be too.”

Keqing nodded as she took in this information. If Ganyu’s first kiss had been through her films, then maybe it was a possibility that she hadn’t had any lovers until now. Although she wasn’t sure what to make of it at the moment, it was still useful to know in terms of matchmaking.

“I see you’re a hopeless romantic.” Keqing gave her a small smile, knowing that she herself was, as well. “Are you sure I’m not making anyone wait?”

“Not at all. My manager’s probably using this time to take a nap in the car, anyway. You’re fine.” Ganyu gave her a thumbs-up. “I also just wanted to thank you for your hard work today. You did well.”

Keqing mirrored her, giving her a thumbs-up too. Confidently. Now that she knew what it meant. “Same to you. Today’s been a wild day with the ghost send-off and all.”

“Oh, you’re right. That already feels like so long ago.” Ganyu whistled softly. “I wonder what happened to that ghost and her wife.”

“It was truly tragic. They must’ve shared only a short time together in their mortal lives,” Keqing agreed, then realized how her words could be interpreted strangely and raise suspicion. “Mortals. Like me.”

There was a flash of confusion on Ganyu’s face. “Yes, like you.”

Keqing forced a smile when she realized she’d just made it worse. It would’ve been better to just keep her mouth shut. She cleared her throat and said, “I guess I’ll see what becomes of my short mortal lifespan, as well.”

Ganyu blinked at her in response, and Keqing realized she was digging her own grave at this point. She could nearly hear what Ai would have to say if she heard of this conversation—it would be something like, “Okay, Keqing. We get it. You’re a mortal. As if she didn’t know already. Why don’t you show her your goddess form while we’re at it?”

But just like magic, a black car pulled up to the curb at that very moment. Keqing internally sighed in relief at the sight, feeling like she could even cry tears of happiness. She’d already embarrassed herself enough today.

“Goodnight, Ganyu!” Keqing quickly said, waving as she opened the door and slipped inside the car. She didn’t even bother looking back, only because she was scared of feeling like disappearing even more if she caught sight of Ganyu’s continued confusion.

As they drove off, she felt a wave of embarrassment engulfing her body. It was clear that her social skills were lacking, and no amount of practicing with Ai could ever change this.

Socializing was difficult, and it was becoming clear that her godhood could never save her from such a curse. While she as the Goddess of Love had her first kiss today, it was also the first time she felt a part of her soul shrivel up from humiliation. Today was special indeed, a spectacular day for new, unforgettable accomplishments. Some that were exciting, and some that poked at her pride.

➵ ✩

The entire car ride to the hotel, Keqing sat in her seat dozing off. It didn’t help that the driver was playing classical music, which only lulled her to sleep quicker. It was when Ai opened the car door for her outside the hotel that she jolted awake, only to stumble out with half-lidded eyes and a muffled word of gratitude to the driver.

“Thank you,” Ai called out to the chauffeur, then caught Keqing in her arms. “Goodness. Keqing, are you still there?”

“Mm.” Keqing nodded as she took a step back, taking in the sight of Ai’s concerned face. “You know what happened today?”

As Ai started to guide her through the doors of the building, she replied, “What, your first kiss?”

Keqing slowly walked through the lobby, which had a bright chandelier that was nearly blinding. “So many things. The kiss, and I realized I’m so awkward when I socialize, but before that, there was this ghost.”

“What?” Ai stopped them in front of the elevator. “Wait. Save your energy and tell me more tomorrow. Don’t pass out on me here.”

“It was really sad,” Keqing said, her gaze falling upon the ground. She felt her body starting to feel heavier. “She died young.”

“Stay with me. Fight the energy drain if you can until we at least get to your room,” Ai replied, tapping her foot on the ground impatiently. “This elevator always takes forever.”

“She was one of the matches I made,” Keqing mumbled, and that was when she lost her balance and fell towards Ai as her body succumbed to sleep.

➵ ✩

“She had rings that didn't come off?”

“Strange, isn’t it?” Keqing asked, sipping from a cup of jasmine tea as she stood in front of the window of the living room. From here, she could see a myriad of buildings that stretched out below them, along with the shiny reflections on their surfaces of the morning sun. “I haven’t heard of rings like that.”

“Let me see.” Ai closed her eyes, her brows knitting together. “There has been no recorded case of that in history. Even Ganyu doesn’t come up when I search for it. It appears as if she hasn’t been vocal about it.”

Keqing pulled her white robe closer to her body as she sat down next to Ai on the couch. “I wonder if the rings have anything to do with the arrows not working.”

“Could they have some type of power that deflects the powers of your arrows?” Ai asked, her blue eyes opening again to meet her gaze. “It’s a possibility.”

“If the rings won’t come off, then there’s no way to get her a match.”

“It’s also not certain that the rings have anything to do with the match failures.”

Keqing sighed as she set down her mug and reached over to the coffee table to pick up her phone. “I was thinking of matching her with an immortal. I’ll have to do my research.”

“I could go to Celestia to get information from Infinity System,” Ai suggested.

“That can be our last resort. I think I can do this myself.”

Keqing tapped on the internet icon on her phone and started typing into the search bar of Teyvatverse. This was what Ai had shown her a few days ago, the search engine that mortals used. She already missed the holographic technology back home in Celestia, where she didn’t have to type a single letter at all.

“Are you searching up your own name?” Ai asked, snorting as she looked at her phone. “Keqing.”

“I’m trying to see if the mortals have come up with any new depictions of me.” Keqing scrolled through the images that popped up when she searched up Ferthur.

There were cartoons and drawings, along with pictures of statues from her shrines. In all of the images, she was a young woman with long, wispy white hair, with a small face and pink eyes that had heart-shaped pupils. Not at all what she looked like, and it seemed nothing had changed since what she’d last seen a few hundred years ago. The only thing that seemed to be accurate was the bow and arrow in her hands in all of these pictures, although the arrows lacked the heart-shaped tip.

After all these years, she still couldn’t figure out who had been the one to first draw her with white hair and pink eyes. Ever since then, it was as if the image of her to the mortals had been finalized permanently. Whoever it was, they’d created a false image that she had to live with forever.

“Oh, this is new.” Keqing tapped on an image of a person wearing a costume with a white wig and a fake bow and arrow. “They’ve started dressing up as me for the Ghost Festival.”

“What are they wearing?” Ai asked, frowning as she peered closer at the screen. “It looks a little inappropriate.”

“It honestly looks like a bikini top with a really short skirt.” Keqing laughed as she saw another version of a costume. It was another revealing outfit. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting when I searched my name up.”

“Okay, but this costume has a bird on her shoulder.” Ai nodded in approval. “It’s red. You should reach out to the creator and tell them it’s supposed to be pink.”

“How about you try it and see how they respond?” Keqing held back a laugh as Ai frowned. “See if they’ll take the advice of a stranger.”

Ai huffed as she leaned back on the couch with her arms crossed. “You know, now’s not the time to be laughing at this. You should be searching up your mortal name. You’re the talk of the town again.”

Keqing raised a brow as she tapped on the keyboard on the screen. It took a while as she had to type with one finger, but she was still improving. “Okay, let’s see what it is this time.”

As soon as she hit the search bar, there were many images and news articles that instantly popped up. This time, they were grainy pictures of her and Ganyu that were taken in the dark. It had to be from last night, when Ganyu was waiting with Keqing for her ride.

One of the pictures was Keqing and Ganyu giving each other a thumbs-up.

Ai started to laugh. “Learning what the thumbs-up meant really changed your life, didn’t it? It’s become your favorite thing.”

“It’s a very useful way to express yourself,” said Keqing, scrolling past the articles that were talking about the new images.

The article titles were ridiculous, saying things like, “Ganyu and Co-Star Keqing’s Late Night Bonding,” “Ganyu and Keqing: New Romance Blooming?” and her personal favorite read, “GANYU AND KEQING: Wishing we were the lamppost so we could hear what they were talking about late at night.”

“They’ve got it all wrong,” Keqing muttered. “We’re supposed to be finding Ganyu a match. Why do these mortals think we could be together, based on pictures alone?”

“We’ll never know the ways of mortals. But I’m more concerned about the Higher Rulers back home somehow finding out about these rumors. They’re getting out of hand now,” Ai said, clucking her tongue. “It’d be a violation of a whole variety of laws.”

Keqing bit her lip as she lowered her phone onto her lap. It was a valid concern, of course. She knew it was. Celestia had its fair share of strict rules for the gods to follow. One of the main themes in the Heavenly Principles, inscribed over and over again, was how gods were not to take part in their services with other gods, or even those from the mortal realm they personally knew. It was a rule that had existed since the beginning of time. An ancient rule that was unpopular among many—but as unpopular and nonsensical as it was, it had to be followed.

Some believed that such a rule had come to be after a few of the very first deities had gotten into a terrible altercation over a god offering their own services to another, but not to a jealous goddess. She became even more jealous and ended up murdering the god who’d withheld his services. The Higher Rulers had supposedly feared the power that came with bias, which interfered with all sorts of rationality.

The problem here was that Keqing was the Goddess of Love. Love being her area of expertise meant that she was not allowed to engage in romantic relationships with others. It counted as an act of service under her blessing, and when she took part in it personally, it violated the Heavenly Principles. Technically, even trying using her matchmaker services for Ganyu now after getting to know her could be seen as a violation, but it could be done privately enough so that nobody would find out.

It was quite cursed, actually. To be such a hopeless romantic and be forbidden from loving another. But after millenia of being alone, this was what Keqing was used to. Being by herself was all she’d ever known.

“But Ganyu and I are not in love. The kiss was staged, even. It’s all fake.”

“I know. But these articles make it seem like you two could have something going on, though.” Ai sighed. “And we know the gods love to gossip. Who knows how long it’ll take until it reaches the ears of the higher-ups.”

“I’ll be more careful.”

Ai eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not actually falling for Ganyu, are you?”

“Of course not,” Keqing replied, frowning. “We’re in the mortal realm for a reason. We’re going to find her someone who’s immortal and we’ll be done.”

“Let’s get to work, then,” Ai said, sounding determined. “We’ll match her and get back to Celestia as soon as we can before anyone raises alarm.”

“We can do this.”

“When you said you wanted to come to the mortal realm, I thought it’d be a quick and easy process to find Ganyu a match.” Ai sighed as she crossed her legs. “Who knew it’d turn into such a high-profile mess.”

“Most gods aren’t too nosy, though. They know I’m not allowed to love anyone, so I doubt we should worry too much about it.”

Ai gave her a look. “Are we talking about the same gods? The gods that backstab each other and gossip about the most useless things? Isn’t this why you haven’t been to any of the events held in Celestia in so long?”

“Allow me to be optimistic, Ai,” Keqing said, shaking her head as she turned her attention to her phone.

This time, she was making a search for immortals in Liyue to distract herself from her worries. Thinking of the possibility of the Higher Rulers finding out about this situation was starting to give her a headache. The Higher Rulers were also known as the Divine Elders, the three ancient gods who had the most power in Celestia. While kind in nature, they enforced the laws strictly with no exceptions.

But the Elders also went into periods of dormancy, although the timing was never revealed to the other gods. Since the Elders lived in a closed off cave underground to preserve the energy of their spirits, there was no definite way of knowing if they were active or not.

Keqing had never even seen them for herself, only heard rumors about other gods’ interactions with them. Interactions that never seemed to go too well in their favor. Keqing shuddered as she recalled the stories she’d heard. All she could do now was hope they were dormant now. She’d do her best to finish this mission quickly before word could get around to them.

It would be a difficult task, but it also wasn’t the first time she’d secretly done things that broke the Heavenly Principles without the Elders finding out. No god in Celestia had a clean record. When the Elders were quite literally in the dark, it was easy to sneak things past them. But the consequences of getting caught were not something she wanted to even think about.

She had faith in her tasks, along with her ability to work without getting caught by the Elders. What Ai had suggested about her falling for Ganyu was utterly ridiculous. Ganyu was beautiful, sure, with a sweet personality. This only meant that Keqing would have to find an immortal lover who would be just as good of a human. An immortal with good looks, a kind temperament, and just as much success as Ganyu did. A fitting lover, making them two shining stars.

The problem would only be having to find such a person.

Chapter Text

Keqing was already scheduled to be back on the set—but for the last time. As a minor role, it seemed as if there weren’t more scenes to film, although at this point, her role had risen from its initial trivial status.

The way the director incorporated the aftermath of the kiss scene was all over the place, to say the least. She and Ganyu were instructed to act like the kiss never happened, with both of their characters agreeing that it hadn’t meant anything at all. It was frustrating to see how this story was playing out, how these characters were such fools. Was it so hard to just love each other and live happily? Mortals seemed to waste so much precious time in their fleeting lives.

With Ganyu’s character starting her self-discovery and self-love journey, Keqing’s role served less of a purpose. And it worried her, how her time with Ganyu was quickly slipping out of her hands, all while she hadn’t seen her matchmaking efforts come to a successful finish. But last night, after searching with Ai, they’d found a good number of immortals who lived in Liyue, although there was something off about each of them.

One of them had a social media post where they were specifically bashing Ganyu, which, of course, wouldn’t work out too well. Keqing sensed a great deal of jealousy there, with Ganyu achieving immense fame and success with her many years, while they hadn’t. The comment this person had made nitpicked at Ganyu’s recent outfit at an event, saying how it seemed too extravagant and showy.

Except it wasn’t “too extravagant” or “showy” at all. It was a dark-blue dress with many small jewels embedded in it, and the bottom of it was long enough to trail behind her. To Keqing, it was a wonderful dress, one that made Ganyu’s eyes seem like they were sparkling even more. Ganyu’s hair was even in an elegant bun with a braid around her head, which seemed to complete the look. She looked beautiful in those pictures, like the famous star that she was.

Another potential immortal had been crossed out from their list because this lady had an immense love for spice. Every day, she posted a new recipe for a spicy dish on a social media account dedicated to her cooking. Knowing that Ganyu disliked spice, Keqing couldn’t help but worry about what would happen if she gave her such a match. Who knew if this woman would accidentally slip some spices into Ganyu’s dishes and unknowingly feed them to her? It was a future full of stomachaches that she wished to spare Ganyu from.

The list went on and on. One didn’t like Qingxin, another hated rain, and there was one immortal who seemed to be running an online hate account directed towards Morax. And while conflicting interests weren’t such a dealbreaker, Keqing preferred setting Ganyu up with someone whose interests wouldn’t totally clash with hers.

That was what Ganyu deserved. Someone who would treat her to heaps and heaps of Qingxin, someone who would enjoy the rainy days with her, and someone who would listen to her talk about Morax without butting in with their hate. Ganyu had a sweet, pure soul. She deserved someone just like that too.

There was one immortal woman who was from adeptal descent who could possibly be right for Ganyu. It was a woman named Lanxi, someone that Ai found after sneaking into a group chat dedicated to immortals. Lanxi was a best-selling author who’d written twenty-five self-help books, based on her experiences from living for a few thousand years.

Keqing found a great deal of random information about Lanxi from her articles containing interviews that were posted online. Lanxi liked taking walks in gardens and beaches, and reading books as she listened to birds chirping above her. She also had taken a liking to the taste of Qingxin, saying it was one of her favorite things in the world. Lanxi loved dogs, even mentioning once that one of her favorite dogs she’d seen online was the one Ganyu owned.

These all had to be very good signs. Keqing hadn’t even realized that Ganyu even had a dog. It took a quick search online to find that it was a big, fluffy white dog named Yun, whose eyes looked like they were begging for treats in every picture she saw. There were pictures of Ganyu hugging Yun, and they were nearly the same height when the dog was standing. It was surprising, but somewhat endearing.

Keqing was currently scrolling through the pictures on Lanxi’s social media account when she heard someone call her name. She looked up to see Ganyu waving at her from the door of the cabin, which was a sign that the scene that Ganyu had filmed with the twins had just ended.

“How’d it go?” Keqing asked, waving back as she walked towards the entrance to the cabin.

She saw two blonde heads pop up above Ganyu’s shoulders. Lumine grinned as she said, “Hey, Keqing. We’re ready for you.”

“It went well,” Ganyu answered, glancing up to lower two of Aether’s fingers, which were sticking out from the top of her head like bunny ears. “Alright, Aether. You’ve been pulling the same tricks for the past ten years.”

“Never gets old.” Aether grinned as he wiggled his eyebrows. “So, tell us, you two. What were you doing last night that caused such a commotion again?”

“She was just waiting for my ride to arrive,” Keqing said, shuffling past the door and turning around to face them. She noticed how wary the twins looked. “That is the complete truth.”

“I believe you.” Lumine sighed. “I didn’t expect anything more, honestly.”

“Ganyu’s so caring.” Aether dramatically sniffed as he patted her shoulder. “But it’s kind of funny how everyone is making such a big deal about you two.”

“Ah…” Ganyu looked at Keqing with a clear sense of hesitation. “I didn’t expect anyone to be out there late at night taking pictures. Paparazzi can be intense. You have all my apologies.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Keqing replied, although she was internally wincing as she thought of the possible consequences if word spread around quickly in Celestia, as well. “I’ve realized people are pretty nosy.”

“Definitely.” Ganyu gave her a small smile, and it was at this point that Keqing realized she hadn’t felt her face get warm today as she recalled their kiss.

Except she’d broken that streak just now as she felt her gaze drift towards Ganyu’s lips as she smiled.

So much for a small victory. Keqing cleared her throat as she averted her gaze to Lumine, who was looking back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Has Director Wu said anything about retakes for the kiss?” Lumine asked, laughing as Ganyu gave her a look. “What? I’m just asking.”

“He was very pleased with the outcome,” Ganyu answered. “There will be no retakes. Today’s Keqing’s last day on the set, anyway.”

“It’s already the last day for us too,” Aether said, shaking his head with a sigh. “It’s a shame. I feel like we only just got here.”

“We’ll definitely have to celebrate the most we can later tonight.” Lumine let out a small cheer. “Today’s the big dinner you mentioned last time, isn’t it? The one that happens every week?”

Ganyu nodded. “Oh, right. Keqing, I forgot to mention. They moved that dinner to today, since it’s the last day of filming for you three.”

At the mention of the dinner, the only thing going through Keqing’s mind was the disaster from last week, when she’d fallen asleep in Ganyu’s arms. But today, she’d taken a three-hour nap before arriving on set, hoping that it would be enough, but she wasn’t sure if she’d last until late in the evening again.

She would just have to hope for the best.

“You don’t have to go, of course, if you don’t want to,” added Ganyu, her eyes warm and kind.

But today was important. It was her last day with Ganyu, which meant she had to squeeze out every bit of information to determine if Lanxi would be a good match for her.

With a deep breath, Keqing said, “I’ll go.”

There was a dramatic round of applause that the twins gave her, and Ganyu also swayed her hands in the air in a small celebration.

“You won’t be passing out on me again?” Ganyu asked, amused.

Keqing laughed. “Let’s hope not.”

“I’ll carry you this time if that happens. We’ll see if we make the headlines,” said Lumine jokingly, all while Aether lightly punched her arm. “What? People on the internet would make a big deal out of it too.”

“I think those two went viral precisely because of who they are. You wouldn’t go viral if you were in the same situation.”

Ganyu hugged Lumine, who walked up to her first with arms spread apart. “What do you mean by that, Aether? I think she has plenty of potential to go viral.”

Keqing was entertained by their conversation, but she was hit with a reality check when she felt a yawn pass through her lips. And just like that, the energy drain had started to hit her once more.

It was time to hope that her future didn’t hold any instances of her passing out in people’s arms. Especially in the arms of someone she’d just kissed the day before.

➵ ✩

“And we’re done!” Lumine said, breathing out a sigh of relief at the conclusion of the scene.

It was a sweet scene where their characters were saying goodbye to each other on the trip, one that they had to retake a few times because of a few lines that Keqing kept messing up. She also yawned a good amount of times, which at this point, all of the staff seemed to be getting used to. The director had the most unfazed expression throughout it all as he called for retakes with every one of her yawns.

Ganyu was understanding as well, although each time, she would look at Keqing with worried eyes that seemed to say, “Please take care of yourself.” Ganyu probably thought she lived off of two hours of sleep every night.

“Good work, everyone.” Ganyu smiled, then turned to Keqing with a thumbs-up. “You too, Keqing. You’ve done amazing for your movie debut.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you,” Keqing said, returning the thumbs-up. “I learned from the best.”

Ganyu laughed softly. “You flatter me.”

“It is nothing but the truth.”

“I’m really happy to hear that you’ll be joining us for dinner later. I’ll be sending you a text later with the address if you need it.”

“Yes, please.” Keqing watched as Ganyu pulled out her phone, her golden rings glinting under the bright lights in the cabin. “No rush, though.”

Ganyu glanced up with a sheepish expression. “Please excuse me. My manager is bothering me with some questions.”

Director Wu came walking over with a grin on his face. “Aether and Lumine, we’ll miss having you on set! Tremendous job as always.” He gave them a pat on the shoulder before making his way to her. “Thank you for all your hard work so far, Keqing. It’s been a pleasure having you with us.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Keqing said, her gaze slightly drifting behind him to see many of the staff looking towards them. While some seemed to have curious eyes, others seemed judgmental. She remembered the rumors Amber told her about—the circumstances of how she’d stumbled upon this position as an actress no one had ever heard of before.

Such ridiculous rumors. She had to hold back a laugh at the thought of them as she shook Director Wu’s hands. It would be awfully entertaining to be able to listen to what others were thinking about her.

Later on, as Keqing was sitting in the trailer and getting her wig and makeup taken off by Amber, she felt the buzz of new texts in her hand.

There were two of them. One was from Morax asking about what was going on with her and Ganyu, and he was asking for her to call him sometime so they could discuss recent matters. Of course he’d seen the news. It involved a major actress who was working on a movie for his company. Keqing was already dreading this conversation, as she already knew it would be like getting a lecture from her late grandfather.

The other text was sent to her by Ganyu (from “Live for Me”). It had the address linked in it, along with: See you soon! ☺️

Technology was amazing, for her to be receiving this interesting form of a smile through texts like this.

Keqing typed out her response slowly, something that went along the lines of, “Thank you and I will see you soon,” but she struggled to find a similar smiley face to send to Ganyu.

With a defeated sigh, she asked, “Amber, can you help me?”

“Of course. With what?”

“Sending a smile to someone.”

Amber stepped closer to her phone with a curious look. “Um… What?”

“Ganyu sent me a smile, so I’d like to send one back.”

“Oh. An emoji.” Amber reached over to tap something on her phone. “There you go. Just choose out of the hundreds of emojis here.” Then she paused. “Wait… How do you not know what an emoji is?”

“That’s a very good question,” Keqing said as she scrolled through the pages of all sorts of these so-called emojis. “I used to have one of those old phones. The flip ones.”

Amber gasped. “I didn’t know those still worked.”

“Oh, they do, alright,” Keqing lied, having no idea whatsoever. She’d only ever seen those phones in an old movie Ganyu had starred in. She hadn’t expected Amber to believe her terrible excuse, but she wasn’t going to question it. “Well, thank you for letting me know about these emojis. These will be very useful.”

“There’s one that I think you might find useful,” Amber said, pointing at the corner of her screen. “It’s a kissy face with a heart.”

Keqing looked at the emoji. Although it was cute with the tiny red heart by its lips, she frowned. “I don’t need this.”

“Really?”

“This looks like an emoji that couples would use to flirt.”

“That’s exactly it.”

Keqing met Amber’s gaze through the mirror. “Oh, Ganyu and I aren’t like that.”

Amber’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I guess I made the assumption after hearing all the recent rumors.”

Keqing sighed. “I can’t blame you for that, honestly.” It seemed like the world believed something was going on between her and Ganyu. If even Morax—who barely cared for mortal gossip—had caught onto it, she knew the other gods had to know about it, as well.

The felt a slight chill as she thought about whether the Divine Elders would find out soon enough, if they were not in dormancy as she feared. But she willed herself to calm down. If she were to ever be summoned, it would be easy to prove that she’d never had a romantic relationship with Ganyu. The Divine Elders would sense her sincerity, as they were blessed with the ability to discern the truth.

But the problem came with the possibility of them finding out that she had been spending her matchmaking efforts on Ganyu. It wasn’t right to be providing services to anyone she knew personally. Getting close to Ganyu had never been the plan, but… Things had turned out in such a way.

As long as the Elders were unaware of it all, there was nothing to be worried about. That was what Keqing would keep telling herself as she carried out this mission that quite literally had her risking her reputation among the other gods. If they were to see the headlines, what would go through their heads? Would they curl their lip and look down on her for causing such drama in the mortal realm?

“Are you okay?” Amber asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“I’m fine.” Keqing blinked and turned her attention back to her phone. She slowly typed a response back, thanking Ganyu for the address, along with a cute smiley-face emoji. She then set down her phone on the counter and gave Amber a smile. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for me so far.”

“Of course!” Amber took a seat beside her. “It’s been an honor to work with you. I hope to see you again in a future project.”

“That’d be absolutely wonderful,” Keqing replied, her mind starting to drift off to what it would be like if this had truly been her life as a mortal. Would she make it big as an actress, or would she be in a one-hit wonder and be forgotten right after?

Would she only be remembered for the rumors that were tied to her and Ganyu? This seemed like the likely answer, especially considering the fact that she would soon be finished with her mission and be back home in Celestia. She wondered what the mortals would think of the girl who briefly appeared in a movie with top actress Ganyu, only to never show up again.

Ai had already planned out various stories that could be told to the media outlets after their departure. There was one where Keqing had decided to move with her family to be a farmer out in the countryside, leaving the movie scene after her one and only film. Or another story where Keqing gave up on worldly possessions and left to live in the woods, embarking on a journey to reach self-actualization. Whatever Ai came up with, they all sounded a little too ridiculous.

Keqing simply wanted to disappear without explanation. She didn’t owe one to these mortals, after all. But seeing Amber so hopeful to see her again one day… It was enough to make her second-guess that thought.

➵ ✩

Later that evening, after taking an extensive nap, Keqing was dropped off in front of the restaurant with Ganyu’s black jacket in her hands. It was a big building in the shape of a sphere, with windows dotting its sides. Pretty fitting for its name, which was Round Paradise.

As she walked in, it took her eyes quite some time to adjust to the darkness. There were circular tables throughout, along with a mini stage with a mic to the side. A staff member was currently standing on the stage, singing a song while colorful lights were sweeping across him and the tables. It sounded like a ballad, although the bright rainbow lights made the atmosphere seem happy.

Keqing was staring in confusion at the singing boy, wondering if she was even at the right place, when she felt a tug on her wrist. She turned around to see Lumine, her bright eyes filled with excitement.

“You made it! I have come to steal you away to our table,” Lumine said, grinning as she pulled Keqing towards the other side. “Good performance, right? This place is big on karaoke. You should try later if you’d like.”

“I’m not much of a singer, actually,” Keqing said, her gaze flitting past all the small tables they were quickly passing by. “What about you? Did you sing a song yet?”

“No. But I’ve been trying to convince Aether to sing one for us,” Lumine answered, suddenly coming to a halt.

Keqing nearly collided with her, but she stopped just in time. She peeked over Lumine’s shoulder to see the table with a few familiar faces. Ganyu was here, along with Aether, and Shenhe. She’d never spoken to Shenhe before, but she supposed she’d find out what the girl was like today.

“I’ve brought the star of the day,” Lumine said, stepping aside and gesturing towards the empty seat next to Ganyu. “You can sit there. We’ve already ordered a variety of dishes.”

Keqing waved as she sat down, then slightly raised a hand with the jacket. “Hi! This is for you. Thank you again for letting me use it that day.”

“Oh, of course.” Ganyu smiled as she took the jacket into her hands, placing it on her lap. “Thanks for returning it. I’ve lost a good amount of things after lending them to people.”

“They probably stole them to sell your goods on some online stores. Auctioning for the highest bidder,” Aether said, shaking his head. “It’s a shame.”

There was a sudden high-pitched microphone noise that came from the direction of the boy singing, and Keqing flinched. From his mouth came a stream of apologies, and he stepped off the stage in embarrassment while the slow instrumental music continued to play.

“Poor guy.” Lumine watched as he walked to his seat. “That’s the walk of shame he did right there.”

“Have you met Shenhe yet?” Ganyu asked. “You two haven’t actually been on the set together, so I’m assuming not.”

“Oh, I haven’t.” Keqing smiled at Shenhe. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Keqing.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’ve heard lots about you.” Shenhe smiled back at her warmly. “From Ganyu, along with the internet.”

“You don’t want to know many of my friends have asked whether those two are really dating or not,” Aether said, making a noise of exasperation. “I don’t know why they think I’d have any information.”

“It’s hard to understand how they believe so easily based on those pictures alone,” Keqing said, sparing a small glance at Ganyu. “We weren’t even holding hands or anything.”

Ganyu looked apologetic. “People will find a way to talk, no matter what, it seems.”

“There’s a new rumor that’s going around, that you two were dating already before getting on the set.” Lumine’s eyes danced between her and Ganyu. “Since Keqing is a new actress, they’re saying that’s how she got the role in the movie.”

“So many rumors.” Keqing sighed. “Have you all heard about the ones about me and Director Wu?”

“That was one of the first ones I heard,” Lumine said with a small laugh. “Director Wu is married, though. If anything, he’s the most loyal man I’ve ever seen. Although the one thing he loves more than his wife is probably money.”

“Those rumors are so baseless and damaging, especially since you’re just starting your career,” Ganyu said, her brows furrowing. “I could try to look into getting those words off the internet. My manager has some good connections.”

“It’s alright. Really.” Keqing offered Ganyu a smile, hoping it would be enough to clear the concern off her face. “I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to act again, anyway.”

“Have you met Xiao?” Lumine asked, then she backpedaled as if the rest of the words had been processed just now. “Wait. This is your first and last movie?”

Ganyu’s brows seemed to furrow even more. “Your last?”

“This has been a wonderful experience, of course,” Keqing said, brightly smiling at everyone. Even Shenhe and Aether seemed confused. “It’s just that… I feel as if I have a calling elsewhere.”

“That’s a shame.” Aether clucked his tongue. “Even though you’re a newbie, you’re pretty good.”

Lumine sighed loudly, her lips curving downwards. “I won’t pry and ask what you’re going to do next, but I’m sure you’ll do great, whatever it is. And we’ll miss you.”

Keqing was starting to feel awkward under everyone’s gaze. She reached out for her glass of water and brought it to her lips. “I’ll miss you all too. This has been so unforgettable.”

There was a soft noise next to them, and she turned to see a waiter setting down a big tray of all their dishes. He placed noodles, soup, and a variety of meat and vegetable dishes on their table. But one plate stood out in particular, and it had a wave of excitement flooding through her as the familiar scent drifted into her nose.

“Golden Shrimp Balls,” Keqing murmured, her eyes widening as she eyed the dish.

“I heard from your manager that you loved them,” Ganyu said softly. “The one time I met her after dropping you off.”

The night Keqing had passed out. She slightly cringed at the memory and looked at Ganyu, who was staring back at her with some kind of emotion she couldn’t recognize. “Oh, really?”

“I wanted to order dishes you’d actually like,” Ganyu replied.

Keqing recalled the last time they were at a restaurant, when Ganyu had noticed that she hadn’t eaten at all. “You’re awfully considerate. Thank you. I haven’t tried this dish in forever.”

“Dig in, everyone!” Aether grinned. “Since this is Keqing’s first and last movie, let this be a dinner we won’t forget for the rest of our lives.”

Keqing eyed the round, crispy shrimp balls as she placed a few onto her plate. Even though her appetite as a god was lesser than that of a mortal, seeing this dish was causing a force to awaken inside of her. She felt as if she could even finish all of the Golden Shrimp Balls if she wanted. How long had it been since she’d eaten such a delicacy?

The first bite was everything, just like how she remembered. The flavor was melting right into her mouth, and she happily sighed. There was fitting music playing at that moment, as well, and when she looked at the karaoke stage, she was surprised to see Amber. Amber was singing a cheerful song, and she grinned with a wave towards Keqing when their eyes met.

Keqing smiled at her in return. Amber had been nothing but kind to her ever since they met, and for that, she was grateful. She only wished nothing but good things for Amber’s future. Perhaps Amber had a lover to add joy to her life, as well. It was what she deserved.

“Is it to your liking?” Ganyu asked, her gaze resting upon her expectantly.

Keqing nodded, closing her eyes in contentment. “Amazing. Quite the best that I’ve ever had in decades, if I’m being honest.”

“Decades.” Lumine raised a brow at her.

“It’s like there’s another Ganyu here with us,” Aether said teasingly, glancing up as he cut some food on his plate.

Keqing laughed, though her laughter came slipping out of her nerves. “It was meant to be a joke. I’ve heard my parents say it so often.”

“I do not talk like that,” Ganyu said, and Shenhe snorted. “You don’t think so, Shenhe?”

Shenhe, who seemed to be pretty reserved, finally spoke up. “You have a way with your words that emphasizes the many years of your life, that’s all. It’s not such a bad thing.”

“She’s basically saying you talk like an old person,” Lumine added, cracking a grin. “But that’s not such a bad thing at all. We’re used to it.”

Keqing continued to eat quietly, feeling relieved that the attention had shifted off of her. She still remembered the embarrassment she felt as she talked to Ganyu the night before. It was something that she was trying not to repeat, for the sake of her own fragile heart.

“Oh. We didn’t hear what Keqing had to say earlier about meeting Xiao.” Aether turned to her with a curious expression. “Have you?”

Xiao. The name did not ring a bell. “I haven’t. Who is that?”

“He’s my manager,” Ganyu said, right as Aether answered, “Ganyu’s scary manager.”

“He’s not that scary,” Shenhe chimed in.

“Shenhe, that’s because you and Xiao give off the same intimidating vibes. It must cancel out when you’re with each other,” said Lumine, which won her a baffled look from Shenhe.

“He isn’t scary.” Ganyu gave Aether a look. “What about all the times he’s done so many favors for you?”

“He’s intimidating, but he has a soft side when you get to know him.” Lumine sighed. “I mean, I get it. He’s been through a lot like Ganyu, being immortal and all.”

Keqing’s eyes widened a fraction. “He’s immortal?”

“Do you ever remember learning about the Yakshas in history class?” Aether asked. “He’s a Yaksha. Longtime friend of Ganyu’s.”

“We worked together under Rex Lapis,” Ganyu explained to Keqing. “There were a lot of circumstances that led to him working as my manager, but he enjoys it. A different pace of life compared to our past.”

“I wonder if he really does enjoy it,” Aether said jokingly, and Ganyu gave him another look. “I’m kidding. You have the best manager to ever exist, despite how scary he is. We all know this.”

Keqing watched in amusement. It was interesting to see this side of Ganyu, with Aether testing her with his relentless teasing. She knew of the Yakshas, considering their prominence during the Archon War, but she hadn’t paid much attention to each of their names before. It was a bit of a relief to her to hear that Ganyu had an immortal manager, someone who’d be able to remain by her side throughout the centuries.

“Ganyu!” Director Wu was standing on the karaoke stage, waving his hand in the air. “Would you sing for us?”

Ganyu seemed to freeze in the middle of drinking water. She set down her glass and called back, “I’ll pass. I wouldn’t like to ruin everyone’s meal.”

There was some laughter that echoed around the room, and Director Wu gave her a pleading look. “But you’re the star of our movie.”

“Would you like me to shut him up for you?” Shenhe asked calmly, in a voice that was low enough for only them to hear.

Keqing almost choked on the piece of the shrimp she was swallowing. It was a side to Shenhe she hadn’t been expecting at all. Shenhe had the most blank expression through it all, and Ganyu looked like she was holding back a smile.

“Ganyu,” Director Wu said, pouting his lips. “You sang for us a few times before. It was very nice.”

“Why’s he making that face? I’m about to lose my appetite,” Lumine muttered, and Aether loudly laughed.

“I’ll go in her stead,” Keqing offered, standing up abruptly. All eyes turned to her. “If that would be alright.”

Director Wu grinned and gestured towards the stage. “Of course! Come on up, Keqing!”

Ganyu reached over to grasp Keqing’s wrist. “Wait. You don’t have to.”

Keqing glanced down at her wrist, her attention catching on the warmth of Ganyu’s fingers. “I really don’t mind. I haven’t tried karaoke before.”

“But I feel quite bad,” Ganyu said as she also stood up. “I’ll go with you.”

Some people started to clap, and there were also some whistles. Keqing knew for sure that there was someone out there taking pictures of this moment, and probably even videos of whatever song they would be singing. There would be headlines that she’d end up reading with Ai the next day, for sure, which would only result in her hoping nobody misunderstood.

Of course, everyone would misunderstand.

But what was she going to do? Sit down and reject Ganyu’s offer altogether? That’d be embarrassing for them both, especially after making it seem like they were going to sing. Keqing also found it hard to give up on this when her mind still was hung up on Ganyu’s grip on her wrist.

“I don’t know too many songs very well,” Keqing admitted.

“We can find one that the both of us will know.” Ganyu let go of her wrist and walked with her towards the direction of the small stage.

Keqing ran her fingers over her wrist as she followed after Ganyu. Their table cheered loudly for them, and as she walked past Amber’s table, the girl gave her a supportive grin.

There was a small device with numbers that was handed to them, which Keqing had no idea had to work. But Ganyu took control of it, facing the big television across the room that showed a long list of songs.

“What song would you be able to sing?” Ganyu asked as she tapped on the remote, scrolling down through the list.

Keqing wasn’t much of a music lover, which meant her choices were limited to songs that were quite dated. She wasn’t even sure if the people here would know them.

“Do you know the song Lovers’ Oath?”

Ganyu looked at her in surprise. “That’s an ancient classic, yes.”

Keqing held back a smile when she heard “ancient.” “Do you think they’ll have it in the system here?”

“They should.” Ganyu hit a few buttons on the remote as she searched up the song name. “They do.”

“Let’s do it.”

The people watching them cheered at the song selection, giving whoops and whistles again. The slow orchestral music started to play in the background, and Ganyu tilted her head towards Keqing with a nod. Keqing raised the mic to her lips to begin singing the lines. Although the lyrics were displayed on the screen, she had them completely memorized.

“When the days grow dark and dreary, I promise to be by your side,” Keqing sang, and her voice cracked in the beginning, but Ganyu gave her a reassuring smile. “My love for you will stay, though the world tries to break it with all its might.”

Keqing handed the mic to Ganyu, who took it and sang the next lines, “When our hair turns gray and thin, I promise to be by your side. Nothing could ever dampen my feelings, my heart does not know how to hide.”

Ganyu’s voice was soft and sweet to the ears. Next was the chorus, and Ganyu stepped closer to Keqing and placed the mic between them to sing together. Ganyu gave her another bright smile, which brought attention to her pretty lips, and now Keqing was staring once more. She quickly looked towards the people watching them as they sang the next part.

The chorus was hopeful, continuing the meaning of the song about pledging one’s life to a lover. Their audience sang the words along with them, some even waving their phones in the air with the flashlight on. It took Keqing by surprise to hear people singing along, but perhaps it was due to it being such an “ancient classic.”

The rest of the song went smoothly, with no more voice cracks from Keqing. The two of them were even able to harmonize through the chorus after getting a sense of each other’s pitches. It made the song seem even more beautiful.

This song had been her favorite from her mortal years prior to her ascension, but the lyrics hit her harder now as a god. She wished to know what love was like for herself as it was described in this song, to have someone to pledge the rest of her life. To have someone that would make her fall asleep quicker, at peace knowing her lover was by her side, as the song described.

When the song finished and their audience cheered for them, Ganyu gave her a thumbs-up with a grin. “That was great.”

“All thanks to you,” Keqing said, giving her a thumbs-up in return. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Oh, you’re way too kind.” Ganyu held her gaze for a moment before glancing away, but Keqing could see her cheeks turning slightly pink.

As they made their way back to the table, Keqing saw that Shenhe and the twins were standing up to clap for them. Shenhe smiled and lowered her head to whisper something in Ganyu’s ear. Seeing them like that, it seemed to accentuate Shenhe’s height even more.

“Great song choice!” Lumine said, catching her attention. “You two did amazing.”

“I’m about to get even more texts from people tomorrow about you two,” Aether said, glancing at his phone. “Maybe I should just shut my phone off for the next couple days.”

The consequences of their actions would await tomorrow. Keqing sat back in her seat as she contemplated what she’d just done. Would this bite her in the butt soon? Most likely.

Ganyu briefly mentioned something about going with Shenhe to the bathroom, so it was just Keqing left with the twins at the table. She began to wonder how she could ask the twins if they knew anything about Ganyu’s romantic preferences.

“Is there something you want to say?” Lumine finally asked, raising a brow. “Your glances aren’t so sneaky.”

“You can ask us anything.” Aether leaned forward in interest. “Is it about Ganyu? We can tell you it all.”

Lumine elbowed his side. “Where is your loyalty?”

“I’m very loyal,” said Aether, crossing his arms. “But feel free to ask away. Would you like to know if Ganyu’s single? Because she is.”

“You need to be quiet,” Lumine said, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you go and sing us a song on that stage, Aether?”

“No, no. This is a very important conversation to have.” Aether cleared his throat. “Ask whatever’s on your mind, Keqing.”

Keqing didn’t expect it to be this easy. “Has Ganyu ever said anything to you about her type?”

“Honestly, not really.” Lumine tapped her chin with her index finger. “But we’ve known her since we were little. She surrounds herself with kind people, those who have bright personalities. I’d assume she’d want such qualities in her lover.”

“You have those qualities,” Aether said, and Lumine sighed loudly. “What?”

“You’re just being obnoxious.” Lumine gave him a glare before turning back to Keqing.

Keqing looked at Aether in confusion. “I’m not asking for myself.”

Lumine blinked. “Then…?”

“I was just curious after seeing all those dates Ganyu went on a couple weeks ago,” Keqing said. “What would be the type for an immortal?”

Aether scratched his head. “Wait… You weren’t asking for yourself?”

“I honestly think someone like Ganyu would be happy with another immortal,” Lumine answered. “Unlike all of those dates she went on.”

“Oh, yeah. Those dates were out of nowhere. I know Xiao had a hard time doing damage control after those.” Aether shook his head. “Scary Xiao.”

So Keqing’s suspicions about Ganyu preferring someone immortal seemed to be correct. There was a good chance matching Ganyu with Lanxi would be successful.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course. I don’t think you should lose hope, though.” Aether grinned, and to Lumine he said, “I’m joking.”

They all came to an abrupt silence as they saw Ganyu and Shenhe sitting back down at the table. The only noise was coming from someone singing a loud pop song on the stage. Shenhe looked between them, asking, “Did we interrupt something?”

“Nope. We were just asking each other our favorite places in the world.” Lumine turned to Keqing. “What did you say yours was?”

Keqing felt a yawn about to escape her lips, and she silently swore as she remembered the energy drain. “Oh, mine? I’ve got to say it’s Luhua Pool.”

Aether’s eyebrows rose. “Luhua where?”

“Luhua Business District used to be known as Luhua Pool in ancient Liyue,” Ganyu said, and she looked at Keqing curiously. “I’m surprised you know of it.”

Keqing blinked back at her as she thought of a way to get herself out of this situation. “Ah. Yes. I saw it mentioned once in a history book.”

“It used to be very beautiful before they started constructing buildings over it,” Ganyu said, and the brightness in her eyes seemed to dim a bit. “It was a place I absolutely loved visiting. It’s a true shame.”

“Now I want to know what it used to look like,” Lumine said as she pulled up her phone.

Keqing felt a pang of sadness within her as she thought about what Ganyu was saying had become of Luhua Pool. It must have been a change within the past few hundred years, as it had been the same when she visited in her last trip down to the mortal realm. It had been a spot she often visited to clear her mind and feel at peace as she sat by the birds and frogs.

Now she was filled with regret over the missed opportunity to save such a treasured place of hers. It wasn’t like she had any powers to, but still. She was having a hard time believing that tall buildings now stood in place of the pretty area.

“All I see are paintings, but it does look gorgeous. The small ponds,” Lumine said, and Aether nodded in agreement. She turned the phone around to show them the screen. “Why would they destroy this?”

Shenhe sighed. “For money. What else? It’s a shame.”

Keqing was sitting there contemplating why she hadn’t ascended to become the Goddess of Time, just so she could go back and see her favorite areas that no longer existed. There were a lot of things she wished to rewind and see.

Like what she was doing right before her ascension. This was a memory that escaped her for reasons she couldn’t comprehend. Ai suspected that it was just a mishap that occurred with ascension. The tremendous effect on the body was correlated to developing a temporary memory issue. Approximately 10% of gods suffered from this issue, and considering Keqing’s luck, it made sense for her to fall under such a minority.

“Some people have already posted the video of you two singing Lovers’ Oath,” Aether said, glancing up from his phone. “It’s on the trending page again.”

It was what she’d been expecting, but not for it to happen so soon. “They couldn’t even wait until we all left and they got home?” Keqing asked as she tried to ignore the way her eyelids were starting to feel heavier. “Such impatience.”

“My apologies, once again,” Ganyu said.

“Not your fault at all.” Keqing had decided this for herself.

Alas, the night grew darker as the minutes swept by. Song after song that people sang (some terribly, some surprisingly well), Keqing felt her body getting closer to its shut-off point. After a while, she was so afraid of suddenly passing out that she said her goodbyes earlier than everyone else.

Luckily for her, she was able to safely make it back to her hotel without passing out in Ganyu’s arms again. On the car ride home, she decided it would be fitting to reply to Morax’s texts the next morning to see if he had any information. About the Elders, whether they were in dormancy or not, and what the others in Celestia seemed to think. Morax was a popular, well-liked god with many connections, after all.

It was time to put that old man to use.

Chapter Text

“About the recent news…”

“They’re all just rumors,” Keqing said as she rested her phone between her chin and her shoulder. “I am not dating Ganyu.”

“I figured as much. It is forbidden for you, after all,” Morax replied. “But there are gods in Celestia who are growing suspicious about your sudden appearance in the mortal realm.”

“That’s understandable. I will be back in Celestia to clear the air soon enough.” Keqing hesitated before asking, “What about the Higher Rulers? Any news on their activity?”

“There are some who believe that they are not in dormancy, but nobody has been in any contact with them lately. Are you worried?”

“A little bit. I’ve never actually been summoned by them after my ascension, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Morax hummed in response. “I will let you know if I hear anything related to their activity.”

Keqing paused. “You know, it’s kind of weird to hear you being so civil with me.”

Morax huffed. “Our interactions have always been civil, Ferthur.”

“That’s true, but it’s just…” Keqing trailed off. “Whatever. Thanks, old man. I didn’t even know that you favored Ai that much. What necklace do you have that is so precious?”

“It was a gift from a very good friend of mine who is no longer with us,” Morax replied, his voice growing just a tad bit quieter, unless she was imagining it. “I was very thankful to Ai. Speaking of, did she get a picture with Ganyu yet?”

Keqing frowned before remembering what her previous excuse to Morax had been for the necessity of her visit to the mortal realm. Although she had never mentioned a picture, he seemed to be assuming so. Such was the case when one had a jaded memory.

“Oh. Yes, she has.”

“Could you send it over sometime?”

Keqing sat up straight on the couch she was on. “What? Why?”

Morax chuckled. “I’d just like to see the results of your efforts that have caused such trouble for you. Was it worth it? You finished filming for your role, did you not?”

“I finished yesterday,” Keqing said. “It was worth it, yes.”

She wasn’t lying. She didn’t regret this visit to the mortals at all. She met her fair share of kind people, along with a memory of her first ever kiss that she’d never forget. A kiss that she still thought back to from time to time, but who could she blame but herself? As the Goddess of Love, she would never stop being a hopeless romantic.

The memories kept flooding back to her at random moments in time. Once, she was sipping on some tea in the morning as she watched the latest news on the television, and Ai took notice of her pink cheeks immediately. Keqing’s terrible excuse had been that the warmth of her drink had made her face hot, which Ai didn’t seem to buy.

Or another time when she was standing on the balcony of the room, and the memory had struck her out of the blue. Ai had walked out to stand next to her and enjoy the view of the pretty buildings and asked, “What’s got your face so pink this time?”

Keqing’s excuse? It was something that went along the lines of, “My body has started this strange habit. It happens during such random, unpredictable moments.”

Ai hadn’t bought the excuse at all, her brows quirking up, though saying nothing.

Morax’s voice interrupted her daydreaming. “Will you be returning to Celestia immediately?”

“Not right away. I have matters to take care of before going back.”

Morax was quiet for a moment. “Does this involve being a matchmaker for Ganyu?”

Keqing was baffled that he’d asked. She couldn’t say yes, because if she did, she’d be admitting to violating the Heavenly Principles. Using her services for a mortal after getting to know them would be considered an act of bias. She had a feeling he wouldn’t believe her if she said she hadn’t been expecting to get to know Ganyu as much as she did now. Things just hadn’t quite turned out in the way she hoped.

And what the other gods didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

Keqing snapped out of her thoughts, saying, “No, I am not doing anything of that nature.”

He didn’t seem fazed. “Do be careful, Ferthur.”

“I will,” she said. “Is that all?”

“That is all. You may hang up as you’ve been wishing to for the past ten minutes of this call,” Morax said, the amusement clear in his voice. “Take care.”

“You too,” Keqing said, and she held her phone away to tap on the red icon to finish the call. Then she stood up to glance around the living room, her eyes locating Ai, whose head was lowered as she looked at her phone. “We need to get you a picture with Ganyu. Morax wants to see one.”

Ai looked up from her phone with a frown. “What picture?”

“I don’t know. He asked if you’d taken one with Ganyu yet and I just said you did. So now, he wants to see it.”

Ai sighed loudly. “Oh, Keqing. Why must you lie?”

“I can’t have him catching on,” Keqing said, and she couldn’t help but nervously laugh. “Besides, did you hear him asking me if I was using my matchmaker services for Ganyu? He seems to be suspecting it.”

“You’re a pretty terrible liar,” Ai said. “He probably believes it now instead of just suspecting it.”

“No, don’t give that old man that much credit. As smart as he is, he’s a little gullible.” Keqing sighed. “We’ll have to get that picture sometime before we go back to Celestia.”

“Right. Are you setting up Ganyu and Lanxi today?”

“Well…”

“Keqing.” Ai gave her a look. “Let’s not push it off. Your risk of getting caught increases the longer you stay here.”

“I know, I know. I just want to confirm that it’s really a good match,” Keqing replied, waving a hand in the air. “It’ll be hard to come back here once we leave. So this better be the arrow that results in the perfect shot.”

Ai crossed her arms. “Okay. Fair point. I’m just going to hope you’re not lying to me.”

“I’m not.” Keqing started to make her way towards her room. “Get ready, though. We’re going to take a small adventure.”

“That doesn’t sound too good.” Ai stood up with a stretch. “Where to?”

“Luhua Pool—well, now it must be Luhua Business District.”

➵ ✩

There was really no valid reason for them to go to Luhua Business District, but Keqing wanted to see just how much it had changed. Now, as she stood right in the center of a busy street, she felt the regret of not having visited sooner before its drastic transformation.

“They got rid of all the pretty trees,” Ai said, clucking her tongue.

Keqing stared up at the tall, shiny buildings that towered over them. “I miss what it used to look like.”

“The last time we visited Luhua Pool was 542 years ago,” Ai said. “According to my knowledge, this area became modernized 152 years ago. It was favored for its location next to water, which meant efficient transportation, allowing it to become a popular trading hub.”

Keqing sighed as she walked past the buildings. Restaurants, stores, and bars were lined up on the entire street. One bar called Ancient Luhua caught her eye in particular. It seemed to be dimly lit, but she saw glowing structures inside that looked a lot like the ponds that used to be in Luhua Pool.

“Shall we go in?” Keqing asked, and Ai shrugged in response. “This could be a nice walk down memory lane.”

“Let’s hope you don’t end up disappointed,” Ai said, reaching over to adjust her beanie. “Better stay disguised.”

Keqing tugged the beanie over her purple hair. She wasn’t sure how much of a disguise it even offered her, and it wasn’t necessary since she wasn’t going to be seen with Ganyu in public. But Ai had insisted.

A worker was quick to greet them and lead them to the bar stools at the end of the room, where there was a large replica of the glowing blue-green ponds that once existed in Luhua Pool. Keqing sat and looked at the drinks menu, although she had no intention to try any. Ai was also happily looking at the list, even though she couldn’t drink at all. It was silly of them both.

“We’ll just order a couple random ones,” Keqing said. She glanced up to look at the ponds in front of them, which had green lily pads and tiny fish swimming in them. “This place is gorgeous.”

“It really is.” Ai pointed at something on the menu. “How about this one? Lotus Refreshers? It’s one of the few non-alcoholic drinks.”

“Sure. Whatever you desire.” Keqing glanced up when she heard loud, hearty laughter coming nearby. It was a tall lady with long brown hair who was laughing at something the worker was telling her. “That’s a presence you can’t miss.”

The lady began to walk over to them. “Welcome to Ancient Luhua! I haven’t seen your faces around here before.”

“Hi! We were just strolling by and wanted to drop in,” Ai said, peeking out from Keqing’s shoulder with a wave.

“It’s great to have you here! I’m Beidou, I own this place.” Beidou grinned as she placed a hand on her hip. Her bangs fell across her left eye, but her other eye had a glint of interest. “What can I get for you?”

Keqing stared at her as it clicked in her brain. Beidou’s familiar face made sense now, she’d seen it a few times when she was looking at pictures of Ganyu and her friends. This was also the lady who’d sent the prayer in, the one that started it all.

“Two Luhua Refreshers, please,” Keqing said, her gaze dancing over to Ai, who was looking at her in equal interest. It seemed she had also caught on. “Thank you, Beidou.”

“Of course! Coming right up.” Beidou walked behind the counter of the bar and began to shuffle around, grabbing different bottles. “Is this your first time in Luhua Business District?”

“Could you tell?”

“A little. With a bag as big as that one,” Beidou said, nodding towards Ai.

Ai patted her bag loudly. It was only holding a thick blanket with a pink bird design on it that she’d bought moments earlier. “I’ve got some precious goodies in here.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Beidou laughed. “How are you two liking it in Luhua?”

“Your bar is the only nice thing I’ve come across,” Keqing admitted, her gaze falling back to the pond in front of them. “What inspired you to incorporate these parts of what Luhua once was?”

“I have a friend who loves Luhua,” Beidou said, and Keqing’s mind immediately went to Ganyu. “I never really knew what it used to look like, but I fell in love with the images of it after she showed me. And then this place was born.”

“You did a great job here!” Ai said, earning her a grin from Beidou. “Do you own any other bars around here?”

“Just this one. I’ve contemplated opening new ones elsewhere, but I’m too attached to this place,” Beidou replied, her attention shifting behind them as she waved. “You’re here! Take a seat anywhere.”

Keqing felt a buzz in her pocket, and she pulled out her phone to see a text from Ganyu.

Ganyu (from “Live for Me”)
The tabloids are going at it again, just let me know if you think they’re too much. I can have my manager deal with them if need be. Let me know how you feel.

Keqing slowly began to type a response, and she slightly winced as she heard the scrape of the stool on the floor of the new guest sitting at the other side of the bar table. She was beginning to slowly type the words “don’t worry,” when she heard a familiar voice in her ears.

“What’s new?”

It was a voice she knew all too well. Keqing’s head jerked up, and she saw a small figure at the end of the table. It was only the side profile she saw of this person, who was wearing a baggy white hoodie with their head completely covered. But she didn’t have to ask to know that it was Ganyu. The tips of her horns were obvious through the hood.

“Same old. But Ningguang wants to get a new cat. That’s all she’s been fixated on these past few weeks. She even wants your input on it.” Beidou walked over to where Keqing was with Ai, sliding the drinks onto the table. “Enjoy, folks!”

“Thank you.” Keqing’s hands had stopped moving on her screen. Was there even a point in sending a text to Ganyu when she was right next to her? Or was it too awkward?

But Ganyu spoke first, “Keqing?”

“Hi.” Keqing turned to her and saw the familiar soft eyes she’d had on her mind for the past couple weeks. She awkwardly coughed as she raised her phone in the air. “I was just about to respond to your text.”

“Funny seeing you here!” Ai said, her brows raising. “You know, it must be fate.”

“Did you just say Keqing?” Beidou asked, spinning back around on her feet and facing them with a glint of interest in her eyes. “Wait. The Keqing?”

Keqing watched as Beidou quickly pulled up a seat right between her and Ganyu. The scrape of the chair on the floor made her slightly wince again. “Yes, that’s me.”

Ganyu popped her head above Beidou’s to look at her. “Keqing, about my text. Would you like my manager to take care of this karaoke situation?”

There was a part of her that wanted to smile at that as she took notice of how Ganyu was being so considerate as always. But she gave a shake of her head. “It’s okay. I think it’d be more suspicious if the footage were to get deleted.”

“The damage has already been done,” Ai agreed.

“Oh, the karaoke night yesterday,” Beidou said, her eyes widening as she looked between them. “Was that song choice intentional?”

“No,” Ganyu replied quickly. “It was just one of the few songs that she wanted to sing.”

“Interesting.” Beidou hummed. “Very interesting.”

“We aren’t… together, or anything,” Keqing said, bringing the drink to her lips and sipping through the straw. Something about it was peculiar, a taste that displeased her taste buds. But she wasn’t about to spit it back into the glass in front of the person who made it, so she painfully swallowed it.

She nearly choked on it, but Ai had to have noticed that something was off about her. Ai gave her a concerned look, and Keqing waved her hand in the air to dismiss it.

“So I’ve heard,” Beidou said. “But I’m really glad to hear you’re getting along well with Ganyu. She was a bit unapproachable when you met her, right?”

Ganyu made a noise of protest. “I’m not unapproachable.”

“The first time I met Ganyu, it was at an after-party at an awards show.” Beidou looked at Keqing with an amused expression. “She was sitting in the corner all night. So I tried to talk to her, trying to make her feel more at home, but she was basically cutting all of our conversations short.”

“I was exhausted that night,” Ganyu said, sounding a little defeated. “I think I was up until four in the morning on the set for a show I was filming.”

“Right. I think I’ve heard that excuse countless times.” Beidou laughed as she patted Ganyu’s shoulder. “I remember I asked her what her favorite food was, and she told me what her favorite color was. Talk about being brain-fried.”

“Ganyu’s been very approachable,” Keqing said, puzzled. “She’s always so sweet and kind. Considerate too.”

Ai looked at her as she swirled the straw in her drink. “Any other adjectives you’d like to add to that?”

Beidou slightly leaned forward, seeming just as interested in this topic. “Yes, are there any other words you’d like to describe her with?”

“Cut it out,” Ganyu said with a laugh. “You’re being ridiculous today.”

“I’m just teasing. It’s nice to meet you, Keqing. And it’s Ai, I’m assuming? I’ve heard of you from Ganyu.” Beidou stood up and strolled back over to the bar. “Anything I can get for you, Ganyu?”

“Just water is fine.”

Ai’s eyes widened a fraction as she looked back to Keqing, pointing at herself. “She knows me.”

Since Ganyu was here, it was the perfect time for her to get that picture to send to Morax. However awkward it may be, it had to be done. If not today, she wasn’t sure when she’d come across Ganyu again like this.

“Ganyu,” Keqing said. “Have I ever mentioned before that Ai is a really big fan of yours?”

Ganyu’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think I’ve heard of this before. Is that why you were collecting the photocards a while back?”

Keqing’s mouth slightly dried at the mention of that cursed day. She swallowed back her surprise and replied, “Yes, actually. Ai is really big on collecting photocards.”

She refused to look in Ai’s direction, but she could feel the daggers of Ai’s glares nearly piercing the side of her body.

“I’m very honored to have such an enthusiastic fan,” Ganyu said, smiling in Ai’s direction.

Ai let out a small laugh, and Keqing knew her well enough to recognize it as a fake one. “Oh, I’m the lucky one here to be in the presence of someone I’ve looked up to for years.”

At least she was keeping up the act. Keqing slightly leaned back to look at both of them. “If it’s fine by you, one of Ai’s dreams has been to get a picture with you.”

“That’s no problem.” Ganyu nodded and stood up to make her way towards Ai. “But I might have to charge you for it.”

“I have zero Mora on me,” Ai said bluntly, freezing as she pulled out her phone.

“She’s just joking,” Beidou said, grinning as she placed a glass of water in front of Ganyu. “Imagine how much money she’d make if she did charge for pictures, though.” She then glanced around the restaurant and started to walk off. “I’ll be back, let me just serve the new guests.”

“That’s a lot of Mora to wrap my head around.” Ai glanced at Keqing. “Why don’t you get in the picture with us?”

Keqing saw the look on Ai’s face, the one that seemed to be saying, since really, you’re the big fan here. Such nonsense. She gave a little shrug. “This is for you and Ganyu.”

“I don’t mind. I insist, actually,” Ai said, smiling brightly at her.

Ganyu was looking at her expectantly, as well. And she always had a hard time saying no to Ganyu. It was something about her innocent eyes. She bit back a sigh as she slid off the stool and stood right next to Ai. The three of them smiled brightly at the camera, and there was a quick snap of a picture. Multiple snaps, actually, since Ai apparently wasn’t an expert with the phone.

“Thanks for the picture!” Ai said. “I’ll hang it up on the wall. That’s what people normally do with these pictures, right?”

Ganyu was sipping from a straw in her water, and she tilted her head. “I don’t know what people usually do with them. You can do whatever you’d like.”

Ai began to tap away on her phone, and Keqing felt another buzz in her pocket. It seemed Ai had already sent her the picture. She’d look at it later in the day before sending it to a certain bothersome old man.

“Keqing,” Ganyu said. “I know you said this is your last movie, but will you be going to the premiere in a few months?”

“The premiere,” Keqing repeated, her mind totally blanking. She forgot it was a thing. She’d be in Celestia in a matter of days. “I actually don’t know if I’ll be still around for that.”

There was a flicker of worry on Ganyu’s face. “You won’t?”

“I’m afraid I won’t.”

“I have a question, then. Please forgive me if I am being rude.”

“You can ask.”

“I’ve noticed you’re always so tired, and you don’t seem to have a big appetite, either,” Ganyu said, her brows furrowing. “You also mentioned once something about your short mortal lifespan, and that this would be your last movie. And now you’re saying you won’t be around for the premiere. It’s just concerning, if I’m being honest.”

Did Ganyu think….? Keqing’s eyes widened. “Oh, wait a minute. I’m not sick. I’m perfectly healthy. There’s no impending death coming my way, so you don’t have to worry.”

Ganyu’s shoulders relaxed in relief. “Is that so?”

Ai let out a soft whistle. “What a conclusion to jump to. I guess I don’t blame you. But our dear Keqing is here to stay. She’s just leaving the movie scene.”

“Then what about the short lifespan thing?” Ganyu’s eyes were round and filled with concern.

Keqing could feel Ai’s questioning—and judgmental—gaze. She didn’t dare turn around. “Oh, that was just me broadly speaking. Mortal lives are short, it’s not a lie.”

Ganyu nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong.”

“As for the last movie thing, I decided it wasn’t for me. I wanted to do other things with my degree without me being in the spotlight,” Keqing said, reciting the answer she’d practiced with Ai once before. “But, really. Thanks for your concern, Ganyu. You’re pretty attentive.”

Ganyu smiled at her from above her drink, though there was a twinge of sadness to it. “After a while, the signs start to pop out easily, more than you’d like to even notice. I just wasn’t sure.”

She understood. But not to the extent that Ganyu did. How many people had Ganyu seen leave her side? It had to be hundreds or thousands, an amount that was hard to even keep track of. And seeing the hurt in Ganyu’s eyes, she decided she didn’t want to press the matter further.

“Well, enough of the gloomy talk.” Ganyu set down her glass of water. “If there’s anything I can help you with, know that I am here for you. I know it hasn’t been long since we met, but we’re friends.”

“We’re friends,” Keqing affirmed. “I’m here for you too, if you are ever in need of my assistance.”

“Thanks.” Ganyu smiled again at her, genuinely this time. “So what brings you two here? I know we were just talking about Luhua yesterday.”

“Talking about it made me want to see it again.” Keqing slightly jerked her hand away in surprise as a bright purple butterfly came to sit on her hand.

“Oh, that’s a small robotic butterfly. Beidou has a bunch around here,” Ganyu said. “She added them after I told her I used to love the butterflies in Luhua.”

“How adorable!” Ai cooed, clapping her hands as she peered closer.

“It’s pretty,” Keqing said, bringing her hand closer to her face. The butterfly had semiluscent wings that sparkled under the lights. Its technology surprised her. The devices in the mortal realm seemed to be catching up quickly with that in Celestia. The butterfly flew off as quickly as it came.

“What brings you here, Ganyu?” Ai asked.

“I have today off, which is a rare occurrence. I wanted to use it to come here, just to see Beidou and just this general area.” Ganyu turned her head to look at the pond. “It brings back old memories.”

“The only thing that’s missing here are the frogs and crabs that like to roam around,” said Keqing, tapping her chin. “I’ve read in some books that there were a lot of those in Luhua.”

Ganyu hummed. “Well, that’s a pretty fine detail you picked up from those books. The most I’ve seen mentioned about Luhua Pool are usually just a few lines on the scenery and not much else.”

“Must’ve been written by people who were never there for its beauty,” Ai commented.

“That’s true.” Ganyu cracked a small smile. “I suppose I should be the one writing all of these historical books, being the witness of them all.”

“Well, if you ever need a side gig,” Keqing said. “Or when you need a break from acting. It’ll be waiting for you.”

“I have a lot of skills under my belt that I could utilize.” Ganyu glanced at her watch, then back at Keqing. “There’s an event coming up in the area if you’d like to tag along.”

“What event?”

“They’re celebrating the birth of a famous painter and environmentalist, Vermeer, who achieved many great feats for Luhua,” Ai said, parroting knowledge that was new to both of them. Perks of having an infinite store of knowledge in her brain. “He fell in love with the place after making a visit to paint the scenery. He’s known for protecting the rare plant species that existed there.”

“That’s all correct. Those who lived in Luhua were big on the environment, and they all looked up to him. It’s interesting because he was originally from Mondstadt, but he grew to love Luhua that much.” Ganyu sighed and slightly shook her head. “It’s just a shame that the area turned out like this in the end. But this is the most they can do to honor him in our current day.”

“That sounds like a wonderful tradition. I’d like to see what it’s about.” Keqing then glanced at Ai, who was staring at her with a suspicious smile. “Want to come with?”

“Oh, no. Not me.” Ai looked at her phone and stood up. “I have some business to take care of. You both have fun!”

Keqing stared after Ai in disbelief as her assistant rushed out of the building, all while tightly holding her phone to her ear. It was a first for her to see Ai saying she had business that didn’t concern her. There was nobody that came to mind, either, on her imaginary empty list of people that Ai would be calling this very moment.

She looked back at Ganyu. “Well, I guess it’ll just be us.”

“Not a problem.” Ganyu smiled as she slid off her stool. “Although Luhua has seen many changes over the decades, it’s still beautiful in the way that it is now.”

On their way out, Beidou came over to say a final goodbye, even winking at Keqing as she said, “Take good care of her for me.”

Keqing found herself nodding, but in the back of her mind, she was wondering what the wink meant. Did telling someone to take care of their friend entail a wink that followed a second after?

“You can ignore her,” Ganyu said, looking like she was holding back a laugh as she pushed open the door for them. “She can get a little ridiculous, much like the twins.”

“That kind of bond with another tends to come after many years of trust.” Keqing pressed her cap down on her head for good measure and turned to face Ganyu on the busy street. “Where to?”

“Follow me closely.” Ganyu let out a sigh at the busy stream of people passing through them. “I might lose you here. So many tourists always come to check out the event here.”

“I’ll try to stick right behind you.”

“Actually, that might not work. People here can get pretty aggressive and push past you.” Ganyu pulled her hoodie closer to her head and stuck a hand out. “Would you be okay with holding my hand until I bring you there?”

Keqing glanced down at her outstretched hand and took it. “Sure. Whatever you need to get us there safely.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable at any point, just let me know,” Ganyu said, her grasp loosening on her hand.

They were holding hands, but barely. Ganyu’s grasp was so light. One slight shove from a person rushing by would be enough to send Keqing tumbling backwards, in all honesty. But Ganyu started to walk forward, pushing past the shoulders and backs of many people who were much taller than they were.

Keqing wished she was taller. Maybe even Shenhe’s height would’ve benefited them, so she could avoid getting them both trampled by anybody else. When they had to squeeze past a bigger crowd, Keqing tightened her grasp on Ganyu’s hand. She knew Ganyu had been trying to be respectful, of course, but she supposed this much physical contact was alright.

They’d kissed once, after all. Not even once. Three times. Those three kisses, she’d hold them dear to her heart. It wasn’t as if she’d ever get the chance to kiss anyone again for the rest of her life.

Ganyu’s fingers seemed to grasp her hand tighter in response, and they walked for what seemed like ten minutes until they slipped out from the sea of people. A tall glass building stood over their heads, with a long line of people pouring out of the front doors.

“This is the museum where they have his artworks. He drew a lot of plants and trees local to Luhua Pool,” Ganyu said. “It attracts a lot of tourists because many of his pieces became internationally famous. They’re ancient, after all.”

“Will we even be able to get in?” Keqing turned her face as she tried to see where the line ended. But it seemed to twist around the corner of the block. “That line doesn’t seem to be moving at all.”

“Give me a moment.” Ganyu took out her phone with her other hand, the one that wasn’t holding hers, and brought it to her ear. “Xiao, I’m here at the front. Where should I meet you?”

Keqing looked down at their intertwined hands, wondering if it was the right time now to let go. It would’ve been smarter to let go a few minutes ago when they’d gotten out of the crowd. Would it be awkward to suddenly let go of it now? Was there even a socially acceptable period of time that existed before she had to let go of the hand? An unsaid rule, perhaps. The people passing them were in too much of a rush to look at their faces—but she could only hope they’d continue to go unnoticed.

At this point, she was just overthinking it. If Ai were here, her assistant would have laughed her butt off at the sight.

“He’s waiting for us at the back of the building, so we can skip the line.” Ganyu grinned. “Let’s head on over quickly before people start taking pictures of us.”

“He’s not as scary as they said, right?” Keqing asked, walking quicker to keep up with Ganyu’s steps—and they were still holding hands. If Ganyu wasn’t making a move to let go, she supposed she wouldn’t, either. “I don’t know what to expect from a former Yaksha.”

Ganyu laughed. “The twins only say that because they’ve pulled too many pranks on Xiao. They’ve seen plenty of his bad side.”

Keqing made a noise of understanding. “I see. So I shouldn’t be nervous about meeting this man.”

“Not at all. He’ll be intimidating at first, sure, but he’s got a soft heart. And he shouldn’t be mean to you.”

The two of them walked around the block, winding past the building. They were still holding hands as they slipped past the countless tourists. They came to a stop at the end of the street, and that was when Ganyu let go of her hand.

“Sorry, I was holding it for a long time, wasn’t I?” Ganyu sheepishly laughed. “But at least we made it past the crowd.”

“I didn’t mind.” Keqing’s gaze caught on a golden shrine across the street. “That…”

“Oh, there’s a lot of shrines around this area. While they built a lot of new buildings around here, they kept a lot of old ones too.” Ganyu squinted as she followed her gaze. “That seems to be the one for the Goddess of Love, based on the statue.”

There were cars zooming by, but through the occasional glances she could get at the shrine, she saw the classic depiction of her at the front of it. It was a large golden statue of her with long hair and a crown of small hearts on her head, although it lacked the two pointy buns that she normally had. Not that mortals would know of the specific details of her hairstyle in the first place. There were red strings and banners in the shrine that seemed to promote prayers for love blessings, and it was bustling with tourists.

“Beidou prayed to her for me recently,” said Ganyu, crossing her arms. “Which I’m sure you can see. Lots of headlines were made.”

Keqing stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to even say. “Ah, I see. And none of them worked out.”

Ganyu laughed. “I remember being pretty confused at first. Being pulled into dates so often was a bit unsettling. Beidou only explained afterwards, calling me up to say, ‘Oh, I guess the Goddess of Love really does exist, and at least she’s trying.’”

“She was trying hard, I’m sure.”

“Even the gods can’t help me,” she said, sighing. “But it’s alright.”

This was all good information that she needed, as long as she’d be able to keep them on this topic. Keqing took a deep breath before asking, “None of them were your type?”

Ganyu shook her head. “I don’t really have a type. But it was just weird. I’d arrange a date with them, and then show up and wonder what I was doing there. I didn’t really feel like I belonged with any of them.”

Keqing forced a small laugh as she remembered all of the arrows that had fallen off Ganyu’s chest. “Now, that’s really strange.”

“It is. But I guess the goddess has given up on me now, which is alright. I haven’t been on any dates since.”

“Did you dislike the dates?”

“No, not at all. I tend to like meeting new people, so it was fun! I had nice discussions with all of them, but there just wasn’t much chemistry.” Ganyu turned away from the shrine to face the back of the museum. “But enough talk about me. There he is.”

Keqing sighed softly as she also turned around. This was the type of conversation she needed to keep talking about, but she wasn’t going to keep prying if Ganyu wanted to move on from talking about it. She walked with Ganyu until she saw someone waving at them.

Except, it wasn’t really someone. It was Xiao, she supposed, but he was wearing a costume. It was a sunflower. He was wearing a cartoon head of a flower with yellow petals and a smiling face in the center that was completely covering his face. The bottom of his body was in a green-colored costume that looked like a stem with his arms as leaves. He was holding the backdoor open for them as they slipped inside.

Xiao then pulled off his flower head, resting it between his arm and chest, to reveal his dark, wavy hair and golden eyes. His face seemed to portray no particular emotion as he said, “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” Keqing smiled at him, trying to hold back a laugh at the flower head. “Lovely costume.”

“Oh, there’s a reason for that. Xiao’s gotten his fair share of fame too. He has his fans, let’s just say that. He has to stay under disguise in his own ways.”

“The workers here offered me a costume,” Xiao said, his gaze flickering to Keqing briefly. “I don’t normally dress up as sunflowers for fun.”

“And thank goodness for that. The costumes don’t fit your personality too well.” Ganyu grinned as she clapped his shoulder. “Thanks for getting us in.”

“I’ll try to keep up with you two. But don’t be alarmed if I’m held back by people who want pictures with a sunflower.” Xiao sighed loudly as he put his flower head back on. “They must think I’m part of Vermeer Day.”

“Alright, work hard. We’ll just cruise past the paintings before we head on up for the fireworks.” Ganyu looked at her before pushing open the door at the end of the hallway. “Ready, Keqing?”

Keqing gave her a thumbs up. “Let’s go see what Vermeer Day is all about.”

➵ ✩

The paintings filled every single room. Each small room they walked into seemed to have more, and the rooms never ended. But the artworks were all beautiful. There were so many shades of green blended together, along with pastels here and there for depictions of rare flowers. Flowers that she hadn’t seen in so long.

One room, however, had a display on the wall of a few dried flowers. Their long petals were light blue and round, much like the color of Ganyu’s hair, with a purple center. The flower stems were still intact, kept in pristine condition. What surprised Keqing was when she read the small description underneath the display, which said it was donated by Ganyu.

Keqing turned to face her and pointed at the description. There were several people nearby, so she had to lower her voice and ask, “These were yours?”

“Oh, right.” Ganyu smiled as she leaned forward to take a closer look. “I found them around my house and donated them here when they were building this museum.”

Keqing’s eyes widened. “Wow. You kept them safe for so long.”

“Yeah.” Ganyu placed a hand over the glass on the display. “These have been my favorite flowers since what seems like forever. I can’t even remember a time when that wasn’t the case.”

“They’re gorgeous.” Keqing looked behind her when she heard some giggles, to see a few teenage girls taking pictures with the “sunflower guy” as they were calling Xiao. “Well, disguised or not, he sure gets his fair share of attention.”

Ganyu snorted. “He does. Poor guy. He’s never liked any of the attention he gets, either.”

“But hey, it must not be too terrible. He hasn’t stopped being your manager.”

“I’m grateful for him. I really am. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without him.” Ganyu lifted her hand off the display and walked ahead. “The next room should be the last one. Then we can head upstairs. Let’s hope the sunflower guy can catch up soon.”

Keqing suppressed a laugh when she saw the big smile on the sunflower’s face. She could imagine Xiao’s expressionless face hiding beneath the cover. Or perhaps it was even a slight frown.

“This room has some poems and writing excerpts from different authors,” Ganyu said, stopping them in front of the first display on the wall.

Keqing’s eyes were wide as she read the name of the author. This particular poem was handwritten on a piece of long paper with beautiful calligraphy, all by Lanxi herself. Lanxi had written a long piece about the transience of nature, stressing the importance of appreciation and preservation. To think that this was a coincidence seemed unlikely. Perhaps it was fate pulling its strings.

“It’s Lanxi,” Keqing murmured.

“Oh, do you know about her?” Ganyu asked. “I’ve always loved her writing. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Keqing raised her brows. She hadn’t been expecting Ganyu to know her, but it made sense. Immortals probably crossed paths frequently. “Have you ever met her?”

“A few times, yes. She gives amazing advice.” Ganyu looked at her in amusement. “Why do you ask? Is Ai a big fan of hers, as well? Need another picture?”

Keqing shook her head rapidly, and she felt her face start to become warm. “No, this isn’t about Ai.”

“I’m just teasing. But Lanxi is always open to meeting new people if you’d like to meet her.”

“No need. Is she pleasant to be around?”

“She is. She has a quiet personality, but she’s always been kind.” The corners of Ganyu’s lips curved upwards. “This feels like an interrogation.”

Keqing plastered a smile on her face as she turned to face the writing display once more. “Sorry, sorry. I was just curious.”

“That’s fine too. Curiosity is a good thing.” Ganyu smiled back at her and pointed to the end of the room. “Want to head on up for the fireworks?”

Keqing was staring at the small description of Lanxi by the display, where there was also a small picture of her with a dog. Lanxi was pretty, for sure. Her dark hair was set down in loose waves and her inviting brown eyes seemed to be kind. She’d fit with Ganyu nicely, from all that she’d looked into.

She really had done her research, watching a good amount of interviews during the last week to get a sense of who Lanxi was. She’d even read up on opinions from people who had met her. Everyone praised Lanxi’s kindness, patience, and her generosity. Some even called her an angel in disguise.

It was what Ganyu deserved. Someone who would treat her kindly, someone to spend the rest of eternity with.

And Keqing knew she should’ve been happy to know this, that she’d found a worthy match for Ganyu. One that would hopefully work this time, something to uphold her perfect record as it once was.

“Let’s go,” Keqing said as she followed Ganyu out of the room.

She should’ve been happy. But there was a sense of hesitation in her. As Ganyu was giving her a small, soft smile as held open the door and waited for her to walk through first, Keqing felt a sense of dread waking up within her.

She knew she had to leave Ganyu’s side soon enough. These were all things Keqing knew she had to do. But then what was this feeling within her, wanting to hold her back from completing her mission? It could have been from the sheer change of this all, how unfamiliar it felt from her usual days. To have made a new friend in centuries, of course she’d feel the reluctance to leave Ganyu so soon.

But this hesitation to even proceed with her matchmaking was unordinary for her. A strange change, one that left her wondering what the deeper reason for it all was.

➵ ✩

JUST IN: GANYU AND KEQING SING “LOVERS’ OATH” TOGETHER… NEW ROMANCE BLOOMING?

Alright, folks. Sit down for this one, ‘cause it’s quite the shocker. When was the last time you ever heard top-star Ganyu sing? We’ll tell you so you don’t have to look it up. It’s been about 50 years, and the last time was a 5-second clip from an interview.

But, fear not. If you missed her voice, you can check out a video of her singing Lovers’ Oath with Keqing here. Yes, you heard that right. Ganyu’s made enough headlines with Keqing already, and we have another big moment of them singing an ancient love song. A classic!

Despite representatives from Ganyu’s company denying any dating rumors, we can’t help but raise our eyebrows. Are they really just friends? You can even see the way they look at each other while singing. Is that truly just platonic as they all claim?

Check out what fans had to say here:

#GANQING IS REAL (@happyhappyganyu):
okay so i know we should respect their privacy and all of that but i just found out people are calling them GANQING which is absolutely beautiful. their ship name means FEELINGS? if that doesn’t scream out to you that it’s fate then i don’t know what to say. and now they sang lovers’ oath together. this is sus behavior

#1 Xiao Fan (@tiredandsleepy):
Honestly, hearing about the karaoke session that Ganyu and Keqing did was not what I was expecting to be on the list for this year. They’re pretty cute together, not gonna lie. You could see the hearts spilling out of Keqing’s eyes when she looked at Ganyu. Or maybe that was just me.

[closed] (@ArchonsPlsListen):
omg. i literally don’t know how to act anymore… WHAT IF KEQING IS THE ONE? literally crying as we speak. when is it my turn to experience cute celebrity romance and sing cute love songs at dinner ?? WHEN… PLEASE, when is it my turn? it’s time to pray to ferthur.

QINGXIN LOVER (@smileyganyu):
Oh. My. ARCHONS. I wake up to find this Lovers’ Oath karaoke video but also SOO many memes of people editing random songs over them singing? Why’d someone put a religious Rex Lapis song over it… This app is so unserious. But thanks for the laugh.

Just a humble egg (@eggyolkishealthy):
So it seems to be that Ganyu and Keqing keep breaking the internet every week. But I’m here for it. It’s interesting that they chose to sing Lovers’ Oath of ALL songs. I know they keep denying the dating rumors, but someone has to be catching feelings. If Keqing isn’t going to pull a move anytime soon, someone’s gonna.

Stay tuned for more updates.

Chapter Text

The fireworks were nearly deafening. Of course, Keqing knew that was how fireworks were supposed to be with their booms and stunning pops. But she hadn’t heard them in so long that she was startled by the first one that exploded in the air. People around them were cheering loudly, the majority of them holding their drinks up in the air.

Ganyu seemed to have noticed, and how could she not? She had to feel Keqing's slight startled jump when their shoulders were pressed together in this tight crowd. Ganyu leaned closer, asking into her ear, “Are you okay?”

Keqing nodded, trying not to focus on the warmth of Ganyu’s breath so close to her face as she replied, “I’m fine.” But it wasn’t as if her voice could be heard over the fireworks.

She soon felt a warm hand lightly grasping hers, and she didn’t have to look down to see that it was Ganyu. Ganyu tilted her head away from the crowd. Keqing didn’t know where she wanted to go, but she trusted her. She was soon walking, her feet trying to keep up with Ganyu’s quick pace.

They finally slipped out of the crowd, and Ganyu led her to the other side of the rooftop. There were more lounge chairs and coffee tables here with dividers between them, which definitely made for a quieter area than where they had been earlier right next to the bar. The only other people here in this area were an elderly couple and a family with young children.

Ganyu led them to the end, where a black marble divider was on the right of them, blocking them off from the other guests.

“Come take a seat,” Ganyu said, fanning her face as she waited for Keqing to sit first. She slipped off the hood from her head and breathed out. “Goodness. This sweatshirt was not the brightest idea.”

“It looks cozy on you.” Keqing felt her body growing heavier as she took her seat. A yawn was even slipping out before she knew it. She glanced at her watch. It was nine in the evening, which had to mean there was still some time left before her body would crash. Hopefully.

“Do you mind if I take this off?” Ganyu asked, her hands touching the bottom of her white hoodie.

“I don’t mind.” Keqing paused. She didn’t know if she needed to leave or not. “Would you like me to give you privacy?”

“No, it’s fine. I have a shirt underneath, anyway.”

Keqing wasn’t sure where to look, so she looked up at the sky for the fireworks. It wasn’t as loud over here, with the less amount of chatter from the crowd. The fireworks were sparkling in the air, each of them revealing pretty designs. One was a pink lotus flower, another was a green lotus head, and there were other types of floral plants she assumed were unique to Luhua Pool.

“They put a lot of effort into designing this show,” Keqing said, turning her head. She saw the bottom of Ganyu’s shirt riding up, showing some skin on her abdomen as her hoodie came off. Keqing quickly glanced away, feeling her face warming up.

“Right? They always honor Vermeer in the most amazing way.” Ganyu rolled up her hoodie and placed it on her lap. Her eyes lit up as they looked at each other. “It feels nice to actually talk to you outside of the set.”

Keqing’s face was starting to feel even hotter. But she held Ganyu’s gaze with a small smile of her own. “I agree. This is really nice.”

Ganyu’s eyes flickered away, then hesitantly back towards her. “I have a request.”

Keqing felt a slight chill on her arms at the words she was so used to hearing every day as a goddess. She shook the feeling off. “What is it?”

“This sounds silly, and I know we took pictures earlier on Ai’s phone,” Ganyu said, holding up her phone in the air. “But can I take one of us together?”

Keqing raised a brow. “Are the countless ones the paparazzi took of us not enough?”

Ganyu let out a slight laugh. “Honestly, they’re really not the same. Let’s be real here.”

“I know, I know. Go ahead with the picture.”

“Thank you,” Ganyu said, in a softer voice this time. “I just love taking pictures of small moments like these.”

Keqing didn’t have to ask why. Hearing the melancholy woven through Ganyu’s quiet voice was enough. And it saddened her too, to think that their remaining moments were limited together. “Let’s do it.”

Ganyu held the phone higher in the air, counting down until she snapped the photo. They smiled brightly in the picture, but Keqing still felt as if she could sense the imminent feeling of nostalgia in the air. Nostalgia for something that hadn’t even passed them by yet.

“I know this is going to sound kind of strange, but there was this feeling I got when we first met. Like I’ve known you before.” Ganyu placed her phone down and looked at her. “I’ve never quite had this happen before. Déjà vu, I guess.”

Keqing stared back, her gaze sweeping past all the details of Ganyu’s face. She liked to think she had a stellar memory, but she had no recollection of ever meeting Ganyu in the past. Perhaps they’d walked by each other in the past when she’d visited the mortal realm? But she would’ve known. Those horns were easy to spot, sticking out clearly even in a crowd of people.

Keqing only smiled. “I feel like I’ve known you before too. But that’s only because I’ve seen so many of your movies.”

“While we’re on that topic, I want to thank you for being such a great person to work with. I know we didn’t have too many scenes together, but it’s really been an enjoyable time.” Ganyu’s eyes were filled with warmth. “It’s not so often I get to work with someone who treats me like an actual person.”

“Do I even want to know what you’ve dealt with before?”

“Probably not.” Ganyu laughed. “But it’s more like… People just see through me sometimes. They think I’m famous and that’s all I am. Like I’m a stepping stool for them to reach their own level of fame.”

“Mortals can be quite dim-witted at times,” Keqing said, then scratched her head as she realized how silly she sounded. “I mean. I’m one too.”

“Are you really?”

Keqing felt her mouth dry when she sensed that Ganyu was asking seriously. No familiar amused glint in her eyes, or the slight turn of her lips. She gulped. “Yes?”

“There are certain things you’ve done and said before that have made me question that.” Ganyu tilted her head to the side. “You can be honest.”

“Fair point.” Keqing blinked back at her. “Would that change anything?”

“Not at all.” Ganyu finally gave her a small smile. “Mortal or not, you’re still the same Keqing to me.”

“Well.” As she sat in silence for a few seconds, she wondered why she was even contemplating telling Ganyu. Not that she was a goddess, but just that she was also an immortal. As if admitting anything would tie any loose strands between them and bring them closer than before.

But why did that matter? Did the way Ganyu perceive her mean that much to her? Her mind only went to the fact that this was one of the few friends she’d ever made, the first in so many years. Friends wanted to be honest with each other, to open up, and to seek comfort in their everyday struggles.

“Your silence says enough,” Ganyu said, resting her head back on the lounge chair and crossing her legs. “We don’t have to speak more on it if you wouldn’t like to.”

“I don’t mind.”

She really didn’t. She trusted Ganyu to keep this information private, based on her senses, but also just by getting to know the person she was. If Ai were here, she’d be screeching about how this was a nightmare, the worst possible situation to ever exist. But Keqing was more of an optimist. It wasn’t as if she would be admitting to Ganyu that she was Ferthur.

“I can say you’ve tried your best to appear as a mortal, for sure. It’s just certain things that made me think otherwise. I’ve had my suspicions.” Ganyu sounded amused. “But your secret is safe with me.”

“This is pretty embarrassing for me,” Keqing said, covering her face with her hands. “I feel like a kid that’s been caught stealing some preserved fruit candy from the kitchen during the night.”

“See? That’s what I mean,” Ganyu said with a laugh. “Something like that would’ve made sense about a couple thousand years ago, but not now.”

Keqing loudly exhaled as she lowered her hands. “I’ve got to just keep my mouth shut. It would create less problems for me.”

“Nonsense. I don’t judge.”

“I know you don’t.” Keqing smiled at her. “You have a kind soul. And I’m sorry for lying to you about my immortality.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry! It’s not uncommon for people to keep it a secret, anyway. Some people can be freaky about it when they find out.”

“The Immortal Hunters,” said Keqing, and Ganyu nodded as her face grew solemn.

She knew of them. All the gods in Celestia were aware of the issue. They had to. There had been a large conflict that had broken out about 200 years ago, when a group of mortals called the Immortal Hunters had kidnapped twenty immortals to conduct research trials on them. Their purpose had been to “find a cure to mortality,” all based on their genetic material.

It had caused an enormous uproar when word spread quickly. Years went by before all nations in Teyvat passed laws protecting the rights of the immortals, although it had been a long process before talks of it began to die out. But once in a while, she would still hear of a small group of people referring to themselves as the Immortal Hunters. People with their own frivolous complaints—usually out of jealousy over land that had remained in possession of an immortal.

“It’s been a rocky past, for sure.” Ganyu sighed. “But whatever made you put yourself out there in a movie like this, I’m glad to have met you because of it.”

“Meeting you was one of the best things to happen to me,” Keqing said, and she saw the flicker of surprise on Ganyu’s face. “That sounds dramatic. But really. I haven’t met someone as kind as you in so long.”

“Good.” Ganyu beamed. “I’m really, really happy to hear that.”

Keqing smiled as she looked up at the fireworks. They were still appearing as flowers and plants, but in all sorts of different bright colors. “I’ll miss you.”

That much had to be okay to admit. But at this point, she was just being greedy. Greedy to get her own thoughts across, because if not now, she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to speak to Ganyu again. Time was fleeting, slipping from them both, and every second was one she had to treasure.

“Will you be going somewhere far?”

Keqing watched as a pink flower bloomed across the sky. “I will. I’ve got matters that are calling my name.”

“Now I’m questioning how much of what you’ve told me so far has been true,” Ganyu said. “But I wouldn’t want to pry. It’ll be like a game for me to figure it all out.”

Keqing’s gaze lowered from the sky back to Ganyu’s pensive face. She felt a small clench in her heart. She wished things were—no, could be— different. She wanted to come clean to Ganyu, to be able to tell her everything. That was what friends did. Good friends didn’t lie to each other.

But these were all privileges she’d given up when she ascended to become a goddess.

“I can’t reveal much. But I do spend a lot of time helping others.” She was trying her best to word this carefully without giving too much away. “It always keeps me busy, so I’m usually not very up-to-date on recent trends.”

Ganyu hummed. “Are you some kind of monk?”

Keqing’s lips slightly parted in surprise. “Well. Not really.”

“Top-secret work that keeps you away from society,” Ganyu said, her brows raising. “Whatever it is must be pretty serious. Is it really okay for you to be on the headlines like this?”

It was sweet of Ganyu to be so considerate. She’d lost count of how many times she’d asked her if the headlines were alright to handle. “Completely fine. I can deal with it. You really don’t have to worry about it.”

“Do you know when you’ll leave?”

Keqing bit her lower lip. It was a great question. It would be right for her to leave even tonight after sending off her arrow. Theoretically. Becoming friends with Ganyu had never been part of the original plan, she’d dug herself this mess.

“Soon is all I can say,” Keqing finally said.

“Now that I know you don’t have a short mortal lifespan,” Ganyu said, her tone growing lighter as she referenced Keqing’s previous lie, “I’m going to hope we cross paths again. At some point.”

Keqing couldn’t help but smile at her. “I like your optimism. I’ll hope for the same.”

“Is it too much to ask for a goodbye before you leave, whenever it may be? You won’t be disappearing into thin air randomly, right?”

She would end up disappearing into thin air. But Keqing maintained the smile on her face. “Saying a goodbye is easy enough to do, isn’t it?”

“Goodbyes are honestly always hard.”

“I won’t argue against that. But to answer your question, yes, I’ll let you know.” It was the least she could do for Ganyu. Really. As a friend, but also as a goddess. She’d done enough damage by messing up with those ten previous matches.

Ganyu crossed her legs and closed her eyes, her long lashes resting against her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Don’t fall asleep on me here. Who’s going to take me home if I pass out again?”

A soft laugh came in response, one that was hard to catch in between the sounds of the fireworks. “That’d be another big news story, don’t you think? Ganyu and Keqing found together sleeping on the rooftop of Luhua Museum!”

It was a bit too realistic. Keqing shuddered. “We’d never be able to overcome all of those allegations after that one.”

“I know, can you imagine?” Ganyu’s eyes opened, and she turned her body towards Keqing until she was lying on her side, with her chin resting on the palm of her hand. “Can I ask you a random question?”

Keqing glanced at her, then quickly back up at the fireworks. Seeing Ganyu looking at her so intently was enough to make her cheeks start to burn. She wondered how awkward it’d be if she pulled up her shirt, despite how warm she was already feeling, to somewhat hide. Probably a little too awkward—she wasn’t going to find out and risk hurting her pride.

“Ask away.”

“What makes you happy?”

Keqing blinked. “What?”

“It’s just a question that’s been on my mind these days.”

“A very deep question.” Keqing eventually looked down from the sky back at her.

Ganyu’s eyes didn’t give much away. They were still as bright and sparkly as ever. “I feel like it’s something both immortals and mortals try to figure out themselves too. A universal experience for anyone alive. The key to happiness. Something we try to learn, but only a few are privileged to figure it out. If they even can.”

“That’s true. But you know what they say about finding happiness in small things.” Keqing rubbed a hand over her stomach. “In my case, that’s Golden Shrimp Balls. And as silly as it sounds, pictures of the Aranara.”

“Oh, those adorable little creatures!” Ganyu’s eyes widened. “I’ve always wanted to see them.”

“I am honestly surprised people have even managed to take pictures of them.” Keqing loved them. She’d met quite a few in the past in her visits to Sumeru, and she held their kind dear to her heart. “Which small things do you find happiness in?”

“My dog, for one. Yun. I sure do miss him.”

“I’ve seen a few pictures of him, actually. I never knew you had a dog.”

“He’s my precious boy. I hope you’ll get the chance to meet him one day.” Ganyu took out her phone, swiping at the screen before she held it up.

Keqing leaned forward to look at the image. It was of Ganyu hugging Yun, the white, fluffy dog, and there appeared to be a large red bow between his ears. He was in the middle of giving Ganyu a big lick on her cheek, while she had the biggest grin on her face.

Keqing found herself quickly smiling. “You two are adorable.”

“You think so?” Ganyu turned off her phone and placed it down next to her legs. “I guess another thing that makes me happy is acting. Although it gets exhausting most of the time, it has plenty of good moments that come along with it.”

“It’s nice that you’ve found yourself a fulfilling career.” Keqing let out a small sigh. “But I know, day-to-day life can get pretty repetitive and boring. Especially after so many years.”

“Right. So many envy us and seek what we have. But immortality isn’t all sunshine and rainbows as they seem to think.”

Keqing’s mind drifted to her everyday work. Being a matchmaker for people was something she loved to do. She had the privilege of creating fated connections that would last for the rest of their lives. As rewarding as it was, it came with its own struggles. It was monotonous at times, for sure, but there were also nights that she lay awake in bed fantasizing about what it would be like to be in love herself. To be able to experience going on a date, to hold hands with a lover, to spend each night in their arms, and to have someone to share her worries and victories with.

“Do you think you’ll ever quit acting?” Keqing asked.

“I don’t see myself stopping anytime soon. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”

“You’ll just be the best actress in town for the rest of eternity.”

“I guess that’s a title that’d be hard to get taken away from me. Unless another famous immortal actress comes along.”

Keqing was momentarily distracted by the distant cheers she heard coming from the direction of the bar. But she focused back on Ganyu and said, “I think that title will be yours to stay. I don’t think anyone could ever compete.”

Ganyu sheepishly shrugged. “It’s not that hard to come by good acting skills.”

“Sure, but I don’t think anyone could compete with…” Keqing trailed off, her voice starting to grow softer as she looked carefully at Ganyu’s features. From her bright eyes and her dainty nose, to the soft curves of her cheeks and her pretty lips. “With your face.”

“Hm?” Ganyu’s brows furrowed as she leaned forward. “I didn’t catch that last part of what you said over the fireworks.”

Keqing scratched the side of her chin, feeling a sense of awkwardness starting to settle within her as she said, “Oh, don’t worry about it.”

“You can tell me. I won’t judge.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Keqing glanced back up at the sky, avoiding Ganyu’s gaze. “I just spoke too rashly.”

“You’re making me more curious now.”

“Stay curious, then.”

Laughter erupted from Ganyu. “Alright, I see how it is. Did you say something insulting?”

“Not at all. It was a compliment.”

Ganyu sounded even more amused as she said, “Then I’d love to hear you compliment me.”

Keqing finally looked over at her. “Have I not complimented you enough?”

Ganyu looked pensive as she tapped her chin with a finger. “Have you? I feel as if my memory fails me at times.”

Keqing raised a brow. “Must be all those years taking a toll on you.” And Ganyu was still looking at her expectantly. She felt herself giving in. She always did, way too easily. “I guess I can tell you.”

Ganyu grinned. “I was only half-joking. You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”

“You deserve to hear it.” Keqing felt herself starting to get a little nervous. Her heart was racing quicker, and she felt her palms growing clammy as she said, “There may be people who have acting skills as great as you, but there’s nobody that could compete with your face.”

Ganyu’s eyes slightly widened a fraction as she replied, “Oh, right. It’d be hard for anyone to compete with my unfortunate features.”

“What? No.” Keqing looked at her in disbelief. “I was talking about your beauty. You’re so pretty.”

Ganyu gave her a pained smile. “I was joking. I guess I’m bad at getting my sarcasm across.” Then she added, “But thank you. You’re too kind.”

“You’re not bad at it. I think I’m just bad at getting jokes.” Keqing was taken back to notice the slight pink shade evident on Ganyu’s cheeks, and even her ears. Or maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, as the lighting wasn’t the best outside. But if she really was blushing…

Keqing found it cute. Just a little. Maybe even more than a little. It was cute how complimenting Ganyu’s beauty was enough to elicit such a reaction out of her, whether it be subtle or not. Blush or not, Ganyu was now looking away from her, which made it even more suspicious. Who knew such a famous celebrity could be so shy?

“You’re pretty too,” Ganyu said as their eyes met once again.

Keqing blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she was left wondering what to say to that. Her mind was running around in circles until she finally settled with, “Nice weather we’re having today, right?”

Ganyu looked like she was holding back a laugh. “Yeah, we are.”

Keqing felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of her hoodie. She pulled it out to see a text from Ai, who’d sent her a pretty lengthy text. She glanced at Ganyu. “Excuse me while I read what Ai sent me.”

“No worries at all.”

Annoying Ai:
Keqing, I hope you have not screwed up yet. I left you alone because I trust you, but now I am questioning my decisions. I will not bore you with the calculations I made earlier to determine the likelihood of you messing up and finding you on the news headlines later today. But I will trust you.

Please tell me you have not done something incredibly foolish yet, such as kissing Ganyu off-screen. I don’t know why, but I had a bad feeling so I wanted to check in. Let me know. And remember not to stay out too late, your body won’t be able to take it.

Keqing fought the urge to not respond at all to this ridiculous text. But then came the fear of Ai somehow tracking her down using whatever powers she had and showing up to make sure everything was okay. And she didn’t quite want Ai to be interrupting this moment. It wasn’t like she was doing anything secretive with Ganyu, but still.

This was one of the few rare moments she’d ever be able to share with Ganyu.

“Is everything okay?”

“Perfectly okay,” Keqing said, slowly typing out a quick reply. Two words: Everything’s fine. Given her slow typing skills, she didn’t want to sit in front of Ganyu for a full five minutes typing out an elaborate response. Ai would have to trust her.

“Ai seems super kind and supportive.” Ganyu smiled. “You got lucky with an awesome manager.”

“If you ever want someone to replace Xiao, let me know. I could even give her to you right now as your manager,” answered Keqing, her tone light.

“You wouldn’t want Ai to hear that.”

“Ai’s heard it all.” Keqing laughed. “But you have a good manager too. I don’t think there are many people who’d be willing to dress up in a sunflower costume.”

“That’s very true. I don’t deserve him.” Ganyu shifted from her side-lying position to sitting upright as she looked down at her phone. “He’s apparently still held up taking pictures with tourists. That sunflower’s popular with the kids.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“During the Archon War.” Ganyu looked at her curiously. “Were you around for it?”

Approximately 2,200 years had now passed since the conclusion of the Archon War. Keqing’s mortal years prior to her ascension had been spent during the later stages of the war, she knew that for a fact.

“I was, but I didn’t fight in it. You fought, didn’t you?” Another thought rose in her mind, a fact about Ganyu that she’d once encountered before while reading about her. “Don’t you have a Cryo Vision?”

“Yes to both questions.” Ganyu reached under her shirt to pull out a golden necklace enclosing a bright blue pendant with red loopy threads around it. “With the lack of a need for fighting these days, the Vision doesn’t serve as much purpose in that aspect as it used to. But there are still many people who use their Visions.”

Keqing looked closer at the Vision. Its shiny surface was reflecting some of the blue and purple fireworks above them. “What do people do with it nowadays?”

“Scientists have an amazing use for Visions in their experiments.” Ganyu brushed a finger over her Vision’s surface. “Honestly, people get creative. I know people with Hydro Visions are a gem among the firefighters. During the winter, there’s also people with Pyro Visions who go around offering warmth to those who are less fortunate to have heat sources.”

“Those are pretty wholesome reasons.” Keqing tilted her head. “Have you heard of anyone using it for evil purposes?”

Ganyu slipped her Vision back under her shirt and slightly shuddered. “Unfortunately, yes. I don’t want to go into details, but they suffer the consequences when they’re caught.”

“Leave it to humans to mess up anything good.”

“A Vision is a divine gift, and they should be grateful. But some use it for their own blasphemous reasons.” Ganyu frowned. “There are some really terrible people out there.”

Keqing had a Vision herself years ago as a mortal, an Electro Vision. It served her no more purpose as the Goddess of Love, but she remembered how much she’d initially hated it in the beginning. She’d cursed the gods so much at first, only to end up becoming one years later. Life worked in its own silly ways.

Visions. That was her last train of thought, and what happened next wasn’t anything too shocking: Keqing fell asleep without meaning to. That was normally how the energy drain affected her, after all, in moments she wasn’t expecting. It came in quick yawns here and there, until it hit her all at once. At least, that was what she assumed, because she was then waking up to Ganyu lightly shaking her shoulder.

“Keqing?”

“Here at your service,” Keqing mumbled, opening her eyes slowly.

“You actually woke up.” Ganyu sighed in relief. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up like last time.”

“I’m here,” Keqing said, surprised when she saw how close Ganyu’s face was to hers. “But I may fall asleep again any second.”

“Okay. It might be hard to get you out of here without anyone noticing if that happens.” Ganyu stood up, her hand still resting on Keqing’s shoulder. “Let’s walk you out while you’re still awake.”

“Sure.” Keqing stood up carefully, stretching her arms out as she yawned. “I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”

“Don’t be sorry. Let me just put this back on.” Ganyu turned around and slipped her hoodie over her head, pulling it over her torso.

Being in a half-asleep state was making everything difficult for Keqing, making her mind seem foggy, and she was surprised she was even awake for this. But it was a relief that she was awake, with no need to be carried out by Ganyu. They didn’t need any more false headlines about them.

“Ai mentioned that you had some kind of condition that causes narcolepsy,” said Ganyu, her eyes worried. “I know you said you weren’t deathly sick, but…”

“It’s nothing too serious. I know it sounds bad, but I’m okay.” Keqing patted her own cheeks with her hands, as if that’d help wake her up a little more. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I will worry.” Ganyu smiled, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of Keqing’s eyes. “But if you need help in any way, just say the word.”

“Thank you.” A small sigh left Keqing’s lips as she looked up at the sky. “I guess the fireworks are over?”

“They ended just a few minutes ago.” Ganyu quickly grasped her elbow as Keqing almost stumbled. “Careful.”

Keqing opened her mouth, and she knew she was going to start rambling. But the words still flowed out. “You know, I’m so glad I met you. And it makes me sad that I won’t get to spend more time with you.”

“When you talk like that, you kind of really do sound like you’ll be leaving this world.” Ganyu walked forward, pulling her along gently by the elbow. They were now out of the enclosed space with its dividers, and they were walking towards the crowd by the bar from earlier. “Let’s get going before you fall asleep again. Xiao’s waiting for us by the back doors on the first floor.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go, which is ridiculous of me,” Keqing said quietly. Her eyelids were starting to shut, but she fought to keep them open for a little longer. “I guess I’ll never learn to stop being greedy.”

“What did you say?” Ganyu asked, once they left the rooftop and were standing at the top of the staircase inside the museum. “It was too loud out there.”

“Just something useless that I said.”

“I don’t think you say useless things.” Ganyu carefully walked down the stairs with her, one step after the other. “Do you want to call Ai and tell her to come get you?”

“That’d be smart. Thank you.” Keqing followed her into the familiar rooms of the museum.

As they passed by Lanxi’s writing display, she felt a tugging sensation in her heart. But Lanxi and Ganyu would be a good match, she was sure of it.

Keqing lifted her left hand with the phone since her right arm was clinging onto Ganyu. She tapped on Ai’s contact information and brought the phone to her ear. Ai picked up after the first ring. “Can you come to Luhua Museum?”

“Be there in a few minutes,” Ai replied, hanging up right after.

“She’s on her way,” Keqing said, sliding the phone back into her pocket. “Thank you for bringing me out here today. It’s great to see Luhua being honored like this.”

“It was my pleasure. I should thank you for coming with me. None of my friends are big on museums.”

“You’ll have someone one day,” Keqing said softly, her mind drifting to Lanxi. Seeing how Lanxi’s writings were posted here, there was a chance she liked museums. And how nice would it be, for Ganyu to have someone to enjoy museums with for the rest of eternity?

“What?” Ganyu looked back at her. “I will?”

“I’m sure you will. Our lives are long, and someone will come by to be a museum lover with you.”

“Sure.” Ganyu laughed. “Let’s get you to bed soon. You’re already sleep talking.”

They walked for what seemed like forever until they saw someone in a sunflower costume by the back doors. Except Xiao had taken off the sunflower face head, so that his face was exposed.

“Ready to go?” Xiao asked, his gaze drifting back and forth between them. “You need a hand, Ganyu?”

“I’m fine.” Ganyu’s grip on Keqing’s arm slightly tightened. “Let’s go.”

Xiao pushed open the door, and the cool air of the night hit them immediately. Keqing blinked at the bright lights of the cars that passed by in front of them.

“I think I see Ai across the street,” Ganyu said. “Let me bring her over.” She turned to Xiao and grabbed the leaf part of the costume that was his hand. “Hold onto her just in case she falls over.”

Xiao did as she instructed. As soon as Ganyu was out of earshot, he turned to Keqing with a slight frown and called her name.

She squinted to get a better look at his face. “Hm?”

“I don’t understand exactly what your intentions are,” Xiao said, “but be careful with Ganyu. Consider this a warning.”

She stared at him, confused. Perhaps Xiao was just being protective. Before Keqing could find the words to respond, Ai and Ganyu came rushing over.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Ai said, breathing out a sigh of relief as she stood by her side. “I can take her from here. Thanks.”

“Of course. Get home safe and have a good night.” Ganyu smiled at the both of them, waving. “Thanks again, Keqing.”

“Goodnight.” Keqing felt herself smiling back as she waved. She watched Ganyu and Xiao get further from them, and she let Ai take them to the direction of their chauffeur’s car.

It hit her when she sat down in the car. In the few seconds before sleep called her name, Keqing felt herself stirring with the realization that when Xiao called her name earlier, he didn’t call her Keqing.

He called her Ferthur.

Chapter Text

Keqing was staring blankly at the white ceiling of the living room. “How does he know who I am?”

“You’ve asked this ten times in the past five minutes.” Ai tapped away on her phone. “Given his history as a Yaksha, he must know Morax. Maybe that’s how.”

“I don’t think Morax would go around telling random people about who I am.” Keqing frowned. “He’s a little uptight, sure, but that’s just something that the gods don’t mess around with.”

“I can’t think of any other reason.” Ai tilted her head. “Unless he knew of you from when you were a mortal, but even that doesn’t explain it.”

“I never met him as a mortal. Maybe he knew who I was since he was all over the place as a Yaksha. But… Nobody from my mortal years should’ve ended up finding out about my ascension.”

“I still think it’s because of Morax.”

It was starting to give her a headache. If Xiao knew, did that mean he could’ve told Ganyu? But she assumed Ganyu would say something if she knew. Or maybe out of politeness, she wouldn’t. They’d even walked past a shrine of her and Ganyu hadn’t said anything suspicious.

If Ganyu knew and wasn’t saying anything, Keqing didn’t know what she would do. And she didn’t even want to ask to see how much Ganyu knew.

Keqing made a slight grunt as she stood up and walked over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She was sighing every minute, and Ai finally looked at her with an arched brow.

Ai was putting her black hair up in a bun when she asked, “What’s got you in such a mood this morning?”

“I’m not in a mood.”

“You can’t fool me, Keqing.”

“Well.” Keqing poured herself water from the pitcher and sighed again. “That’s something I can’t tell you about.”

“If it’s about this whole Xiao issue, don’t worry too much. We’ll be back in Celestia soon enough and you’ll never have to see him again.”

“Right.”

“It’s not about Xiao, right?” Ai tilted her head. “You can be honest.”

Keqing took a sip of the water, momentarily enjoying the refreshing coldness of it. “You’re just going to laugh at me.”

“That’s what I’m good at, yes.” Ai gave her an innocent smile.

“Let’s just say I had a dream. A really good one, and I was upset to have been woken up from it so suddenly by a certain loud assistant.”

Ai laughed. “What was this dream?”

Keqing would rather be thrown into oblivion than have to admit it to Ai. That in her dream, she’d been given the chance to relive her kiss with Ganyu. She rarely had vivid dreams, but in the one last night, she could feel every second of it. Ganyu’s soft lips against hers, the warmth of the touch, which took away the cool feeling from the rain drops that fell on her skin.

Keqing brought a hand to her lips, and she turned away from Ai as she felt her face start to heat up. Just when she thought she’d moved on from the kiss, here it was, sneaking up on her again, hitting her smack in the face. It was quite ridiculous, honestly, that a first kiss could have such an impact on her. Perhaps this was what first kisses were supposed to be like. They lingered for the weeks after, even secretly making appearances again in dreams.

“Alright, I think I have an understanding of what this dream was,” Ai said, and Keqing was startled to see her standing next to her so suddenly.

The startled motion she made caused the water in her glass to slosh around, causing a small spill on the floor. “You didn’t have to scare me like that.”

“Despite being scared, you’re still touching your lips.” Ai laughed as she grabbed a towel on the counter and started cleaning up the spill. “As much as I’m glad you’re getting these experiences and all while you’re down here, I can’t help but worry.”

“About what?” Keqing asked, lowering her hand from her lips.

“The fact that you’re getting attached to her,” Ai said, her voice lowering. “I worry that you won’t be able to let go of her. We can’t stay here forever.”

“I’m not attached to her.” Keqing’s brows furrowed. “We’ll be leaving very soon, and I’m well aware of this. Matters call our name in Celestia.”

Ai stood back up, their eyes meeting. There was no trace of the usual amusement on her face. “Will you do it today, then?”

Keqing understood what she was referring to. Finally sending an arrow into Ganyu’s heart, sealing her fate to be matched with Lanxi. She felt the muscles in her hands become more tense. “I…”

“I know Ganyu’s wonderful. And I’m really glad that you’ve been so happy with her.” Ai’s eyes grew somber. “I want the best for you, Keqing. If the Elders were to find out—I can’t even bear to imagine it. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I understand, and I’m so blessed to have someone as caring as you to look out for me.” Keqing set down her glass on the counter and rested her hand on Ai’s shoulder. “You worry too much.”

“You are my goddess.” Ai bowed her head. “But you’re also my friend. Allow me to worry about you.”

Keqing took a step closer to give Ai a hug. “I consider you my friend too, Ai. I’ll do it later tonight. This is a promise.”

Ai let out a sigh, one that sounded like complete relief was leaving her, as her body visibly relaxed. “A true promise?”

“It’s about time.” Keqing nodded to herself, although it felt like she was trying to convince herself of the same thing. “We’ll set her up with Lanxi today.”

Ai pulled back from the hug and looked her in the eyes. “I still detect the reluctance within you.”

Keqing smiled weakly. “Can you blame me?”

“No. I don’t. If I had it my way, I’d like for you to stay with Ganyu however long you’d like.”

“I never even expected to get along with her at all.”

“I think you two make quite the pair. She’s a nice person.” Ai patted her shoulder. “At least when you go back to Celestia, you’ll still be able to keep up with what she does since she’s such a famous figure.”

“That’s true.” The words were just leaving her lips, but she knew in her heart that it was something she couldn’t see herself doing. It wouldn’t be the same. Not even a bit.

To have spent these weeks with Ganyu, literally breathing the same air together, had been much like a sweet dream. It was one she’d have to let go of so soon. And reluctance, as Ai had correctly guessed, was filling every part of her body, down to the very core. But here she was, looking Ai in the eyes and telling her she’d send the arrow into Ganyu’s heart today, all while knowing there was also a small chance she wouldn’t.

Lying was not the norm for Keqing. And yet, she’d been lying the most during her time here in the mortal realm in the past month, than she’d ever lied in her life.

It hit her again as she later texted Morax the picture she’d taken yesterday with Ganyu and Ai, saying, “Ganyu with Ai, her biggest fan.” Here she was, lying to another god. It was becoming easier each time for the lies to slip out of her. As all this deception flew around in the air, it also had her wondering if there were any lies she was telling herself.

All Morax did was respond to her with a link to a new article with his commentary, “Are you sure you are not her biggest fan?”

It was an article that once again speculated their relationship, with low-quality images of her and Ganyu from their day in Luhua. There were some shaky pictures from the street where they were holding hands, and some taken of their back profiles standing next to each other in front of paintings in the museum. She felt a twinge of nostalgia at the pictures. It had only been yesterday, but it already seemed like it had been so long ago. As if it had been nothing but a dream, never to be reached again.

➵ ✩

“Is this really necessary?” Ai asked, her voice transmitted through the wireless earphone.

“Very.” Keqing adjusted the glasses on the bridge of her nose. The reflection staring back at her in the small mirror in her hands was someone else entirely. She’d taken the form of a young woman with a dark bob cut, a round face, and a short stature. “It’ll only be for a short while.”

Ai’s sigh was clear on the other end. “I find this hard to believe. You’re going to get caught.”

“I just wanted to be sure.” Her mini mission had been a spontaneous decision on her part, but it was very much necessary. Mostly for the sake of her sanity. “It’ll be fine. I won’t get caught. Have some faith in me.”

Ai made an unconvinced noise. Keqing expected nothing else. Optimism was a skill that Ai still hadn’t learned—or, well, hadn’t been programmed to have as of yet.

Keqing had taken the physical form of Yueshu, a worker at a coffee shop on the edge of a busy corner in Wangshu. It was one that Lanxi frequented when she worked on her novels, which Ai had picked out from the vast information that the internet had to offer.

That was why she was here, taking Yueshu’s spot in this job for an hour or two while the real Yueshu was currently back in her own home in a sleeping state.

Keqing placed the hand mirror back on a shelf and stepped out of the small storage room. The small cafe was incredibly busy, and a whole line of people stretched out, waiting for them. She looked at the other worker, who hurriedly waved her towards the other cash register.

Keqing stepped forward, and Ai started giving her countless instructions through the earpiece about what buttons to click as she took the first order. The glasses Keqing was wearing had been made in Celestia, with lenses that served as cameras for Ai to see what was in front of her.

At one point, Ai muttered, “I never knew I’d see the day where the Goddess of Love was working a job as a barista.”

“All for a good reason,” Keqing said in a quiet voice as she stared at the counter after getting her first order of a blended chocolate-chip flavored iced coffee drink. “Help me out here.”

Ai rattled off the instructions, and Keqing followed along as best she could. But she messed up when she moved too quickly as she tried to keep up with Ai’s instructions, completely missing the instruction to put the lid on the blender.

A mess ensued. The remnants of the coffee were everywhere—on the floor, the counters, the walls, and even her apron. There was a beat of silence where the other workers paused to stare at her, while Keqing wiped away at some liquid that was on her face. She then spent five minutes looking for the mop from the closet, and she had to keep a straight face as she heard Ai’s cackles on the other end. The laughter was incessant, lasting at least a good two minutes. And it didn’t help that she was getting constant looks from her coworkers.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. She was still trying to keep an eye out for Lanxi, who wasn’t here. If her first drink order had already turned into a complete mess, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stick around longer to see the rest of the mistakes she’d make on the job.

“Are you okay, Yueshu?”

Keqing glanced up from the mop to see one of the young workers looking at her with a concerned expression. His nametag read Heli. His brows were drawn together as he wiped at the liquid that was splattered over the counters.

“I’m sorry, just feeling out of it today,” Keqing said, feeling her face start to burn from embarrassment.

“You’re awfully quiet today too,” Heli said, taking the mop out of her hands. “I’ll take care of this. Focus on making the drinks.”

“Thank you so much.” Keqing let out a breath she’d been holding as she walked away back towards the counter. She almost loudly sighed in relief when she saw that it was a woman with dark, loose waves coming below her shoulder, with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile.

Lanxi.

“Good afternoon,” Lanxi said, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she smiled. “How are you, Yueshu?”

Her voice was soft and soothing. It was a calming voice, but it somehow also caused a wave of annoyance to rise up in Keqing’s chest. She quickly pushed it back down.

“I’m doing well. How are you?”

“Good, I’ve hit a writer’s block, but I’m hoping I get to work past it today.” Lanxi lowered her head as she pulled out her wallet, then smiled brightly. “How was your brother’s wedding?”

Keqing was surprised by the mention of it. Of course, she knew nothing of it. She hadn’t expected Lanxi to know about Yueshu’s life to such an extent. She only smiled back and said, “It was beautiful, thank you for asking.”

“Lanxi, welcome!” said a voice behind her, and a few other workers also chirped in with their greetings.

Lanxi stood up taller and waved, her eyes lighting up as she greeted each of them by their names. Keqing was surprised once again. Lanxi seemed to know something about them all, considering the fact that she was asking Heli about how his mother was doing after her recent surgery.

Throughout it all, Lanxi was cheerful. Each and every one of her smiles reached her sparkling eyes, and her joy was infectious. She had all the other baristas all smiling and laughing—making it plenty obvious that Lanxi was loved by everyone here.

“I’ll have my usual,” Lanxi said, and Keqing blinked in response.

“I can’t find any information on her usual drink,” Ai said into her ear.

“The usual…” Keqing trailed off, staring blankly at the screen on the cash register.

“One iced Caramel Macchiato coming right up!” said Heli, coming right next to her as he rapidly tapped away on the screen.

Keqing gave him a thankful glance. Yueshu was lucky to have an attentive friend like him—although she suspected his attachment to run deeper than that. But if he was just as attentive, he had to be the one who’d see right through Yueshu’s strange behavior today. She’d have to be careful.

“Is that all you needed to see?” Ai asked.

Keqing turned her back away from the counter, saying quietly, “I guess. I don’t know. It’d probably be weird if I went up to her and talked to her, right?”

“Yes. You’re working a shift right now.”

“I suppose so.”

“We’ve already broken enough rules meddling like this. It’s okay, Keqing. She’ll be good for Ganyu.”

Keqing turned around, trying to see where Lanxi was sitting. But right in front of her was Heli, looking at her again with a worried expression. Literal puppy eyes. She only smiled and side-stepped to the right to look over his shoulder.

Heli cleared his throat before saying, “If you aren’t feeling well, you shouldn’t force yourself to work.”

“I’ll be okay,” Keqing said, flashing him a bright smile.

“Who even is this guy? He’s being so nosy,” muttered Ai.

Keqing found Lanxi sitting by the window with her laptop on the table. She was currently waving to a dog that was nearly jumping at her in excitement from the other side of the window. Even the animals loved her.

“Well, she’s obviously popular,” Ai said, as Heli started talking to her more about something she wasn’t interested in at all.

Keqing made a noise of agreement. Heli’s eyes lit up. The poor guy didn’t know that hadn’t been meant for him. But it had been pointless for her to do this after all. The information she gathered was good, sure, but truly not worth the amount of embarrassment she suffered. She was about to excuse herself to leave and switch places with the real Yueshu, but she stopped when she saw who entered the cafe.

It was as if Ganyu had heard them talking about her and been summoned. Or perhaps the God of Fate was laughing and intentionally making Ganyu appear in front of Keqing in the most convenient places. Ganyu strolled in wearing casual clothes, a simple white T-shirt and jeans, with her shades resting between the horns of her blue hair. A total contrast to the person she’d seen yesterday trying to hide herself in the baggy hoodie.

But it was too much of a coincidence to be running into Ganyu like this again. There was a hopeless desire within her, wishing for this to all be proof of something as silly as destiny. Fate could be the cause of bringing them together like this, but she knew that if it was the universe working in its strange ways, it had to be in favor of Ganyu and Lanxi.

“Well, would you look at that,” Ai said, whistling.

She didn’t have to be told. She was already looking intently. Everyone in this cafe was, some immediately whipping out their phones to snap pictures of Ganyu. It caused an unpleasant emotion to rise in her chest. Who did these mere mortals think they were, believing they were privileged enough to take pictures without her consent?

Keqing, with a hand behind her back, sent out a small bolt of Electro throughout the air. It was a weak one, as her Electro powers had weakened after lack of use since her ascension, but enough to do as she hoped and interfere with the power that ran through the phones. Confusion was rippling across the faces of everyone who had their phones out.

“My phone just died,” said one of the customers, and countless others started to join in, saying the same complaint.

Murmurs spread throughout the room. It was enough of an inconvenience for a good number of them to end up trickling out of the store as they searched for phone chargers or a better connection.

“Archons,” Ai said. “Did you just do that? Where did you even learn to?”

Ganyu looked around in confusion, pausing as she was saying her order to the worker. But she remained unfazed, turning around to continue talking as she wore one of her signature smiles.

Keqing tried to stay focused on her tasks. She really did. Ai was rattling off instructions to her again, this time on how to make a strawberry smoothie, but she felt her attention drifting to where Ganyu had walked off to.

“Don’t forget the lid on the blender,” Ai was saying, as Keqing watched Ganyu walk towards Lanxi’s table.

Lanxi waved her over first, with a face of total surprise. So it was an unexpected meeting. One that revealed that it was all due to fate working in its own ways. Possibly. Most likely. If it just so happened to all be the God of Fate working its strings, then it had to be a good sign. Her matches often coincided with the God of Fate’s decisions, anyway. It had to be a match with a hopeful future.

“Keqing. The lid.”

“Mhm.” Keqing turned her attention back to the blender, her ears keen on trying to pick up what was going on at the table. She heard the chair sliding against the floor as Ganyu took her seat.

“Ganyu hasn’t dropped by in a while,” said Heli, coming up to stand next to her as he pushed a button on a coffee machine. “She’s filming for that new movie. You’ve heard of it, right?”

Keqing was busy stealing glances at Ganyu laughing about something with Lanxi when Ai said, “I think he’s talking to you.”

At that, she turned to him, feeling annoyance bubbling within her as she said, “I have. Are you going to watch it?”

There was a spark of interest in his eyes. “Maybe. You know, there’s so much talk on the news about her and that purple-haired cat girl. What was her name?”

“Cat girl,” she muttered, sighing as she heard Ai’s laugh on the other end. “I think it’s Keqing or something.”

“Oh, right! Keqing’s her name.” Heli was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Were you thinking of watching that movie when it comes out?”

Keqing saw the hope shining in his brown eyes. It was only becoming more apparent by the minute that Heli’s feelings for Yueshu ran way deeper than she’d initially thought. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“If you ever decide you want to watch it,” he said, “just let me know.”

All Keqing did was smile in response. She felt awkward trying to make plans for Yueshu. Who knew what her actual feelings for Heli were? The last thing she wanted to do was walk into a date with someone that Yueshu could possibly hold disdain for.

“Hey, Yueshu, mind taking these drinks over to Lanxi’s table?”

Keqing turned to see one of the workers waving at her with two cups. Although everyone else came to the counter to pick up their orders, it seemed Lanxi and Ganyu got their own special treatment. It made sense, considering their fame. Keqing was also told to take a few of the cookies in the display as free treats, which had her brain thinking.

“Ganyu’s favorite cookies are blueberry cookies,” Ai said into her ear. “I’m saying this because I think I know what you’re up to. And I shouldn’t be encouraging this behavior, but…”

So all of the three cookies she placed on a small plate were blueberry cookies. As she walked towards the table with the drinks and cookies on a serving tray, she saw what the two were up to. Lanxi was showing Ganyu something on her phone as they both laughed. The small Electro move she pulled earlier seemed to have worn off.

As Keqing neared the table, the two paused as she placed the cups and cookies on the table. The cookies she set down on Ganyu’s side. “Please enjoy! These cookies are on us.”

“Oh, thank you.” Ganyu clapped her hands together in delight. “How’d you know I was craving these cookies?”

“I didn’t know you liked blueberry cookies,” Lanxi said, her eyes lighting up. “You know, I know a really good recipe if you’d like to try some of mine one day.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.” Ganyu smiled. “I’d love to make something you like in return too.”

Keqing gripped onto her tray tightly, and she had to force herself to keep her feet moving as she walked away slowly. This feeling that was spreading in her chest, it was weird and uncomfortable, the way it clenched at her heart. Whatever it was, it was making its presence known. But this feeling was familiar.

She was jealous. Jealous to not be offered to try one of Ganyu’s baked goods, whatever it was, because she knew it’d be good. And she had the silly idea of even taking Lanxi’s appearance one day to sneak over and try it the day it was supposed to happen.

But jealousy was cruel and unwilling to let go. This feeling didn’t leave her chest as easily as it had bloomed within her.

➵ ✩

“I don’t regret doing it,” Keqing said, watching from across the street as she saw the real Yueshu taking her spot back in the cafe. “I think Ganyu and Lanxi will get along well.”

“They will.” Ai crossed her arms. “What’s that look on your face?”

Keqing continued to walk forward, ignoring the wide-eyed looks people gave her. She’d said no to the shades Ai had tried to talk her into earlier, figuring it didn’t matter any longer. She would soon be leaving the mortal realm, anyway.

But she paused in her step when she saw someone on the other side of the street. It was Xiao, holding the leash of a white, fluffy dog. Keqing recognized the dog instantly as Yun, Ganyu’s puppy.

Xiao’s pale eyes narrowed on her. It was enough to make her nervous. The Yakshas were intimidating based on their history alone, but to have one with his eyes on her as if she were his target… Keqing felt goosebumps rising over the skin on her arms as she looked away.

The question repeated in her head over and over again, of how he knew of her identity. And if he hadn’t talked to Ganyu yet, would he soon enough? Would Ganyu hate her afterwards? For keeping it a secret, for causing such a mess with her failed matchmaking?

“Xiao looks like he’s about to start walking over,” Ai said, taking quick strides along with her. “This is a little frightening.”

“Just keep walking. Don’t turn around.”

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie. This sense of impending doom is a lot like what anxiety should feel like.”

“We won’t have to see him again after today,” Keqing said, feeling a slight pang in her heart at the thought of leaving. She wished she didn’t have to, but it was time. She’d delayed it long enough.

She wanted to say goodbye to Ganyu, but she wasn’t sure how. If anything, now was the time, but it would also get her a weird look from Ai. She’d dealt with her judgment enough already.

Perhaps a phone call later would do. A video call. She even wondered if Ganyu had caught on that she was a goddess. Her excuse for leaving had been pretty sloppy and terrible, saying that she would be going somewhere far for a long time. Even she would find that suspicious if she were Ganyu.

“Keqing!”

The voice stopped her in her tracks. It was a voice she knew all too well at this point, one that she felt a little too happy hearing. Of course, it was Ganyu. It was a delight to hear her voice, but Keqing also knew all of this would make leaving even harder.

Keqing turned around, her gaze falling on Ganyu across the street. Cars were passing by quickly between them, obscuring her view, but she saw Ganyu clearly. Her lips were pulled up into a big smile as she waved, with her other hand occupied with the leash as Yun jumped around excitedly.

“Hi!” Keqing waved back. They were getting even more attention from other people on the street now, but she couldn’t be bothered about it. Not that she ever was.

But she didn’t want to affect Ganyu’s reputation any longer with talks of them online. She pointed towards her phone, hoping that would insinuate that they could talk later, and Ganyu nodded. Ganyu waved once more before disappearing with Xiao into a car that drove off.

“Things could be a lot more different if she wasn’t so famous,” Ai said, clucking her tongue.

Keqing sighed. “A whole lot. Is there anything you want to do in our remaining time here?”

“There is one thing. There’s a pet store around the corner that I’d like to go to.”

Keqing raised a brow. “What do you need from a pet store?”

“They have a heart-shaped swing for birds,” Ai said. “I’d like to bring one of those back home.”

Keqing smiled. “That sounds adorable. How could I say no?”

And so they went, Keqing following Ai to the pet store. It was a small one with a cozy vibe, with an owner that happily inquired details about the pet bird that they were buying this pink swing for. Ai turned out to be a wonderful liar, quickly telling the owner about how they had an energetic blue bird at home with the name Hui.

There was no such bird named Hui back in Celestia. And this swing was big enough, obviously made for two birds to be resting on it. It was interesting for Keqing to see Ai fantasize about her own romance. It was endearing, even. Needless to say, Keqing got back at Ai for all the times she was teased about Ganyu before. Seeing Ai that flustered was a first for her.

➵ ✩

The video call from Ganyu came late in the evening. It was sudden, and the loud noise of the ringtone caused Keqing to jolt awake from her seat. She’d been dozing off without realizing as she’d been doing some last minute research on Lanxi.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up!” Ganyu said, her face filling the screen. “I just finally got a small break on the set, so I wanted to give you a call.”

Keqing blinked rapidly, as if that was enough to make her eyes stay open for longer. “Oh, I wasn’t sleeping.”

Ganyu laughed. “Okay, Keqing. I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you when I saw you earlier! I was on a tight schedule.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Keqing said, covering her mouth as she yawned. “How’s everything going on the set?”

“Good! A little chaotic, but good. Director Wu has been changing the script around again, but he’s made pretty minor edits this time.”

Keqing let herself take a moment to really look at Ganyu. Her hair was up in a bun, which made it easier to see the long silver earrings she had on. She looked pretty, as she always did, with a red shade of lipstick that pulled the attention to her lips.

“Everything’s going well, though?”

“Perfectly well.” Ganyu paused before saying, “I know you said you wouldn’t be able to make it to the premiere before. Is that still true?”

Keqing saw how hopeful Ganyu seemed to be, and she hated to have to say no. “I think it’ll be hard to make it.”

Ganyu paused for a second before nodding. “It’s a real shame. I’ll miss you, for sure.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Keqing said, her finger resting over the part of the screen that showed Ganyu’s rosy cheeks. This would have to be her goodbye, as she wasn’t sure how she’d admit that she was going far away. It was a conversation she hadn’t braced herself for. “I’m sure the movie’s going to be really successful. You’ve worked so hard during it.”

“You’ll watch it, won’t you?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

“Okay, great. Because you’ve worked hard for this too. It’ll be worth the watch.” Ganyu smiled, visibly perking up. “There’s also something I wanted to mention.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Don’t hang up on me, though.”

Keqing held back a laugh at how serious Ganyu looked. “I would never.”

“Okay. This is top-secret for now, but that company that made the peach juice I sponsored, they wanted me to advertise their melon juice.”

“Oh!” Keqing paused as she remembered the peach juice. The photocards. The embarrassment she’d faced that day. “Oh. That’s great!”

“I just wanted to let you know that there’s more photocards that will be coming out,” said Ganyu. “If you’re interested, I can give you them directly, so you don’t have to go around buying tons of them to collect them all.”

She knew Ganyu told her not to hang up on her, but Archons, she wanted to. Badly. But she also wanted to stick around longer to talk to her. A true dilemma.

“I’ll let Ai know,” Keqing said. “She’s the big collector here.”

“Right. I wanted to let you know so that you could tell her.”

“Thank you for the heads up.” Keqing was feeling her face growing warmer by the second. “Ai will be delighted to hear about it.”

“I thought so.” Ganyu laughed. “There’s going to be four legendary photocards this time, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I thought it’d be easier to give them to you in advance so you don’t have to go through the hassle.”

Keqing wanted to disappear. There had to be a reason Ganyu was referring to her directly instead of Ai. The cushion next to her looked really nice to hide behind. But she maintained the brave front she was putting on and smiled. “That’s really nice of you to offer. I’m sure Ai would be absolutely floored.”

“Of course. And I don’t mean to get too sentimental or anything, but…” Ganyu let out a soft sigh. “Director Wu was giving a speech earlier. He gets pretty emotional and dramatic, you know how he is. But he gave this whole speech on letting people know we appreciate them. Practicing gratitude and all that.”

It was a funny thought, imagining him doing all of that. “I wonder what came over him.”

“I don’t even know. But it got me thinking too.” Ganyu slightly hummed. “I’m grateful you became a part of this movie. And I’m grateful for all the wonderful moments we’ve shared together so far.”

“I’m just as grateful.” Keqing smiled, though she felt a sense of gloom within her. Their conversation was starting to feel more like a goodbye as it went on. “I’m glad I got to act in my first ever movie with you.”

“I’m just as glad.” Ganyu’s voice grew soft. “Meeting you has been a blessing.”

Keqing’s gaze went right to Ganyu’s red lips as she said those words. She thought back to her dream of their kiss, and she momentarily lost her sense of focus. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Ganyu sounded amused. “I’m really happy we met.”

“Me too,” Keqing said quietly. She wanted to add more to it. She wished she could stay. She wished she could get to know Ganyu better. And as unrealistic and foolish as it was, she wished she could relive her first kiss with Ganyu again. And again.

“Give me a second,” Ganyu said, slightly sighing. She glanced to her right, then back. “I’m being called for my next scene. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, bye! Good luck!” Keqing waved, and her screen soon went black. She didn’t have it in her to correct Ganyu and say that there would be no “later.”

It was time. As much as she wished it didn’t have to happen, it was inevitable. She’d spent the entire day trying to come to terms with it, and here it was.

With a heart full of dread, Keqing lifted the cushion from the couch and clutched it to her chest. It was the only source of comfort she could find right now.

➵ ✩

For the final matchmaking moment, Keqing slipped away to the rooftop of the apartment building. It gave her the solitude she needed. Peace and quiet from Ai, particularly, who was back in the living room playing some type of jumping bird game on her phone.

She lifted her hand, summoning a small bubble that filled the air slowly. It showed Ganyu in that very moment, surrounded by film cameras, as she talked to someone in the office.

Keqing had her other hand behind her back, enclosed around an arrow that materialized in her fingers. As the arrow appeared, she felt the slight weight of her classic bow that hung across her back. A small pink heart flashed beside her eyes, and she carefully picked at it to attach it to the edge of her arrow.

“Here we go,” Keqing murmured, drawing the arrow back in the bow as she aimed it towards the bubble.

Before she could let go, she felt a gust of wind rush over her. It was strong enough to knock her over, causing her to fall forward to her knees. The bow and arrow slipped out of her hands, clattering against the ground.

A glowing figure wearing a long-sleeved white dress walked towards her. It was a tall woman about two meters tall, who was looming over her. Her face looked fairly young, but her sharp cheekbones and piercing pale blue eyes seemed to suggest otherwise. Long white hair flowed down over her body, long enough to reach the ground.

Keqing gulped. The bright, radiating glow emanating from her was enough to know that it was a god ranking an extremely high status from Celestia—someone far, far above her.

A whole list of profanities streamed through her mind. Every single unholy word she’d ever known flashed through her thoughts as she bowed her head. It was silly of her, really, to think she could’ve gotten away with all of it. But there was a part of her that was not surprised. And not a single bit regretful.

“Ferthur,” the woman said. Even that word alone revealed an accent in her voice, one that she recognized as an ancient accent by its drawl and thickened vowels.

With such an accent, she already knew this woman had lived to see far more changes in the world than she had.

“How may I be of assistance?” Keqing asked, keeping her head down.

“You have been summoned by the Divine Elders.”

She felt something trickle down her forehead, and she wiped at with a hand to realize it was her sweat. Keqing let out a shaky breath. “As they wish. But my assistant, Ai, is still here—”

“Do not worry about her.” The woman walked closer to her, resting a cool hand on her shoulder.

There was a flash of light flooding her vision as they were swept away from Teyvat.

Chapter Text

The room was dark, eerily silent, and cold. Cold enough to immediately cause goosebumps to rise along her bare arms. Except, this wasn’t a room, now that Keqing’s sight was adjusting to the shadows. It appeared to be a massive circular cave with smooth, black glossy walls, and a small tunneling source of dim light that traveled from far above her.

Keqing had never once encountered the Divine Elders. Whether it was from luck or coincidence, she’d never had the need to be graced by their presence. But she knew that what she saw in front of her had to be them. Without a doubt, she knew. Perhaps it was the tug she felt in her chest, through the power that the Higher Rulers held over all of the gods.

There were three black orbs floating in the center of the cave, each emanating dark, smoky wisps from their cores. Keqing was startled to see that the Elders didn’t have a human-like appearance. She’d been imagining them to be solemn giant-like gods with intimidating glares that would have her regretting the moment she was ever born. But there was no semblance of a face on each of the orbs, although perhaps that made it a little more unsettling. With no visible expressions, it would only become harder to catch any hints of the Higher Rulers’ emotions.

“You will kneel,” said a voice from beside her. It was the white-haired woman who’d brought her here. She had the same stoic expression as before—not even a single muscle moved on her face as they stared at each other.

Keqing averted her gaze and lowered herself onto her knees, feeling the cold ground pressing against her skin as she bowed her head. Her hands were firmly over her stomach, but she realized her fingers were trembling.

And there was another voice. The Higher Rulers were altogether three ancient gods. But the voice that she heard was a singular one. It was a quiet voice, but the edge to it was unmistakable.

“Ferthur, are you aware of your wrongdoings?” The voice of the Elders rang around the cave, getting smaller and smaller with each echo.

There was a total absence of sound that remained after the echoes ceased. Keqing nodded slowly. She felt a chill run through her body as she replied, “I am aware. I have engaged in matchmaking services for a new acquaintance I met in the mortal realm.”

Silence was all she received. But she kept her head lowered, and her breathing started to quicken. Archons. What would happen to her? Her mind scrambled to the stories she’d heard in the past of what became of other gods that had caused anger in the Elders. One had lost their vision, another had lost their godhood, and the most notorious case was the disappearance of a god. No one knew what became of them.

Nobody even knew who the god even was. It was said that they just had ceased to exist, both physically and in everyone’s mind.

Keqing gulped. If she were to disappear… She couldn’t even finish the thought. It was too somber, too frightening to think about for even a second. She didn’t want to ever disappear without saying goodbye to Ai. And even Ganyu. She’d never gotten to say a real goodbye to her.

She blinked in surprise. To think that she was thinking of Ganyu in these moments as she knelt before the Elders.

“Are you claiming that Ganyu is a new acquaintance?” asked the Elders, the black orbs slightly releasing a faint, circular white light that shone on the ground.

“I have never met her prior to visiting the mortal realm recently,” Keqing answered, taking a deep breath. She would remain calm. She had to.

“Lying is a great offense, Ferthur.” The Elders paused, and the white light shone over her, scanning her from top-to-bottom.

Keqing let out a breath as soon as the light disappeared. “I swear that I am telling nothing but the truth.”

“You are being sincere. But to say that this was the first time you’ve met her, that is not the truth.”

Her brows furrowed. “When have I ever…?”

There was another beat of silence before the Elders said, “You are missing a portion of your memories. Are you aware of how this occurred?”

Keqing froze. The only discrepancy in her memories, the part of her she felt was missing, was whatever she’d gone through in the moments leading up to her ascension. But she had always assumed this was some form of repression, as it was the case with a few other gods. “I have no recollection.”

The light once again appeared, scanning her for a good minute, before the Elders finally said, “We will investigate this matter further. Until then, entry to the mortal realm is forbidden.”

Keqing slowly nodded, her brain not quite processing it all. “I understand.”

“Regardless of how you believe you first met Ganyu, you have still defied the Heavenly Principles. Services are not to be given to personal acquaintances existing prior to or following one’s ascension as a god in Celestia. You have provided approximately ten services to Ganyu.”

The Elders then continued to speak about each and every match she’d made for Ganyu, rattling off their exact names, along with the precise date and time she’d sent the arrows flying to their targets. Every memory of the matches that resurfaced made her slightly wince.

She was surprised they hadn’t mentioned anything about her making headlines with her rumored relationship with Ganyu. But she thought too soon.

A holographic screen appeared, right below her lowered head. On it were countless article titles, each with pictures of her and Ganyu.

“As the Goddess of Love, you have not been permitted to engage in your own romantic affairs. Explain your current relationship with Ganyu.”

Keqing’s gaze was stuck on one of the pictures of Ganyu smiling at her. It felt so warm and familiar, and she couldn’t bear to look away. She wished she could be sitting with Ganyu right now talking about the most random topics instead of being here, interrogated by the Elders. But alas, here she was.

“I am not in a romantic relationship with Ganyu, nor will I ever be,” Keqing said slowly. “Our paths crossed only because I was trying to offer her my services.”

A flash of light scanned her again, detecting the truth within her. The pictures of Ganyu smiling soon faded as the screen vanished.

“A total of ten services?”

“Every match failed, which was the first time that had ever happened. So I made the decision to personally visit the mortal realm to handpick someone for her.”

Now that she was saying it aloud, it sounded silly. So ridiculous, so trivial. She wouldn’t have done this if her pride hadn’t interfered with her decisions. But what use was there to curse herself for something she couldn’t change now?

The bright light disappeared again, and Keqing let go of the breath she’d been holding. Her neck was starting to ache from keeping her head bowed for so long, and her knees were starting to feel a little numb against the cold, hard ground.

“We will privately discuss the disciplinary action you will face. Ipos will inform you of our decisions once they are finalized,” the Elders said, and Keqing was left wondering who in the world Ipos was, but she figured it was the white-haired woman with them.

Before Keqing could even say anything else, such as begging for her vision to remain intact as the horror stories still crawled through her mind, there was another flash of white surrounding her. The Elders soon disappeared, and she was standing outside of an ancient red palace. There were trees boasting pink flower blossoms all around the front, and birds that rushed down to her to greet her presence.

This was her home. Keqing just now noticed that the hair tumbling down her shoulders was a light shade of pink. She’d somehow reverted to her Goddess form, most likely just as Ipos brought her to Celestia.

“While this investigation proceeds, you are not permitted to leave your residence,” Ipos said, slightly pausing as a white bird sat on top of her bare shoulder. “As you heard from the Higher Rulers, entry to the mortal realm is forbidden until further notice. This includes communication to and between anyone from the mortal realm.”

“I understand.” Keqing couldn’t help but notice the way Ipos visibly paled as the bird’s beak moved towards the woman’s cheek.

“Do you have any questions?” Ipos asked, slowly waving her hand towards the bird. The bird remained seated and unfazed with no intention to fly off.

She had too many. Her mind was spinning with the sudden influx of information from everything that had just happened. “About the consequences I may face…”

Ipos’ blue eyes were sharp on her. “What of them?”

“Is there a possibility I may lose one of my senses? Or even a chance that I may disappear completely?”

Ipos looked unfazed. “That is extremely unlikely. The Elders do not give out cruel punishments. Whatever you have heard, it may be the result of some of the gods’ grudges against each other, but the Elders have never done such a thing.”

Keqing felt her shoulders sag in relief. “That’s good to know.”

It was a delight to hear, to have it confirmed directly from another powerful god. It was all she cared about. She didn’t want to ever face the loss of her sight, or even her hearing—for how would she sense the beautiful world around her? How would she live with not being able to see the bright smiles of another, or hear their sweet laughter and gentle voice?

Keqing allowed the bird from Ipos’ shoulder to move onto her finger when she saw the woman becoming visibly perturbed as every second passed. “That’s the only question I had. Thank you.”

Ipos snapped her fingers, and a glowing wall started to form around the periphery of her home. It soon disappeared, becoming transparent. “As you are the main party involved in this investigation, movement will be monitored closely. You are not forbidden from visitors, but know that they will be watched.”

Keqing nodded, holding the bird close to her chest as it chirped. “I understand.” She never had many visitors to begin with.

“Until next time, Ferthur.” Ipos gave a curt nod before disappearing into thin air, leaving no trace behind.

Keqing stepped forward, walking up the staircase to the doors that greeted her. The doors swung open, and Ai was here. Back as the familiar pink bird she so loved.

“Thank goodness, you’re safe!” Ai flew forward, flapping her wings loudly. “Oh, I was so terribly worried. I was convinced you might die there.”

“Optimistic as always,” Keqing said, holding her hand out as the white bird flew away. “Did you hear everything Ipos had to say?”

“I did. I may have eavesdropped.” Ai flew behind her closely as they walked inside the home. “So there aren’t any grave consequences?”

Keqing’s steps slowed down. “I don’t know yet. For now, I can’t go to the mortal realm. And they’re saying there’s something wrong with my memories. I think I’ve met Ganyu before as a mortal, but I just don’t remember it.”

Ai blinked rapidly. “Wait. What? Really?”

“I don’t know, either.” Keqing ran a hand through the ends of her hair and frowned. “But they weren’t as wicked as I was expecting them to be.”

“We can’t be sure of that yet.” Ai sighed. “But maybe they'll show you some mercy.”

“You’re surprising me, Ai. You’re learning to see the positive side of things.” Keqing walked through her hallway, stopping in front of the Love Room, where she did her work. “I suppose all we can do now is to just hope for the best.”

Ai followed her into the room, where the familiar sight of thousands of bubbles greeted them in the air. “What in the world happened to your memories, then? Do you think someone’s messing with you?”

“I don’t know who would. I’ve never made an enemy out of anyone.”

Ai sat on her shoulder and let out a chirp. “You’ve said you can’t recall the moments right before your ascension. Maybe it’s someone who was angry about the fact that you ascended?”

“I can’t think of anyone from my mortal years. I worked with many different people, sure, so a lot of people knew me. But I never got on anybody’s bad side.”

“We don’t know that for sure. People harbor their own resentment, as they wish, in silence.”

Keqing gave a nod as she peered into a bubble showing a young man watching the television. A thin arrow materialized between her fingers, and she grasped the bow that was on her back. “We’ll just have to see if the Elders discover anything.”

“Should we be putting so much faith in those outdated, ancient men?”

“Ai.” Keqing suppressed a laugh as she shot the arrow into the bubble. It was the first time she wanted to laugh since everything that had happened. “You don’t have to be so honest.”

“It’s just unfair. These Heavenly Principles were made tens of thousands of years ago, and they serve no use anymore. They probably never did. Those old creatures should take another look at everything instead of hibernating all the time.”

“Why don’t you go and tell them that?” Keqing raised a brow. “Let me try to call Ipos back so you can have a word.”

Ai turned her tiny bird face to the side in obvious protest. “No. That’s something they can think about themselves if they’re so wise.”

“Nothing we can do about it.” Keqing sighed. “The Heavenly Principles have been in place forever. Those rules are all we’ve ever known. If they were to alter things now, then what happens to those that were punished for their violations previously? It’d just cause more of a mess.”

“I know. I just…” Ai sighed dramatically, her small head drooping down. “You were really happy in the mortal realm, you know. I wish you were able to enjoy the gift of loving another.”

Keqing couldn’t help but smile. She raised a hand to pet the silky feathers on the back of Ai’s head. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me.”

“But you know, maybe you’ll be able to love who you want one day.” Ai nestled against her hand. “I’ll be optimistic in this case.”

“Thanks, Ai. But it’s alright. As sad as it sounds, this has been the norm for me. For years and years. You know I’m used to it.”

“Sure, but that doesn't make it okay.” Ai raised her head to stare at her with her blue eyes. “It’s okay to crave companionship and love. That’s all a part of being human. Though you are a god, it doesn’t mean you ever lost your humanity.”

Keqing looked at her in surprise. “What happened, Ai? You’re being so wise and kind for once.”

“Forget I said anything.” Ai let out a short, high-pitched chirp, one that signaled her annoyance. She then flew off her shoulder, flying to one of the branches on the tall tree in the back of the room. “The one time I tried giving you advice.”

“I’m just kidding.” Keqing watched as Ai perched herself on the branch. “You’re the best. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be miserable without me, let’s just say that.”

“That’s a very true statement.” The slight cheer in her heart faded when she saw a message appear on the big screen floating to her right. It came in through Soar, the widely used messaging service between gods.

It was a message from Barbatos, with one sentence: Just heard you were called to the principal’s office, are you okay?

She stared in disbelief. Of course, only Barbatos would equate a visit to the Elders as a visit to the principal’s office. A fairly new modern concept that made little sense in Celestia. And how long had it been since he’d ever said a word to her? How did he even know about it so soon? So many questions were running through her mind.

Keqing replied with: How did you get this information?

There was nothing in response. She waited for a few seconds, then gave up and moved over to the next bubble. While she was in the middle of sending an arrow to finalize the match for this mortal, she heard a rapid succession of knocks on the window behind her.

“What the…?” Keqing turned around, her gaze falling upon a dark-haired boy on the other side of the window. She could recognize that goofy expression, those bright green eyes, and that green beret anywhere. But he was upside down—it seemed he was hanging from a tree branch. And that beret was still somehow resting on his head just fine.

“What is Barbatos doing here?” Ai asked, flying back over to sit on her shoulder. “He hasn’t shown his face to us in 621 years.”

“That’s what I’m wondering.” Keqing slung the bow over her back and walked over, silently wondering if she would regret opening this window. But she pulled it open anyway.

“Keqing! It’s been ages!” Barbatos said, slipping off the branch and landing gently on his feet—all with the guidance of the wind. “How’s everything going?”

“Barbatos,” Keqing replied, not even able to fake a bit of enthusiasm. “You can call me Ferthur.”

“Oh, come on! After all these years?” Barbatos grinned, his eyes widening. “You know you can call me Venti.”

“Barbatos it is.” She frowned. “Has word already spread that quickly?”

“Indeed, it has.” He sighed, shaking his head. His brows were furrowed, and his lips were in a slight pout. “Someone spotted you with Ipos just now. And if you’re with her, that just automatically means you spent some time bowing until your neck almost broke in front of the Elders.”

As dramatic as it sounded, it was also a little too accurate. “So what brings you here?”

“I just wanted to drop by to help!” Barbatos perched himself on the windowsill, crossing his legs. “Whatever it is that you may need.”

Keqing eyed him warily. “I am not sure if you could be of any use. I also want to warn you that Ipos is keeping an eye on whoever comes in and out of here.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. Classic Ipos move, but we aren’t breaking any rules here just talking.” Barbatos hummed, tapping his chin with a finger. “I remember the first time the Elders interrogated me about something years ago. It’s not easy.”

“It’s not a big deal, really.” Keqing really didn’t feel like telling him and running the risk of the rest of Celestia somehow finding out about it. “But thanks for your concern.”

He looked at her without another sound leaving his lips. The lingering question in his eyes was clear, the concern in them. Concern—this was the first time that she was seeing him worried about her.

Ai finally chirped in, “Thank you for your uninvited presence, Barbatos. But we are handling everything just fine.”

Awkward silence ensued. They were all standing there, looking at each other, waiting for someone to say something first.

And Keqing thought hard about it. She was grateful for Ai. But if Barbatos was here, she figured she could try and get something out of it. If she could find a way to ask a question without giving away too much information.

Keqing hesitated a second before asking, “Have you heard of anyone who can alter memories?”

Barbatos raised a brow. “Of course. I know a good list of people who can. Did someone mess with yours?”

Keqing shared a look with Ai, whose eyes were full of suspicion. She’d known Ai for long enough to recognize any bits of emotions from her eyes alone. But there was no clear look of danger in those small bird eyes. Was it a good move to trust him at all?

“Well, I guess I don’t even have to ask.” He tilted his head, his turquoise braids falling across his face along with the movement. “If you’d like me to get you the list, I can.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she answered, nodding curtly. “Thank you, Barbatos.”

“Anytime! I’ll send it to you later.” He looked between her and Ai, before continuing, “But you know, I could honestly pinpoint who may have done this. Altering someone’s memories isn’t easy. You have to be close enough to them to gain the power over those memories.”

Keqing clasped her fingers together. “Is that so?”

“It is. I don’t mean to pry, really, but there’s pretty much only one other god that I’ve seen acquainted with you often,” Barbatos said.

“Unfortunately, that’s a true statement.” Ai shook her little head dramatically. “My goddess, as wonderful as she is, lacks friends.”

Keqing ignored Ai. She already knew who it was likely to be, that is, if whatever Barbatos was telling her was in fact correct. But she trusted his judgment. He was quite literally an Archon, and he frequented the palaces of different gods around Celestia more than she did. His knowledge of their ways were far greater than hers.

“I’ll reach out to them.”

“Sure thing. Reach out to me too if you need anything.” Barbatos gave her a wink and hopped out of the window. “Good luck! Don’t be too intimidated by the Elders. They’re old and powerful, sure, but they’re not going to try and ruin your life. The last time I got called by them was when they caught me sneaking wine into their temple.”

He disappeared into thin air. Keqing was flabbergasted by his bizarre confession as his last words. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know the reason for that story.

She closed the window and leaned against it. “What a surprise visit that was. The only other god I’ve been somewhat close with is Morax.”

“Only Morax. I don’t think I count all those gods asking you for matchmaking favors, and then you rejecting them rudely each time.”

“Rudely is an interesting word choice, my friend.”

“Just two months ago, you told the God of Harvest it was his own fault he wasn’t finding any love when he asked for your assistance. That there could be nothing done for him to find someone.”

“That’s because it’s the truth. With his prickly personality, nobody can ever know when he’ll find true love.”

Ai let out a sigh. “That poor man. But about Morax, do you really think he would be the one to have done something to your memories?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know why he would. And I don’t know how I would even ask.”

“He’s usually blunt. I don’t think he’d mind you asking in a straightforward manner.”

“Probably not.” Keqing waved her hand in the air, where a rectangular screen appeared. She tapped on the messaging system, where Morax’s name popped up. Her index finger hovered over his name.

She was hesitating every second of the way. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know that Morax, of all people, had been the one to do something to her memories. Her feelings towards him were complex, but this would make it even more difficult.

“We don’t have to do it right now.” Ai flew right into the holographic screen, until its pixels dissipated. “It’s been an overwhelming day. You should rest. Leave it to the Elders to figure out.”

Keqing nodded, taking a slow step forward. “I just feel… so vulnerable. If it was Morax, then he has something to do with whatever memories I lost from my mortal years. It’s kind of a scary thought.”

“It’s definitely scary to know that he knows something we don’t. But Morax is a just man. He wouldn’t do something out of malicious intent.”

“We can only hope that’s the case.” Keqing gestured for Ai to follow her. “But they said I’d known Ganyu previously. I’m going to look through some of the historical books we bought long ago on a trip to Liyue. Maybe that could reveal something.”

“You played a big role in the distribution of food during the Archon War, didn’t you? Perhaps Ganyu had some correlation to it.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

➵ ✩

Dust flew in the air as Keqing pulled a thick book from the shelf. Ai flapped her wings wildly to disperse the dust particles, all while Keqing coughed and waved at the air with one of her hands. She brought the book to the desk next to the shelf.

She flipped through a few hundred of the yellowing pages until she landed at the beginning of ten chapters that were solely dedicated to the Archon War. She scanned the pages until she landed at a section describing life in Liyue during the war. It was a long block of text full of precise dates for different battles and skirmishes that broke out.

There was only one sentence that gave any sort of information about the job she did during the war. It was barely anything to give any clues, just that there were people who worked tirelessly to cook and give food to those who were in need during the war. It was grouped in with the mention of people who offered their homes and those who sewed warm clothes for many during the war.

But that was it. There were mentions of Ganyu in this book, to highlight her bravery in the war while fighting alongside Morax, and for being one of his notable favorites. It even described how Ganyu and Morax would take time once a month to have a warm feast together as they celebrated their battle victories and shed tears over the many soldiers they lost.

Keqing remembered wondering once if Ganyu knew about Morax in the present day, as the director of Stone Productions. If they had been so close in the past, it was obvious that there was a good chance the two still kept in contact.

There were paragraphs describing Ganyu’s many feats during the war, how she was so loved and admired by the villagers from different towns that she often visited. The roads she walked, people threw flowers on. Cheers rang out in every corner of the towns she frequented, all from villagers who admired Ganyu for her humility and good heart.

There was even a drawing in one of the pages. It had been drawn by one of the young villagers who admired her greatly, and it showed stick figures that were somewhat detailed enough to show Ganyu carrying a small baby sitting on her shoulders. Both of them had their eyes closed, with big, open grins on their faces.

Keqing brushed a finger over the simple drawing. Though it lacked color, it was enough to make out the fact that Ganyu was wearing a long dress with an apron. Even in simple, everyday clothing, Keqing had a feeling she still managed to look elegant.

“Wait.” Keqing peered closer at the drawing. “She’s wearing an apron.”

“You’ve told me once you used to work at different kitchens across all sorts of towns to help with the meals.” Ai was starting to sound excited. “Maybe the two of you crossed paths once in one of the kitchens. Though I wouldn’t expect her to. Wasn’t she out in the battles?”

“It says that she loved connecting with all the villagers, even cooking with them at times. Maybe that was her way of bonding with them.” Keqing tapped a finger against the book. “As far as I know, I can’t recall my memories of Ganyu or even what went on during my ascension. Who knows what else I’m missing recollections of.”

“Let’s backtrack.” Ai perched herself on the edge of the book and looked up at Keqing. “Tell me everything you know concerning your ascension.”

“It’s all the same things I’ve said to you before. I don’t have any memories of the moment I ascended to Celestia. As soon as I came here, I woke up in this palace and a nameless person told me I was now the Goddess of Love. Thanks to all of the matchmaking I did when I was a mortal.”

Ai let out a small laugh. “Nameless person. I’m sure they had a name.”

“They definitely did. But that’s not too important.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

“Reading these historical accounts isn’t helping much.” It also wasn’t helping the part of her that was already regretting not having said a proper goodbye to Ganyu. Keqing pushed the book away and stood up. “We’ll ask Morax tomorrow. For now, let’s catch up on the work we have to do.”

“We also need to set up a new clone for when you need it in the future. The one that was here while we were in the mortal realm wasn’t looking too good.”

“Do I even want to know?”

Ai made a soft noise of disagreement. “It’s gone now. But… She definitely looked like she’d seen better days.”

“Got it.” Keqing pushed in her chair and looked at Ai. “Once the Elders do find out what happened with my memories, the consequences shouldn’t be too bad. Hopefully. They said I’d still face disciplinary action.”

“No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together.” Ai puffed out the feathers on her chest. “We’re resilient and strong.”

Keqing felt herself smile. “I appreciate your continued optimism. It’s very refreshing.”

“It’s us against the world.” Ai let out a small chirp. “Is there a possibility of you getting banished from Celestia entirely if they discover something went terribly wrong in your past? Possibly. But no matter what, we’ll—”

The smile on her face faded away. Keqing interrupted, “Okay, that’s enough. I’m not letting you speak those terrible consequences into existence.”

But Ai continued to babble on about her calculated possibilities of the likely outcomes, while Keqing’s mind drifted to other matters. Such as what Ganyu could be doing at this very moment. Was she busy on the set, filming a scene? Was it raining in Liyue? If it was, was she enjoying the feeling of the raindrops on her skin?

Curiosity got the best of her. When she was back in the hallway, she was sitting on a small bench with a screen in front of her. It displayed the latest search results for Ganyu, with the top being a recent post from one of her social media accounts. It had been posted just a few hours ago, and it was a singular picture of Ganyu posing in front of a mirror with a thumbs-up. Her hair was hanging down in soft, long waves, which had Keqing wondering what it would be like to run through with her fingers. And seeing her do the thumbs-up was such a familiar sight that it made her happy.

“You miss her already?” Ai asked, and her sudden voice caused Keqing to startle.

“I didn’t know you were here.” Keqing watched as Ai flew over to perch on her shoulder. “But… Yeah. I guess.”

“Maybe everything will work out in a funny way and you’ll be able to see her again soon.”

Keqing suppressed a laugh as she looked at her assistant. “Are you really Ai? What happened?”

“It’s been a wild day for you. I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

“I’m doing just fine. Thanks, Ai.” Keqing waved a hand in the air, letting the screen disappear as she stood up and stretched. She knew she was lying, and she had a good feeling Ai had also caught on. “There’s a lot on our to-do list. Back to work we go.”

Business in the Love Room went by as usual. But her mind was filled to the brim with all sorts of thoughts, ones that concerned what the Elders would decide, if it was really Morax who had touched her memories, and in what ways she’d known Ganyu in the past. As relieved as she was to have escaped the initial wrath of the Higher Rulers as she’d been expecting, she was also beginning to be consumed by dread for what was to come. She’d come this far for centuries without ever recalling the exact circumstances around her ascension—and she wasn’t sure if she’d be ready to know the truth.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Ai was giving Keqing all sorts of possibilities for conversation starters. For a conversation with a certain God of Contracts, to be exact. Her first suggestion was to try saying, “Morax, I’d like to talk to you about the likelihood of you interfering with my memories.”

“I don’t think that’d work out in the best way.” Keqing pursed her lips as she gave Ai a look. “That’s starting off the conversation with an accusation.”

Ai seemed unfazed. “Okay. Then how about this? You can say. ‘Morax, let’s have a cup of coffee. Come over when you’re free.’”

Keqing couldn’t imagine herself saying that to Morax. He’d probably be wondering what in the world had gotten into her. “You know what, I don’t think this is a good idea at all. I’ll let the Higher Rulers figure this out using their own wisdom.” She gulped. “If Morax really did something, I’m not sure how to approach that sort of conversation.”

Ai’s wings fluttered in the air as she tilted her head. “The Elders will probably work it out with Ipos. Some say she’s able to reveal events of the past. So if you don’t want to confront Morax, we can forget about it.”

“The rest of the possibilities in the list Barbatos sent me… They’re all names of gods I’ve rarely interacted with. So none of them would know me enough to have that kind of power over my memories.”

“We’ll wait until we get further instructions from the Elders.”

Keqing nodded. “Hopefully that takes a good while. I’m not sure if I want to be back in that cave so soon.”

And then she tried to focus on her tasks for the day, although she found it extremely hard to do. She hadn’t even gotten a good amount of sleep last night. Not when she was worried about what she’d be faced with in the days to come. Ipos had assured her that the Elders wouldn’t give out cruel and horrific punishments, but she was still intimidated by the unknown. Scared of what her past relations were with Ganyu, and if uncovering them would put her in danger. The last thing she wanted was for Ganyu to get involved with any of her own mistakes.

If something were to happen to Ganyu, Keqing was sure that she’d never be able to forgive herself. Ganyu had been nothing but kind and understanding to her—if Keqing were to pay her back by sending the Higher Rulers after her… Keqing couldn’t help but wince at the thought every time.

And distraction was becoming her new best friend. She was currently waving a few fingers in front of a bubble to watch it spin as her thoughts entered their own world. The man inside this bubble was standing on a bridge, holding hands with his current lover—although the match that Infinity System made for him was someone else.

“Keqing?”

She glanced up to see Ai looking between her and the bubble. “Hi.”

“You’re playing instrumental music from ancient Liyue, which you only listen to when you’re stressed about something.” Ai flew around in small circles, something she did when she was deep in worry. “How about we get your mind off things?”

Keqing shrugged, her hand moving away from the bubble as it stopped spinning. “I’m open to any ideas.”

“How about…” Ai swept aside the screen displaying Infinity System with a wing and summoned a new blank one. “Can we watch Ganyu’s latest interview? It was released just yesterday.”

“A fitting suggestion coming from her biggest fan,” Keqing said, smiling slightly as Ai gave a roll of her eyes. “Alright. Turn it on. It’ll help for sure.”

“You know, if only I could grab her and sneak her in without anyone knowing, so that you could talk to her.” Ai then frowned. “Wait. But Ganyu’s never said anything about meeting you before.”

Keqing shook her head. “No, she hasn’t. When we met, it was like I was meeting her for the first time.”

“Then that must mean her memory was messed with too. Morax and Ganyu have known each other for ages.” Ai’s eyes widened. “He’s really becoming the prime suspect here. He’s meeting all the right criteria.”

“He is.” Keqing’s brows furrowed. “I wonder what even happened for him to do this. Maybe we upset him.”

“Maybe you pissed him off.”

“That’s a likely possibility.” Keqing snorted. “But I’m sure he had a valid reason, whatever it was. He wouldn’t act on a whim.”

Ai brought up a bright blue screen with a familiar halo logo on it. It was Soar. “We could always ask.”

Keqing swiped at the screen with her hand, making it disappear. “Today, I have decided to act as a powerless fool.”

With a loud sigh, Ai pulled up the page of Ganyu’s interview on a new screen. “We’ll get our answers soon enough. I’m just an impatient bird.”

“Oh, that’s an easy fix for me. I’ll just have to shut you down and reprogram you to be more patient.”

“Your empty threats mean nothing to me.” Ai hummed as Keqing huffed. “Okay. Are we ready? Oh. Perhaps we should get you some popcorn for this interview.”

“I’m fine. Let’s start.” Keqing leaned forward and tapped on the video, making it play.

Ganyu’s beaming face was smiling at the camera as she introduced herself. She was wearing a long-sleeved navy blue dress, and her hair was down, all long and wavy. Her smile was refreshing to see, and Keqing was hit with a wave of… whatever this feeling was. She already missed her.

Now that she wasn’t allowed to enter the mortal realm for an indefinite amount of time, she wasn’t sure how to feel. Normally, it would have no effect on her. But now, she had a friend there. A good friend. The first friend she’d made in literal centuries. A friend she hadn’t said a proper goodbye to before being swept away back home.

“What can you say about your upcoming movie, Live for Me?” the interviewer asked.

Ganyu’s eyes lit up as she spoke, “The movie’s about a young woman called Jingli who’s in love with her penpal Yuming. Without giving much away, all I can say is it’s about dealing with heartbreak and learning to find yourself.”

“Sounds like we’ve got an interesting tale in store for us.” The interviewer leaned forward, as if they were about to trade secrets. She asked, “Can you tell us anything about one of the other characters? Specifically, a role played by a certain purple-haired lady?”

“They’re not smooth at all,” Ai piped in.

Keqing raised the volume of the video. This was an important piece of information they’d be hearing.

“That’s Ruijin, Jingli’s best friend. They’ve been friends since they were kids.” Ganyu leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. “She plays a significant role in Jingli’s life.”

“Can you say any of that translates to your real life, as well?”

Ganyu smiled. “It’s been a true delight to get to know Keqing. I haven’t known her for long, but she’s already become a special friend of mine. So I can say yes, she does indeed play a big role in my life.”

“How sweet!” The interviewer clapped her hands. “Perhaps one day we can catch the both of you in an interview.”

Keqing missed the rest of what was said afterwards. Her mind was stuck on the kind words Ganyu had said about her. The way Ganyu said her name in such a soft way struck a chord in her heart. But instead of feeling happier than before, she was left with the feeling of melancholy lingering in her chest.

“You know, I’m not so sure if this really helped me or not,” said Keqing, her gaze remaining on the paused frame of Ganyu waving at the end of the video. “This made me feel worse.”

“Oh, Keqing.” Ai flew down to sit on her lap. “She won’t forget about you. And you won’t be banned from the mortal realm forever. As soon as you’re free to go, you’ll just show up and surprise Ganyu with your presence. Then the two of you can bond over different foods and rituals from ancient Liyue and try to act like you fit in the modern world again. Even though you don’t.”

Those ridiculous words were enough to cause some of the sadness within her to fade as she laughed. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“I mean, really. They can’t ban you forever.” Ai crossed her wings in front of her body. “If anything, I can try and sneak myself in there with you.”

“I think Ipos would catch on fairly quickly.” Keqing felt goosebumps rise on her arms as she thought of the goddess. “Speaking of her, let’s hope I don’t have to see her for a while. Maybe for another week. Just to recover from everything that happened yesterday.”

“Her presence has been known to be icy. It’s a surprise that she doesn’t have any affiliation to the Cryo Vision.”

But as always, Keqing realized she’d spoken too soon. Or perhaps it was just her foolish, shortsighted thinking in believing that the Elders would need a great deal of time for their investigation.

Because Keqing was swept back to the cave fairly quickly, just two hours after saying her wishful desires aloud. It happened when she was truly minding her own business in the Love Room, as she always did, sending off arrows, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It had startled her and nearly sent the arrow flying in a totally different direction, but Ipos had caught it swiftly with her other hand.

“You are to be brought back to meet the Divine Elders,” Ipos said, handing the arrow back to Keqing. “Are you ready?”

“Will I ever be?” Keqing asked, sighing as she caught her breath. The arrow dissolved into thin air, and she caught sight of Ai flying towards them. “My assistant—”

Without even glancing towards the direction of Ai, Ipos replied in that thick drawl of the ancient accent she had, “She is not to come with us.”

“I trust that you’ll be okay,” Ai said to her, then to Ipos, “Please bring my goddess back safely.”

“Ferthur is not to be harmed.” Ipos placed a hand on her shoulder, and white light filled her vision once more as they were taken to the cave.

She knew it was the cave as soon as a gush of cold air greeted her face. Her hair strands were all flying back as she knelt down on the ground, without waiting for Ipos to instruct her this time. She kept her gaze trained below as she heard the voice of the Elders echo through the cave.

“Ferthur.”

She shivered, whether it was from the low temperatures of this room or the intimidating presence of the Higher Rulers. It was most likely both combined.

“At your service.”

“We have traced the issue of your lost memories to another act performed by a god. In doing so, this god has also violated the Heavenly Principles.”

There was another person that suddenly appeared beside her. It was a man kneeling down, with his head lowered to the point where she couldn’t catch a glimpse of his face. But she recognized that dark hair with its long golden ends.

“Morax,” she mumbled, and his head slightly turned to the left until they were looking at each other. “It’s nice to see you here.”

There was a flash of emotion in his amber eyes. “Ferthur.”

“We will allow Morax here to explain the circumstances regarding your memories,” the Elders said, and there was only complete silence that followed.

Keqing watched as Morax sat up straight, his hands resting on his lap. They were stable too—with not even a single tremble to them. He was calm and composed, unless he was being fearful in silence. But Morax had fought in hundreds of bloody battles in the past. This had to be nothing in comparison to those.

“I acknowledge my wrongdoings.” Then he paused, and Keqing raised her head to look at him better. He was directly facing the three orbs where the Divine Elders were, and she was startled to see the gall he possessed to even look at them directly, until she saw it.

He didn’t have a choice. There was a sliver of light slipping out of one of the orbs, streaming out to raise his chin. The light moved upwards until it was revolving around his head in circles. It had to be their powers that detected the truth, but she wasn’t sure why it wasn’t a simple scan, or why it was moving around his head like that.

“I violated the Heavenly Principles by providing my services to another god. In this case, I signed a contract with Ferthur.” Morax’s voice was steady and didn’t miss a beat.

A frown quickly formed on her face. She’d never once made a contract with him. The loss of her memories had to be extensive enough to make her forget that fact, as well. She took a deep breath in anticipation for what he would say next. This was it, the moment she’d been mostly dreading for the past day.

“Roughly 2,700 years ago, around a few months after her ascension, Ferthur approached me with a request.”

Her stomach sank.

“Her plea was made in regards to her lover.”

There was complete silence for a second. She forgot to breathe. She sucked in a sharp breath as she murmured, “My lover?”

Morax was still in whatever trance he was kept in by the Elders, his gaze pointed straight ahead. “Ferthur had a lover prior to her ascension. Her lover grieved her death tremendously. Due to the Heavenly Principles, we cannot disclose the nature of our ascension to those in the mortal realm, after all. The day Ferthur came to me, she begged for me to relieve her lover of all of the memories that they’d made.”

As she listened, she was completely frozen. Not a muscle in her body moved as her thoughts raced in her mind. The only words echoing inside her head were her death her death her death her death her death her death. She always believed her ascension had followed after some kind of inspiring moment that had struck the hearts of the Higher Rulers, causing her to be swept up to Celestia.

Not whatever this was. Her mortal demise.

“Wait,” Keqing said, feeling her hands growing cold as she wrapped her arms with them. “Can we slow it down a little bit?”

The bright light surrounding Morax disappeared, and his body visibly relaxed. He turned to her, his golden eyes round and full of concern. He reached towards her, saying, “Ferthur, listen to me—”

Keqing fell backwards onto her hands as she avoided his touch. “Wait. I’m sorry. I just need a moment.”

The Higher Rulers spoke, “We may take a break if you need, Ferthur.”

She felt her breathing start to quicken as she raised a hand to touch the top of her head. “Yes, please. I’m not feeling too well.”

There was a soft noise behind her, and she turned to see that it was Ipos sitting behind her. She was about to ask why when she found the world spinning, and she fell right onto Ipos’ lap.

➵ ✩

“You should take the opportunity to inform her of the past occurrences. It would be fitting for me to leave the room when you explain.”

“Morax, as much as I highly respect you, that is not a wise decision. It’d be better for the news to come from yourself.”

“I caused her to faint.”

“I think that was just from the content of what you said. It wasn’t necessarily your fault.”

“You do not have to lie to make me feel better. It’s alright.”

Keqing slowly opened her eyes. It was enough to recognize this as her bedroom, with its white walls and large windows that overlooked the clouds below. She also saw a pink bird flying in the corner, hovering around Morax.

“She has now risen,” Morax said, and Ai rapidly flew to her.

“Keqing, you’re awake! Thank the Archons,” Ai said, as Morax chimed in, “You’re welcome.”

Keqing sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Morax… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Allow me to give you my sincerest apologies.” Morax walked closer, but he kept his distance at the foot of her bed. “I was only doing as you requested. It was part of the contract we made.”

That was becoming very clear. The fact that she’d been the one to initiate all of this, to make him violate the Heavenly Principles. She had no right to resent him for any of this.

“Am I ready to hear about this contract?” Keqing asked, and Ai sat on her lap. She lifted a finger, which Ai grasped with her claw. She felt a bit of comfort at that.

“It would be better explained with these,” Morax said, reaching into the pocket of his coat. He extended his hand towards her, his palm facing up. “Do you recognize these?”

She did. There were three golden rings resting on his hand, and they were too familiar. They were Ganyu’s rings.

Her gaze flickered back to him. It was a question she already knew the answer to, and yet, she still asked. “Did this contract involve Ganyu?”

Morax looked at her without a word for a good moment before he finally said, “She was your lover.”

Ai chirped. “Remember to keep breathing, Keqing.”

Keqing stared at him and then laughed right in his face. “No way. There’s just no way.”

“These rings,” Morax said slowly, “two of these each hold their own memories. I had to take them back from Ganyu to show these to the Higher Rulers for examination.”

Keqing took a deep breath as her brows furrowed. He wasn’t joking at all, based on his expression. This was how she’d truly known Ganyu in the past? As lovers? “I know you’re probably speaking the truth right now, but I’m finding it really hard to believe you.”

“That is expected.” Morax held up one of the rings, the one with small vines all around it. “Now that our contract has been terminated, per the orders of the Divine Elders, you have the choice to observe the memories contained in this ring.”

“Just observe?”

“There’s no way for me to directly return these memories back to you,” he said, bringing the ring closer to her hand. “Once you wear this, I’ll allow you to see your memories. It will be like you’re in a dream, but you will be observing these events from afar. You can walk and talk as if you’re there. But nobody will see or hear you, as these are all past events.”

Keqing hesitated, looking down at Ai. She was nodding rapidly and flapping her wings.

“We’ll be here waiting for you,” Ai said. “Take all the time you need.”

“Will it show me all of my memories related to her?”

“Before you gave your memories away, you picked out the ones you wanted saved in this ring. For when you would need to see them at some point. So it would not be all of them.” He then lifted another ring, the one with small golden braids on it. “This one has Ganyu’s memories. Her subconscious sorted out the selected memories to preserve.”

“Okay.” Keqing gulped. “Is Ganyu aware of this news, as well?”

“I haven’t told her anything yet. She was already in immense shock over me being able to take the rings off her fingers,” Morax said, a small smile on his face. “I wanted to leave that decision to you.”

Keqing’s head was starting to hurt. She carefully took the ring from Morax’s hands and slipped it through her index finger. “Okay. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this, but… I would like to see these memories.”

“As you wish.”

“One more question. What happened with the Elders? Have they decided upon the consequences we will face?”

Morax pursed his lips. “We can talk about that later. Too much of everything may overwhelm you again.”

Keqing exhaled and nodded. She rested her head back on her pillow, taking slow breaths as she watched Morax place a hand over her ring. She wasn’t even sure how he was still here just fine. What would his punishments be for violating the Heavenly Principles? What were the punishments for herself?

Everything seemed to be a complete mess.

➵ ✩

There was a stream nearby. And there was the sound of the rush of its water, the soft chirps of birds, and a faint rustle of leaves from the trees around her.

Keqing saw herself. She was kneeling at the stream, collecting water into a few wooden buckets. Her purple hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and she was wearing long gray robes with an apron.

“Keqing, there you are.”

She turned around to see a girl with dark blue hair walking towards her. She recognized her instantly. It was Xiangling, her close friend from her mortal years. She was one of the most experienced chefs, the one who’d taught her rookie self so much about cooking.

Seeing her friend after so many years filled her with a deep sense of joy. And sadness.

“I’m coming,” she heard herself say, as she stood up with two buckets hanging off each of her shoulders. “Did you need me for something?”

Xiangling quickly walked forwards to take some buckets to hold for herself. “I had some big news for you. There’s a famous half-adeptus here to visit and check on how our food production is going.”

“A famous half-adeptus. Who is it?”

“Ganyu. You’ve heard of her, I’m sure. She’s always visited this area frequently, long before you joined us.”

“I think I’ve heard of her.” The two of them began to walk towards the building where the kitchen was. “Is she a food quality checker?”

Xiangling laughed. “No, no. She’s fought in the war all this time. But she actually helps us greatly when she comes to visit. Everyone loves her, so I’m sure you will too.”

Keqing followed behind Xiangling and her younger self, but her steps were quick and impatient. She started walking far ahead of them, to where there was a small crowd forming in front of the building. She pushed past the shoulders of people in this crowd until she was at the center.

It was Ganyu. With her classic horns and long blue hair, which was in a loose ponytail. She was in long black robes with a bow hanging off her back, currently hugging a young child who was crying into her arms. Ganyu had a rounder face, with wider hips and more of a curvy figure from what she could see. And she looked beautiful. Keqing stood still, just staring for a moment, in awe over this rare opportunity to be able to see Ganyu so closely once more.

“Thank you for saving my life,” was what this young boy was saying between his breathy sobs, while the crowd let out a hum of aww’s and sighs.

“You’re very welcome.” Ganyu smiled and patted his back. “Be a good boy, will you?”

He jumped up to hug her tighter. “I will, forever and ever!”

Keqing turned her head to see herself and Xiangling taking a peek at the commotion before walking through the doors of the kitchen. Except it was Xiangling who went in first, but she saw herself hesitate at the doors, her gaze trained on Ganyu.

Ganyu must’ve felt her gaze. She turned her head slightly, until she was looking at her younger self. Ganyu gave a small smile, which had her quickly turning around and walking into the kitchen.

Keqing sighed deeply. She wanted to hit the back of her own head. Was it that hard to smile back before barging back inside? If she could get a smile from Ganyu right now, she would smile back instantly. Perhaps she’d even shed a tear. She’d appreciate each and every smile she got, saving them in her mind and holding them all dear to her heart.

The memory then suddenly faded to the next. The environment blurred until she was inside. She recognized it instantly as a kitchen. There were candles that were lit up around the counters, spreading a warm yellow light, and the small windows gave a glimpse of the starry night sky outside.

Ganyu was here, placing wrapped pieces of rice buns in small woven baskets. It seemed that she was making the food baskets that would be distributed to the townsfolk nearby.

Her past self was here too, standing about a few meters away, stirring a large pot with boiling stew in it. They were the only two people in the big kitchen.

“I heard you’re new,” said Ganyu, softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“I arrived only a few weeks ago,” her younger self responded, her gaze trained on the pot.

“You won’t even look at her,” Keqing mumbled, watching in bewilderment. How was she to believe that they’d really been lovers?

Ganyu had a small smile on her face. The calming, gentle nature of it hadn’t changed after all these years. “I believe I’ve heard of your family name.”

“My father’s side is well-known for their business in the trading ports.”

“Ah, that must be it! How wonderful.”

There was silence that ensued between them. Keqing walked forward, her hands resting behind her back as she stood next to her younger self. She caught a glimpse of the faint blush on her cheeks and her ears.

Oh.

“Do you visit frequently?” she heard herself ask.

“I try to! This is a wonderful reprieve for me,” answered Ganyu. “I love being able to connect with the people here.”

Her younger self looked up at that and nodded. “Everyone here is so welcoming and kind. I almost burned this place down when I first started, but they’ve let me stay.”

Keqing cringed and looked away. To think that she was admitting such embarrassing failures to someone she’d just met. Was it part of the immaturity that came with her young age at this time?

“That’s very unfortunate. But I’m glad they didn’t kick you out.” Ganyu sounded amused. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Her past self only nodded in silence. Keqing was not impressed. But if she lacked the social skills now, she probably couldn’t expect the same from herself all these years ago.

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Keqing finished stirring the pot. She then looked at Ganyu, asking, “Would you like balm later for your hands?”

Ganyu’s hands paused in the middle of packing a basket. Keqing took a few steps forward, squinting at her hands. There were many scars along the back of her hands, some that were light and faded, and some that looked like they’d been formed more recently.

Ganyu’s eyes were slightly widened in surprise, and she lowered her hands under the table until they weren’t visible. “Balm?”

“Forget I said anything, I apologize if I offended you.” Keqing’s past self averted her gaze, awkwardly sweeping a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I just thought I should ask.”

Ganyu then raised her hands in the air, towards the light of the candle. “You’re quite observant. I’ve gotten a few comments before about how rough my hands feel.”

“It’s trivial, really. Compared to all the sacrifices you’ve made for all the people of Liyue.” Keqing saw herself turning a little more pink. “Please forget about what I said. I spoke too rashly.”

“No, no. I really am interested in this balm. I’ve been a part of this war for a while, sure, but I ask you to see me not as a soldier but… a fellow friend.” Ganyu took a small step closer. “And as a friend, I’ll really take your advice on using whichever balm you have. I’d like softer hands for myself.”

A smile appeared on her face. “Then I will bring it to you tomorrow.”

The memory then faded, the surroundings rippling away until Keqing found herself sitting on the ground in a room with Ganyu. Sunshine was streaming in through the windows, illuminating their faces.

“This balm was made by one of the best doctors in my town.” Keqing saw herself handing Ganyu a small jar wrapped in cloth. “It heals your skin very quickly, especially if you apply it before you sleep. The farmers from where I’m from swear by it.”

“I will use it well. Thank you, Keqing.” Ganyu took it and placed it away into a pocket in her cream-colored robes. “But I feel awful taking this without giving you anything in return.”

“There’s no need to worry about that. Truly. You’ve already done your part.”

“In the war, you mean?” Ganyu smiled. “Perhaps it would’ve been better if you’d never known about who I am. I’m getting a little too much praise.”

“You’d like me to not mention any of that at all?”

“If you still want to, of course, I wouldn’t be able to stop you.” Ganyu pulled her legs closer to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. “Is there really nothing you’d like from me in return?”

Her past self was quiet. She then fiddled with her fingers, before asking, “You wield a bow, correct?”

Ganyu raised her brows. “I do.”

“Could I request a lesson or two?”

Keqing was watching from the corner of the room, her eyes widening as she began to understand where this conversation was going. This had to have been where she learned to use the bow and arrow. To finally understand now that the skill she’d used for thousands of years had been from Ganyu… She felt goosebumps spreading over her arms.

Ganyu didn’t respond. So Keqing heard herself say, “If that’s too grand of a request, please ignore me. I understand that you’re already busy enough contributing time where you’re not fighting battles to be here.”

“Oh, I was only thinking of where we’d have our first lesson.” Ganyu’s eyes reflected the amusement in them. “The answer is a definite yes. What inspired you to take an interest in archery, if I may ask?”

“It seems so beautiful, so precise. Like its own form of art. But my father was always against me learning it because he claimed it was not fitting for me. That no man would love a wife whose hands maneuvered such a dangerous weapon.”

“Your father…” Ganyu trailed off, then bit her lip as she looked away. “It would be better if I did not say.”

Keqing’s past self raised a brow. “No, please do tell. I’ve never heard anyone speak against my father once. It would be quite refreshing.”

“Oh, it was a rude thought. Better off unsaid.”

“I insist. I am sure it was completely true.”

Ganyu hummed slightly. “Well… I suppose I was trying to say that your father is a coward if he’s afraid of you learning to use any kind of weapon.”

Keqing saw herself laugh. “That wasn’t rude at all. It’s something I’ve been thinking of my whole life. As much as I love him, he has plenty of his own flaws.”

Ganyu had a small smile playing on her lips. “And don’t we all.”

“We do. But he tends to have a greater amount of flaws than others.” Keqing saw herself stand up, pointing towards the door. “I must get back before Xiangling starts making a fuss about me not working.”

Ganyu asked, “Would you have time tomorrow morning for our first lesson? Preferably early, around sunrise.”

Her eyes slightly widened. “Of course. Where would you like to meet?”

“Do you know where the big red sandbearer tree is if you travel across the path down this hill? Next to the small fountain where the squirrels like to dance around.”

“I will be there.”

The memory quickly switched into the next. The next few flashbacks began to blur together, the ones of her learning how to use the bow with Ganyu teaching her. Ganyu guided her hands, her elbows, her back, trying to show her proper form.

Keqing watched it all, how she was initially so terrible with a horrendous form—it was nearly embarrassing for her to even watch. But the only thing that made it worth reliving was seeing how Ganyu was so kind, just as patient and understanding as she’d been when she was teaching her how to improve her acting. And some part of her even wished she could’ve remembered this for herself, the feel of Ganyu’s warm touch guiding her every move.

And then the next memory was her outside on a rainy evening. She saw herself walking along a path full of pebbles, but she stopped abruptly. This was a busy path, with all sorts of people walking past her in hurried motion to escape the rain.

But her past self stood there, holding an umbrella as she stared ahead. The sound of rain bouncing off the ground and the umbrella filled her ears. Keqing followed her gaze until she saw a small outdoor restaurant, with wooden tables and seats covered by a red roof. At one of the tables sat Ganyu. There was a man next to her—it was Morax, the two of them deep in a conversation with Ganyu looking concerned.

Keqing watched as she continued to stand for a few seconds longer before turning and walking off in the direction of her home. She recognized this path. And she knew that restaurant. She remembered that it was the path she’d intentionally take, one that was a long way home, all so that she could catch a glimpse of a beautiful woman.

The memories flipped through, showing each different evening where she was walking home after working. Some nights Ganyu was there at the restaurant, some nights she wasn’t.

But it had been Ganyu all along.

Chapter Text

The memories were endless. One easily swept into the next, showing more scenes of her in the kitchen with Ganyu. Their faces were lit up by the warm yellow candlelight as they softly laughed and shared stories with each other.

And in every moment, she could see herself falling for Ganyu. It had to be obvious to everyone. How her eyes would light up whenever she talked to Ganyu, along with the faint blush on her cheeks, and the fiddling of her fingers over the edges of her clothes. But she also saw the subtle glances Ganyu would sneak toward her. And her past self was oblivious to every one of them.

The memory she was seeing now was at an outdoor feast, with a faint sound in the background of someone playing the guzheng. It was a dinner where everyone was celebrating one of the recent victories in the war, as they were all gathered outside around a long rectangular table. It stretched out far, but Keqing quickly identified her younger self sitting right next to Ganyu.

Xiangling was sitting across, pouring each of them rice wine. “Ganyu, you’ve surprised us by making such frequent visits. We thank you for all your help, despite how busy you are.”

“It’s truly an honor to be helping in whatever way I can.” Ganyu raised her wine cup, then brought it to her lips.

Keqing saw herself take a small glance at Ganyu before sipping from her own wine. “You’ve spoiled us too much with your help. All the kids in the village ask for you whenever you’re not here.”

“I promise to be here more often, then.”

Both of them were smiling at each other, and even Xiangling looked a little flustered. She looked between them before asking, “So, Ganyu, have you heard about Keqing’s special talent?”

Ganyu leaned forward in interest. “Special talent?”

“Keqing here has a little nickname she’s made for herself—Liyue’s Matchmaker!”

Keqing saw herself turning a shade of pink. “That’s an overstatement.”

“Liyue’s Matchmaker,” Ganyu repeated, amusement shining in her eyes. “That’s an adorable nickname.”

“She’s been able to pair up so many people into long lasting relationships. The majority of them are even already married thanks to her,” Xiangling said, grinning widely. “Speaking of, Keqing, I’d like to have the privilege of finding my own fated match, blessed by your hands.”

“I’m still looking for someone for you.” Keqing then nervously looked towards Ganyu. “What about you?”

Ganyu hummed. “What would you like to know?”

“If you’re…” Keqing’s voice faltered, and Xiangling let out a small laugh.

“I think she’s trying to ask if you’re interested in finding someone for yourself,” Xiangling said.

“Oh.” Ganyu took a sip of her wine and then smiled faintly. “No comment there.”

Xiangling’s energy visibly simmered down. She awkwardly scratched her chin. “Ah. That’s understandable. Who has time for a relationship when you’re busy fighting a war?”

Keqing’s past self also seemed to have deflated. “Right. You’ve got other priorities.”

“Perhaps one day,” was all Ganyu said. “I don’t know if I would have enough time right now for a relationship.”

The following memories moved by swiftly, enough for them to blur one into the other. Some of them showed her archery lessons with Ganyu, and there was one where she hit the target right on the spot—which got her an excited laugh from Ganyu, and the beaming expression on her own face took even herself by surprise. It was such pure joy and innocence.

Years of living hadn’t totally erased the joy from her life, no, but Keqing was taken back to see her so… happy around Ganyu. But it made sense. Ganyu’s presence was truly special and unlike any other—her effect on her in the present day was no different.

The memories slowed until Keqing was standing outside, and it looked to be a dark evening. There was the incessant pitter-patter of rain. The raindrops fell quickly, obscuring her view until she saw herself standing in the center of the path, sharing an umbrella with Ganyu. She stepped forward, getting closer. Close enough to see their expressions. Ganyu looked gloomy, her eyes large and full of apologies.

“Would you like me to give you an answer right now?” asked Ganyu, her voice steady.

Whatever it was, it didn’t sound like it would be good news. But she sounded so calm, as always. From what she suspected, Ganyu was about to deliver some kind of blow to her heart. The contrast between the hope on her own face, to the somber look that Ganyu was wearing, was all enough to tell her that she herself had been the one to admit something a little too personal. A confession, perhaps.

“Whenever you would like.” Keqing fidgeted with her fingers, then cleared her throat. “But I don’t expect an answer. I just thought it would be right for you to know. We’ve known each other long enough.”

“I appreciate the great amount of courage it must’ve taken you to say it,” Ganyu said, holding the umbrella closer above Keqing’s head. “But I do not think I can give you the answer you’re hoping for.”

“That’s okay.” Keqing nodded, then gave a big smile. “I was expecting you to say that.”

“It’s not because you’re inadequate in any way,” Ganyu said. “You’re wonderful in all aspects, Keqing. You’re beautiful, kind, and your heart is made of gold.”

“You flatter me.” She laughed. “I don’t need an explanation. Really.”

“I know you don’t. But…”

“You can be honest, whatever it is.”

Ganyu visibly hesitated before she said, “I shouldn’t say, but we’re close enough that I feel as if I can be honest. And maybe this sounds cruel. But… If we were both able to grow old together, perhaps my answer would’ve been different.”

Keqing slightly winced as she watched this interaction. She didn’t see herself reacting well to this. Although this was years ago, she was sure that her stubbornness wouldn’t have changed. If anything, she’d see it as a challenge.

And that was what happened.

She watched herself ask Ganyu, “So this is because of your immortality?”

Ganyu, however, seemed finished with the conversation. She tugged the coat that Keqing was wearing closer to her neck and said, “It’s chilly out. You should hurry inside.”

Keqing took a glance around, her gaze focusing on the house with a blue-tiled roof in front of her. It was her home, one that she remembered she proudly purchased with her own hard-earned money. She was hit with a wave of nostalgia as she stared at it, and all the memories that came along with it.

“If you are ever in need of staying the night, you are always welcome.” Keqing’s past self turned back around to take another glance at Ganyu. “I don’t mean it in a strange way.”

“I understand.” Ganyu laughed and placed the umbrella in her hands. “Take this and go in. Goodnight, Keqing.”

“You’ll be drenched.”

“Rain does not bother me.”

“I’ll take this, then. But it will mean you will have to return for it.”

“Of course.” Ganyu looked amused. “You haven’t scared me off with your confession.”

“Good.” Keqing took a few tiny steps back, then called out, “Goodnight, get home safe!”

She was impressed by her own strength—if she were to get rejected by someone like Ganyu now, she wasn’t sure what she would do. She’d probably flee to the hidden corners of the world and never show her face to Ganyu again.

But the next few memories just emphasized how strong their bond seemed to be. Friendship, or whatever it was. The conversation from that rainy night created no awkwardness, and they even seemed closer than before. More comfortable with each other.

As time passed by in these flashbacks, Keqing saw herself seemingly fall for Ganyu even more. It had to be months that passed after the confession. And as much as Ganyu tried to seem uninterested, it was becoming clear that her feelings were reciprocated.

It was apparent that they were spending more time together, as the memories grew longer. The archery lessons were becoming more frequent, and in those, Keqing was able to see the glances and smiles Ganyu gave her when she wasn’t looking. Ganyu was opening up to her more about her emotional struggles during the Archon War, which resulted in many shared moments of comfort, hugs, and hand-holding.

The topic of immortality being a barrier to their relationship never once came up again. Even still, it didn’t have to be said. Ganyu’s reluctance to initiate any intimate acts of touch was clear, and Keqing seemed to respect it completely.

But there was even one memory where Keqing was sure Ganyu would kiss her. Their heads were close to each other as they sat huddled under a tree, resting and bathing in the sunlight. It happened when they turned their heads at the same time, their gaze catching on each other’s lips.

Neither of them moved for a few seconds. It was silent, except for some loud chirping from the birds hanging on the branches of the tree above.

Keqing’s younger self broke the silence, asking, ”Is it correct to assume that my lips will never know the warmth of yours?”

Ganyu turned her head, a laugh breaking out of her. “You’ve become even bolder than before.”

“I can’t help it.” Keqing smiled, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the tree. “It wasn’t even a question. We both know the answer.”

Ganyu looked at her, and her eyes were completely full of emotion. Longing. But she said nothing. It was becoming a pattern: Ganyu’s reluctance, Keqing’s persistence.

Keqing even watched herself end up plucking a small blue flower and tucking it in Ganyu’s hair, below one of her horns. It was a sweet gesture, one that had even Ganyu slightly blushing.

“Let this be your good luck charm.”

“I’ll keep it in my hair for my next battle,” promised Ganyu.

Everything quickly faded away into ripples, until the scenery changed and Keqing saw Ganyu running in the night. She wasn’t even watching where she was going, nearly stumbling over branches and remnants of destroyed buildings. Keqing recognized it as one of the small towns in Mingyun Village—and it seemed as if it had been hit by a rough battle. Trees were split in half, wooden planks from buildings were scattered around, and there were ripped clothing pieces lying on the ground.

There were several lost children along the way that Ganyu comforted, helping them to find their parents. But she was looking around frantically, her eyes wild. But searching for what? Had she lost a friend here? Was Keqing supposed to be here?

Keqing followed quickly after Ganyu. She was almost hard to keep up with. There was a dimly lit building at the end of the path, where smoke was floating upwards from a campfire held outside. A crowd of people were there, presumably the survivors. Some wept, while others seemed frozen in shock.

“I’m looking for someone,” Ganyu said to an elderly woman, although both of them seemed fairly distracted. Ganyu’s fingers were tapping against her crossed arms—Keqing had never seen her so restless. “Have you seen a young woman with purple hair? She also has pointy buns on the top of her head. She’s about my height.”

“I’m afraid not, dear.”

Ganyu continued to ask around, her words becoming more rushed with each question. More frantic. But nobody had an answer for her.

As Keqing watched from afar, she had a sinking feeling in her chest. Was this how she died as a mortal? But that didn’t make sense. In all the memories up until now, she hadn’t truly been in a romantic relationship with Ganyu. They were not lovers.

Had she really died before even truly getting to love Ganyu? If so, she wasn’t sure what to think. It would’ve been awfully unfortunate for her to miss her one and only chance at love prior to her ascension.

“There’s a good chance that she’s still out there somewhere,” said the elderly woman as she slowly shuffled over to Ganyu. “Folks have been showing up here for the past hour.”

Ganyu turned around, a slight smile on her face. A forced one. “I really do hope so. I will be going to look for her.”

“Be careful.”

Ganyu looked around for what seemed like forever. But she finally came across a hill, her steps slowing as a large tree came into view.

“Keqing,” Ganyu whispered.

Keqing was there, standing in front of the tree, her arms stretched upwards. A closer look was enough to show a little boy sitting on a high branch of the tree, a frightened expression on his face.

Ganyu took off dashing towards the tree, her voice louder as she called, “Keqing, are you okay?”

“Ganyu! I’m fine.” She slightly jumped in surprise as she spun around on her feet. “Are you okay? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Qinxgu Pool?”

“You’re safe.” Ganyu engulfed her in a tight hug. “I was worried sick.”

“I thought you were handling the surge of evil spirits over there.”

“It has been done. Then I received report about the attack here.” Ganyu pulled apart from the hug, her hands cupping Keqing’s cheeks. “I really thought…”

“That you lost me?” Keqing sighed as the cries of a child loudly filled the air. “We can talk later. Can you help me get this kid down?”

Ganyu stepped closer to the tree, her brows furrowed. “How’d he get up there?”

“When he saw the monsters… He climbed all the way up there to hide. Now he’s too afraid to get back down.”

As expected, Ganyu worked her magic. She was soothing, her voice calm and soft as if everything was alright in the world. Once Ganyu mentioned seeing the boy’s family back at the shelter, It was enough for the boy to stop crying and wipe his eyes before taking a big leap down.

Ganyu caught him in her arms, holding him tightly as she turned towards Keqing. “Let’s go.”

Once they were back at the shelter and the boy was reunited with his teary-eyed parents, Keqing found herself sitting with Ganyu in a quiet room. They were eerily quiet as Keqing watched herself wrap bandages around Ganyu’s scratched arms. Perhaps she had been injured from the unlucky event that had transpired at Qingxu Pool. Keqing didn’t hear herself ask.

“I’ve been thinking really hard about something,” Ganyu said in a hushed voice. “It might sound ridiculous.”

“Nothing that comes out of your mouth is ever ridiculous.”

“I…” Ganyu released a shaky breath. “The thought of losing you is terrifying to me. I cannot even try to fathom it.”

“Don’t worry yourself trying to,” Keqing said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Ganyu’s ear. “I’m here right now, safe and sound.”

“You’re here, and that’s what matters most.” Ganyu caught her hand, hanging onto it tightly. “What I’m about to say… I should’ve realized it sooner. I’m a fool.”

“You are no such thing.”

“I am. I was selfish, worrying about something too far ahead of me.” Ganyu slightly lowered her head, as if in shame. “I was always too afraid of ever losing you. But the regret I was feeling all these hours I spent looking for you just… felt like cold water was poured all over me. It made me understand something so obvious.”

Keqing stared at Ganyu. “And what is it?”

“I’d rather spend as much time as I can have now than live for an eternity without ever knowing what it’s like to love you,” said Ganyu, talking quicker than she’d ever heard her talk. “I know it’s been nearly half a year since you spoke of your feelings for me, and who knows if you still feel the same—”

Keqing interrupted, “Just kiss me.”

“But I’d like to give it a try, though it will be my first ever—wait, what?”

Keqing tilted her head in an act of confidence, though her cheeks were showing off a growing blush. “You heard me. My life is short, and the time is ticking, so what are you waiting for?”

Ganyu blinked. Then, her face also began to turn a shade of red. “Wait. I need a minute to process this.”

There was an unspoken understanding between them. The two of them gave each other the minute to let everything sink in. And then Ganyu leaned forward. Keqing’s view of the two of them was now obscured, but she didn’t bother moving around to get a better look at the kiss.

She was too busy standing in the corner of the room, in shock over the realization that her first kiss really hadn’t been the on-screen one she filmed with Ganyu. But her first had been with Ganyu all along. Her brain still couldn’t understand that this was all real, her past with Ganyu.

The whole memory was touching. But what was especially moving was the blue flower that Ganyu had on her hair the entire time—as if it was truly her own lucky charm. It filled her chest with a warm feeling.

The room then faded away, morphing into a scenic view outside. There she was, taking a stroll with Ganyu on a path that was completely surrounded on the sides by tall red and white flowers. The two of them were holding hands, and they were nearly stuck to each other’s sides.

They stopped in front of a small sculpture of an intricate rose, each of its petals carved out to perfection. Ganyu got closer to it, her eyes wide and full of admiration. There were countless words that left her dainty lips, all in praise of the art piece.

Keqing’s past self seemed to have her attention elsewhere. She had pulled something out of the sleeve of her clothes, but Ganyu hadn’t taken notice of it yet.

“I think I know this sculptor,” said Ganyu, pausing as she ran her finger over the small wooden inscription. “She once had a small showcase in town.”

Keqing looked at her. “Oh, really? How long ago?”

“I think that was about fifty years ago.” Ganyu tilted her head. “Her art was unforgettable, but so was her face. She had these beautiful silver eyes.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, she said, “Really.”

“I’ve hardly ever met people with silver eyes.” Ganyu turned her head, her brows raised. She then laughed, leaning forward to kiss her on the lips. “I know that face you’re making all too well.”

Keqing only huffed. “I’m not making any kind of face.”

“If you say so.” Ganyu hummed. “Her eyes were pretty, sure, but they were honestly nothing special compared to my favorite pair of eyes.”

“You have a favorite?”

“I do.” Ganyu’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “They’re this gorgeous shade of magenta.”

Keqing mumbled, “Are they staring at you right now?”

“Indeed.” Ganyu grasped her hand and tugged at it, bringing her past the sculpture. “I’m the luckiest person alive to have such a beautiful soul in my life.”

Keqing saw herself turning red as she said, “I should be the one saying that.”

“Then we’re both the luckiest people alive right now.” Ganyu smiled, leaning forward for another kiss. One that was longer, one that left behind the sound of soft giggles in between.

Keqing sighed, taking a glance around the trees. Whatever it was, she figured it was better to look at. It was a little awkward to stand here watching herself kiss Ganyu, so she spent the next few seconds distracting herself with the details on the leaves hanging off a branch near her head.

“I have a gift for you,” she heard herself say. “Can you hold your hand out for me?”

Keqing turned around, her gaze drifting towards Ganyu’s outstretched hand. Her past self held onto it with one hand, and the other slipped a golden ring onto her fourth finger. It was one she recognized, the thin golden band.

“Keqing.” Ganyu’s voice grew soft.

“It isn’t the prettiest ring out there, but… I wanted you to have something you could wear that could remind you of me—of my love for you, when you’re away. And it could be something like a promise for a bright future ahead of us.”

“I absolutely love it. Thank you.” Ganyu kissed her cheek. “What about you? Is there a matching ring I can put on your finger?”

“There is.” Keqing watched herself reach back into her sleeve and pull out a small pouch. A ring shook out onto Ganyu’s open palm—one that she did not recognize as something that Ganyu had in the present day. “I didn’t want to have it out, you know, just in case you rejected it all.”

Ganyu laughed. “That would never happen.” She smiled and slid the ring onto Keqing’s fourth finger. “I’m sure this ring will protect me in all my battles ahead.”

“I wish that could be true. If I were a god, perhaps I would’ve been able to bless your ring to protect you from all harm.”

“You don’t have to be a god. Your love is enough protection. Truly.”

“Maybe I’m not a god. But some god out there must’ve blessed our lives, pouring some luck so that I could meet you.” Keqing pressed a kiss to Ganyu’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The memory then faded, and the next ones passed by quickly. They were all at a familiar spot she so loved—Luhua Pool. Its clear ponds shimmered underneath the sunlight as she sat relaxed alongside Ganyu. In another memory, her head was resting against Ganyu’s lap as the two relaxed near a pond where frogs leaped.

It was a moment that emphasized their hope for the future.

“One day, after tension eases in this area, we can get settled together in a nice home by a pretty stream. We’ll raise a few dogs, maybe also a cat, but also heaps of flowers in our yard,” said Keqing, all while Ganyu looked at her with complete affection.

“Whatever you’d like,” Ganyu said, running a hand through her purple hair. “We’ll get a home big enough to suit all your needs.”

“Even if I somehow want ten dogs?”

“Even if you somehow want ten dogs. Although, for the sake of those dogs, a lesser amount would be preferable. We do not have the luxury of time to be caring for that many dogs.”

Keqing smiled. “That’s true. That’s all extremely precious time that I’d rather be spending with you.”

“Agreed.” Ganyu made a noise of surprise as a small finch flew over to sit on the edge of their blanket. “I think even this bird has to agree with what you’re saying.”

As happy as these memories were, they also filled Keqing with a great sense of nostalgia. Even though she had no actual recollection of these events, they made her feel a deep sense of longing. For Luhua Pool, one of her favorite places in Teyvat, but also for Ganyu.

These memories made her wish she actually did remember them—and she also wished to see Ganyu once more in the flesh. To feel the warmth of her gaze, to hear the sweetness of her laughter, to be surrounded in her gentle presence. Of course, she was seeing the version of the Ganyu of the past, but she also just missed her Ganyu. The one she’d grown to care for.

Keqing froze at that. She couldn’t even focus on the memory that was playing out, her sharing a cute moment cooking in the kitchen together with Ganyu. In these memories, she could clearly sense the love she felt for Ganyu. But what of her in the present?

The way she looked at Ganyu in the past, was that how she looked at her now?

“This is the longest we’ll be apart from each other,” said Ganyu, in a new memory of the two of them hugging each other under a tree. “But I’ll try to come by when I can.”

“Don’t worry about me. You’re busy with far more important matters.”

“My duty is important. But you are the most important to me.”

“As much as I am flattered, I’d say you should definitely prioritize the safety of everyone in Liyue,” Keqing said, but she stopped talking as Ganyu cupped her cheeks. “Don’t risk anything by going out of your way to come see me. I don’t want to get on Rex Lapis’ bad side.”

“You could never.” Ganyu kissed her briefly. “Promise me you won’t cause trouble while I’m away.”

“I never cause trouble.”

“That’s quite debatable.”

“How about you promise me to be safe? I know you’re so brave and strong, but don’t throw yourself in harm’s way.”

Ganyu smiled as she squeezed her cheeks. “I’ll return to you safe and sound.”

More farewell kisses followed, and Keqing inwardly sighed at the sight of this memory. There was a feeling of dread in her chest, one that signaled to her that whatever happened next wouldn’t be the prettiest.

Whatever was happening at this point in the war seemed serious, based on the subtle expressions on both of their faces. The creases to their brows, the glint of worry in their eyes, the lingering hands over each other. It was as if they were just wishing for each other’s safety, to be sure that they would come back to each other’s arms.

Her suspicions turned out to be correct. The next memory wasn’t of her surrounded by the familiar scenery in Liyue. It was of her in Celestia, surrounded by pillars of white as she knelt on a glossy floor, surrounded by the edges of her long robes.

Morax was sitting on a throne above in front of a golden statue of his dragon form. It was him in his ancient form, with his hair long and loose, the soft dark strands coming down to his waist. He was frowning as he said, “A contract between two gods is forbidden.”

“I am aware.”

“Then you must also be aware that I will not accept your request.”

Keqing walked forward until she was standing in the great distance between her younger self and Morax. From here, she could see the grim expression on her own face, one that she herself was even surprised to see. If this was already about the contract, it had to be after her death. It seemed that even her stored memories had skipped over her demise, which she supposed made sense.

That would still have to remain a mystery.

“Have you seen how she’s been lately?” Her voice cracked, and it was unmissable in the complete silence in the large room. “You’ve known her for centuries. Do you not care for what’s happening to her?”

Morax’s gaze softened. “Of course I care for her. But it is not my place to interfere, Ferthur. As much as I would like, I cannot.”

“Please,” Keqing’s past self whispered, lowering her head. “Please. You are the only one I can think of who could help her. Can you not help her be relieved of her pain? Her grief? She believes that I am truly gone from the world.”

“Although she is in such pain right now, Ganyu is resilient.”

“But it has been four years. Four years since my ascension, during which I was forced to spend learning the ways of a god in Celestia, all without a sense of what was going on in the mortal realm.” She let out a shaky breath. “She has lost so much weight from barely eating, and she gets little to no sleep every day. Her hands constantly shake when she uses her bow. You and I both know we’re fortunate she’s still alive. If not for her Qilin blood, it is unlikely that she would even still be here.”

Morax pursed his lips. “You would like her memories of you to be taken away. But who is to say that she would like that for herself?”

“This has been nothing but detrimental to her health. Perhaps one day, if she ever found out, she would resent me forever. That is okay with me. As long as she can forget, so that she is able to eat, to sleep, to function, to live.” She glanced up at him with glossy eyes. “She can barely even use the bow she so loved, and that was her biggest pride and joy. I cannot take that away from her. She is no longer who she once was.”

Morax was quiet for a moment before he said, “First of all, if you would want her memories to be erased, it would not be hers alone. A contract with me would require an equivalent exchange, one that is made from complete fairness.”

“You are saying I would also lose my memories of her.”

“Correct.”

Keqing saw the clear hesitation within herself. The silence said enough. Her lips wobbled as she asked, “It would be a complete erasure?”

“That is the condition that would have to be fulfilled.” He then added, “This is the one and only time I will engage in a contract with you, Ferthur.”

She was obviously nervous. Her fingers were repeatedly rubbing over each other in an act of comfort as she responded, “Then I accept, but with another request. Is it possible to save those memories in some form?”

His brows furrowed. “That may complicate matters even more. The only way for you to ever see those memories again would be if the contract were to be broken. There is a very good chance you may go the rest of eternity without ever doing so.”

“I understand.”

“You will bring me two objects, then, for these memories to be contained within.”

“Thank you,” she said, her head lowering in immense gratitude. “I cannot thank you enough, Morax.”

He gave a curt nod. “Ganyu holds a special place in my heart, as I have known her since she was young. I must also thank you for the happiness you provided her with your companionship, though it was for a shorter time than we all expected.”

There was a slight huff in response, like a suppressed laugh. “You have a true way with your words.”

“If that is all, I will see you next time. Do be careful, Ferthur.”

➵ ✩

When Keqing woke up in her room, surrounded by Ai and Morax, she felt a heaviness in her chest. There was a dampness to her cheeks as well. It took a quick brush of her fingers to realize that these were her own tears.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d ever cried.

But now that the memories had come to an end, she knew what would have to follow. The questions that were unanswered that she’d have to ask Morax. As unpleasant as the truth would be, there was no choice but to have it uncovered.

Chapter Text

“Thank goodness, you’re back.” Ai chirped, flying to the window and perching herself on its ledge. “You have quite the persistent visitor.”

Morax handed her a handkerchief. “Do you feel alright?”

“I’m okay.” Keqing sat up on her bed, swinging her legs over the edge. She wiped at her face with the handkerchief, murmuring a quiet word of gratitude to him. “Who’s the visitor? Is it—”

The words died in her mouth when she saw a green beret that was bouncing around. Morax also muttered something under his breath, and she could’ve sworn she saw his eyes slightly twitch in annoyance.

“Why does he always try to come through the window?” Keqing asked, standing up and walking over. Sure enough, there was Barbatos, grinning widely as if he had no care in the world. She pushed the window open. “You know, there’s a door you can come in through.”

Barbatos looked at her like she’d just asked the silliest question. “Oh, but doors are quite boring.”

Keqing wasn’t fazed by that response. But she also wasn’t going to waste her breath trying to argue with him. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to help.” Barbatos slipped through the open window and perched himself on the windowsill. “How about we protest against the Elders? Overthrow them in a classy revolution? This could be one for the books, for all the mortals to freak out over in the years to come.”

Keqing stared at him incredulously. “No. That’s not going to happen, in fact. Celestia would literally fall apart.”

Barbatos waved his hand in dismissal. “Sure, some of our divine power stems from them, but we don’t need those old farts anymore.”

Morax cleared his throat. “Are you here to be useful or to spread your pointless fantasies?”

“Ouch.” Barbatos clutched his chest. “You’re as brutally honest as always, old man.”

“It’s time we talked about the Elders’ punishments,” said Ai, flying over to sit on Keqing’s shoulder. “If you’re prepared to hear about them.”

Keqing let go of the breath she’d been holding. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. But sure.”

“Are you okay with him listening?” Morax asked, slightly tilting his head towards Barbatos.

Keqing suppressed a laugh when she saw Barbatos looking around the room cluelessly, clearly not taking notice of what Morax had said. “That’s fine with me. It makes no difference.”

“In terms of my punishment, the Elders made me terminate my contract with you, which you are aware of. They have also forbidden me from making any further contracts with anyone at all.” Morax crossed his arms. “They even set a time limit, too, for the next 751 years. I’m also barred from entry to the mortal realm for a year.”

Keqing’s eyes widened. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Ipos will be monitoring me closely until then to make sure nothing slips by the Higher Rulers,” Morax said. “It is not too severe of a punishment, not at all. I have no use for contracts in this day and age. Nor are my visits to the mortal realm necessary.”

“You lucked out.” Barbatos shook his head. “The one time I got in trouble with them for sneaking wine into their temple, they actually forbade me from drinking for nearly 200 years. Ipos kept a close watch on me then. It was the worst period of my life.”

Ai asked, “Why were you sneaking wine into the Elders’ temple? What was the purpose?”

Barbatos let out a laugh and winked. “Some things are better off unsaid. Let’s just say it was a dare from, well, you guessed it—the God of Trickery.”

“Why you would accept any kind of dare from that man is beyond me,” Morax said, frowning deeply. “You never learn, do you?”

“What’s life without some of its thrill?” Barbatos grinned as he dangled his legs. He then turned his attention to Keqing, his bright green eyes focusing on her. “What punishments did the Elders decide for you?”

“You won’t be too happy to hear this,” Ai said, her talons taking a few steps away. “They want you to reflect on this mistake. So, they decided for you to continue your matchmaking services to the mortals, but without the help from Infinity System.”

Keqing blinked in surprise. “What? Without Infinity System?”

“What’s Infinity System?” Barbatos asked, and Morax lowered his voice as he responded.

“They want you to observe the mortals directly in person, but without interacting with them directly. You’d have to play matchmaker from afar.” Ai paused. “It’s going to be a pain.”

“I’m sure.” Keqing was already starting to feel a headache coming on. “For how long?”

“Initially, they suggested three-hundred years,” Morax piped in. “It took some convincing for them to realize that would be excessive, especially considering your arranged matches for Ganyu were never successful. To be precise, it took forty-seven minutes of convincing. But Ipos even agreed that she had been the one to intercept your final match for Ganyu before the arrow ever landed. If your matches never succeeded, there is little reason to penalize you for that long.”

“Only you would be able to convince them,” Barbatos said, shaking his head. “The one time I tried taking reason into them, they had Ipos escort me out right away.”

“That doesn’t shock me much,” Morax said, though he didn’t even spare Barbatos another glance. “They agreed to eleven months instead.”

“Why specifically eleven?” Keqing asked, then realized immediately. “It must be one for every match I attempted to make for Ganyu. How kind of them to take that into consideration.”

“That’s pretty on brand for them.” Barbatos sat back and rested his weight on his hands, his posture seeming more relaxed as the minutes passed by. “Their punishments aren’t ever too cruel, but it’s obvious that they’re trying to make your life hard.”

“But this is a big deal,” Ai said. “Without Infinity System, it’ll take up so much time to set up a match for just one person alone. I’m afraid we’ll start losing some of the support and faith of the mortals.”

Keqing rubbed her temples. “That’s okay. It might be a momentary lack of faith, but after the eleven months are over, we’ll be back to business as normal.”

“That’s correct. To them, eleven months may seem like a great amount of time, but compared to our lifespan, it is barely anything,” Morax said. “You’ll handle it quite alright.”

“This punishment, though, does it not consider the violation I made for taking part in a service with you?” Keqing asked.

“For that aspect of your violation, they are asking that you also show Ganyu the memories that were locked away in the rings.” Morax pursed his lips. “That would be done to reverse the effects of our contract. You will also be monitored afar by Ipos during your returned stay in the mortal realm.”

Keqing’s mouth felt a little dry at the thought of doing so. Having to even imagine the conversation that would lead up to Ganyu seeing the memories was a little too terrifying.

“Keqing, you’ll be going back to the mortal realm, but in what form? Don’t they already recognize you after you made all those headlines?” Barbatos asked, his eyebrows raised in interest. “It’d be hard to sneak around.”

“The Higher Rulers have ordered for you to present yourself in a different form while you are there. Once you choose an appearance for yourself, you are not permitted to revert back to your original form, or the one that you previously used in the mortal realm, until your punishment period has ended,” Morax answered. “They also wanted me to remind you again that you are not permitted to provide your services for Ganyu. In terms of both matchmaking, but also…”

That she was not allowed to love Ganyu. Keqing gave him a look. “Do they think I’m that foolish to try and find her matches again?”

“Some gods do not take their orders too seriously,” Morax said, tilting his head towards the window. “Like the person in front of you. He is the prime example of this case.”

Barbatos pouted. “Okay, hold on a second. That’s a little harsh.”

“There was a time he was summoned by the Elders approximately ten times to discuss the same matter, over and over again,” Morax said, and Barbatos sat up straight. “But that is a story for another time.”

“That is a story that will never be told again,” Barbatos corrected him.

“I always heard the worst rumors about the Elders’ punishments,” Keqing said. “Who was even making those up?”

“There was a long period when the Elders would not permit the gods to spread information about any punishments that they’d been given. It was in order to prevent any discord in the community, especially after some gods would accuse them of favoritism,” Morax said. “But the rumors you may have heard were most likely started by the God of Trickery.”

“The favoritism part is true, though,” Barbatos said. “You’re one of their favorites. It’s obvious to everyone in Celestia.”

“I will not deny it.” Morax finally spared him a single glance. “But while they have favorites, they sure do have a list of gods they are irked by.”

“You don’t have to continue that train of thought,” Barbatos quickly said.

“If the two of you are going to argue, please do it elsewhere,” Ai said, shaking her small bird head. “Actually, if you’re done saying what you have to say, would you mind giving Keqing a little break? I think she needs one after everything that she just saw.”

Barbatos paused. “What did she just see?”

Morax flicked his wrist at him. “Enough. Let’s leave.” To Keqing, he said, “I will be here if you need me.”

“Wait.” Keqing stepped forward. “Is there anything I can do to lessen the punishments you will face? You have done so much to reduce mine.”

“That is not for you to worry about,” Morax said with a small smile. “You have enough on your mind already.”

“Don’t worry about him. As we’ve established, he’s one of their favorites. I’m sure they’ll ease their restrictions soon.” Barbatos laughed as he hopped back out the window. “I’ll see you around, Keqing. Let me know if you need me.”

Before Keqing could ask Morax more about his situation, he’d already left with Barbatos. He’d followed through the window, after bending his long legs in what looked to be uncomfortable angles as he slipped out.

“Are you okay?” Ai asked.

“I don’t even know,” Keqing admitted. “There’s too many matters to settle.” She looked behind her at the bed. “I kind of want to sleep.”

“That’s a good idea. You should get some rest.”

She wasn’t even sleepy, but her head felt like it was spinning. “When are we expected to start working without Infinity System?”

Ai hesitated for a moment before answering, “Tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” Keqing nodded as she trudged back towards her bed.

Tomorrow morning was sooner than she expected, but it didn’t come as much of a surprise to her. The Elders’ punishments were the least of her worries at the moment. What was taking up most of the space in her mind was Ganyu.

Keqing even had the three rings on her fingers right this second. They were Ganyu’s rings. How was she going to ever face her again? Would she even bring up the truth? If she did, how would she? Saying, “Oh, by the way, we used to be lovers during the Archon War while I was a mortal, and then I traumatized you so greatly with my death, so I made a contract with your beloved god to take both our memories away,” didn’t seem like it would fare well with Ganyu.

And her death. She still wasn’t sure how it had occurred, and she didn’t want to find out. It was all in the past, so there wasn’t much use trying to even work to recall it now. If she herself hadn’t included the memory in the ring, then she wasn’t going to question her own decision to.

But if there was anything that these past couple days had taught her, it was that it was futile to run from the past. The truth would reveal itself in its own due time.

➵ ✩

Being back in Liyue for her eleven-month “banishment” from Celestia made one thing clear: it was loud. Louder than how it was usually back at home. It hadn’t bothered her the last time she was here, but perhaps it was because of the loudness of her own thoughts that made everything too overwhelming.

Another factor was that without the technology in Celestia, and without her clone to complete her duties, the prayers from mortals would play out directly within her mind. They were often like soft whispers, unless she chose to tune in to them and play them louder. So even a moment of peace inside her own mind would be rare.

Morax had been kind enough to let them stay at the same apartment as before. Ai had spent a complete hour choosing a new look for herself, while it had taken Keqing merely three minutes to decide. Keqing had randomized her facial features, altering her cheekbones to be sharper and her eye shape to be almond-like. She also added some height to her form, and chose long black hair. Her original purple eye color was a little too obvious, so she’d also selected a pair of dark brown eyes. The pitch of her voice had also been altered to be lower than her original.

She’d been tempted to add her two signature pointy hair buns, but Ai had given her a long talk about why that would be a terrible idea. Something about how the Elders would definitely have something to say about how her current form wasn’t too different from her previous mortal form. And so she’d reluctantly agreed.

While Ai was still focused on changing her reflection in the mirror, Keqing got to work. There was already a long list of prayers that required her attention, and they filled her with dread.

She sat in the living room, the first bubble materializing over her hands. It grew in size until it was around the size of her face, and inside it showed a young man in his twenties. He was currently at the beach, laughing and playing in the sea with his friends.

Keqing already missed having the assistance from Infinity System. The only time she’d been without its help was in the beginning of her godhood, and even that short span of time alone had been dreadful. It meant having to blend herself into the person’s surroundings, getting a glimpse of their inner circles and interactions before determining who their match would be.

Keqing stood up from the couch and stretched her arms. “Ai, do you know where my phone is? Is it still here?”

“It should be right where you left it last time,” Ai called back from another room. She came walking out, and even Keqing was momentarily startled by her height.

Ai was tall. Really tall, her head nearly hitting the doorway. She had short white hair, and bangs that framed her round face, along with dark green eyes.

“Did you finally decide on that look?” Keqing asked, walking into her room and identifying her phone on the bed. She picked it up and tapped on the screen, but there was no sign of life.

“I think so. I might adjust my height if this gets too much.”

Keqing grabbed the charger from the chair by her bed and plugged her phone into the outlet on the wall. She felt her heart starting to beat faster as the screen turned on. This nervous feeling stirring within her… It had to be from the possibility of seeing a text on her screen. Especially if it was from Ganyu.

And sure enough, as soon as her phone seemed to realize that it was on, she felt the buzzing that came from a text. It had been sent the day prior.

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
Keqing! I haven’t heard from you in a few days, I hope life is treating you well. Missing you on set! 🥰

Also, you won’t believe it. I don’t know if you know Zhongli, the director of Stone Productions. He just came by and he was able to take all my rings off? I’m so confused, but I figured I’d update you on the ring situation that had us both stumped.

Keqing stared at the text for a solid minute.

And then she felt her eyes slightly sting with tears. She took a deep breath as she placed the phone back down. She couldn’t talk to Ganyu like this, when even seeing her name spelled out in a silly text was enough to make her want to cry.

So what she did was fall onto her bed face-down and exhale loudly into her pillow.

There was the sound of footsteps quickly approaching, then a knock came at her door, and then the door made a soft noise as it swung open. “Keqing, are you okay?”

“I want to stop everything and just run into her nice warm arms, and have her hug me, and tell me that everything’s going to be okay,” Keqing said, although her words were muffled through the pillow.

“I don’t even know what you just said.”

“I miss her.”

“Is this about Ganyu?” Ai asked, and Keqing felt the end of the bed slightly sink as she took a seat. “Why don’t you call her if you miss her?”

“Call her?” Keqing repeated, turning over and sitting up. “That sounds like a terrible idea. I’d just end up bawling on the phone and scare her.”

“That does sound like a terrible idea,” Ai agreed, sighing.

“It’ll get better with time, I’m sure.” Keqing got off her bed and marched back to her phone. “I was thinking of using social media to get a general sense of who I could match people with.”

“We’ll have to hope they use it for that method to be useful to us.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check.”

Conducting a thorough search online with Ai was enough to distract her for a while. What she needed the most right now was a distraction. A distraction that would keep her from calling Ganyu right this second.

The boy who’d sent the prayer to her had even included the name of a girl from college that he liked, so it was easy enough to find both of their social media accounts. To be precise—it had been easy for Ai to find their accounts within seconds. Keqing had left that technological aspect to her.

Through the memories displayed in the bubble, Keqing could see previous moments of the interactions of this boy and girl, and from those, she was able to get a sense of their compatibility.

She wasn’t even sure why he was praying to her in the first place. The girl was clearly into him just the same, and he wasn’t exactly being subtle about his own feelings, either. The two spent an extensive amount of time together practically every day, and they could barely keep their eyes off of each other. Such was young love.

But she did a final check on their compatibility before getting ready to shoot her arrow into the bubble. This time, the memory that was displayed in the bubble was of the boy and girl singing together in a dimly lit room with colorful lights swaying over them.

It was karaoke. Keqing stared, dumbfounded, as she let out a loud sigh. Even using this bow and arrow was making her think back to the memory of her first learning how to use it. How Ganyu had guided her throughout her learning process.

“Why does everything remind me of her?”

Ai peeked over her shoulder and made a noise that sounded much like a snort. “I think you know the answer to that.”

The words made her slightly freeze. This was something that had crept up on her recently, a feeling that she knew she had to acknowledge. Something that she’d been holding back, out of fear of admitting it ever aloud.

Keqing looked at her. “I’m sure I do.”

Ai’s lips slightly parted. “Okay. I wasn’t expecting that answer.”

“I know that I’ve been in denial all this time, mostly because of this all violating the Heavenly Principles,” Keqing said as she watched an arrow appear in her hand. She felt for the bow on her back, drawing the arrow back as she pointed it at the bubble. “But… Yes, I know.”

“I honestly think this calls for a celebration.”

Keqing laughed as the arrow went flying into the bubble, popping it and disappearing altogether. “I think it calls for the opposite.”

“What would be the opposite?”

“That’s a good question. Maybe a funeral?” Keqing watched as a new bubble appeared with the next mortal who’d sent in a prayer. “Realizing my feelings won’t help. Not when I can’t even do anything about it.”

“All because of the outdated Heavenly Principles,” Ai said, a flash of anger appearing on her face. “I should’ve been there each time you had to face those grumpy Elders. I would’ve knocked some sense into them!”

Keqing held back a laugh. “They’d silence you in a heartbeat.”

“Not before I said all that I had to say.” Ai huffed. “Can I be honest, though? Now that you’re aware of your feelings for Ganyu?”

“I’m a little afraid of what you have to say, but sure.”

“She likes you back. In case you haven’t noticed. Because I’m sure you haven’t.” Ai gave her a look. “Despite being the Goddess of Love and all. Which is quite concerning.”

Keqing fell into silence. She sighed, ignoring the slight dig. “Does it matter?”

“I know we can’t do anything about it. But… Do you think the past you share with her is why she hasn’t been able to get matched?”

Keqing glanced up from a new bubble that had appeared with the next mortal. “It very well could be. But the thought of that being the reason why is… even more upsetting.”

“It could be because you were trying to match someone who once loved you. Or maybe it was just her heart being stubborn and rejecting any other match. Either way, it would all stem from the love she felt for you long ago.”

There was an emotion that was looming over Keqing’s heart. One that was uncomfortable and dark, one that made her chest feel heavy. Something that she’d been feeling increasingly stronger the more she was faced with the reality of the decision she’d made all those years ago.

“I regret it,” Keqing said. “I regret ever forging that contract with Morax.”

Ai looked at her in surprise. “You do?”

“It just feels so wrong. It was foolish and selfish of me to ever try and manipulate her memories like that.” Keqing lowered her gaze to her clasped hands. “It was a decision I made out of my own immaturity at the time.”

“I really doubt that you would’ve made such a big choice on a whim. The decision you made to make a contract with Morax would’ve taken you days of contemplation. Maybe months.”

“Maybe it should’ve taken me decades to contemplate it. Maybe Ganyu would’ve moved on by then and been happy. I’ve seen countless people move on from the deaths of their loved ones and find new people. Life goes on.”

“But there’s a chance that Ganyu wouldn’t have been like that.” Ai’s brows furrowed. “You can’t make a generalization like that. Every person handles matters differently.”

She had a point. Keqing exhaled. “Okay. That’s true. But I really do think that I messed up. And now I don’t know how I’ll ever tell her about it.”

“You don’t have to rush it.” Ai reached over to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I know you want to fix every problem as soon as you get it because you think it’s a challenge. But you can take your time with this.”

Keqing smiled slightly. “You’ve changed a bit, you know? In a good way.”

“What can I say? I adapt to my surroundings.” Ai smiled back. “What you need right now is support.”

“I do need support, and also someone to fix everything for me.”

“I unfortunately do not have that capability.”

“That’s perfectly okay. Having you by my side is enough right now.”

➵ ✩

Using social media to ease her job without Infinity System wasn’t exactly a foolproof method. Keqing had made the assumption that all mortals had their own social media accounts, but it turned out that this was not the case.

It was why, on her fifth day back in the mortal realm, she was sitting in the corner of a coffee shop, observing one of the barista’s interactions with each of his customers. Through her work after all these centuries, what she’d learned was that most of these mortals had their fated lovers right in their vicinity. All it took was a simple push towards the right person and the rest was usually history.

Ai was using her advanced hearing to pick out all the conversations and the subtle details of each interaction. It was what Ai was good at picking up on—the lingering glances, even analyzing how many seconds eye contact was maintained and, especially the changes in the tone and pitch of their voice. After knowing the patterns and outcomes for so long, Ai was able to make her own predictions about whether it would be a successful match.

Ai had been the one to insist that it was necessary to wear shades, so that it wouldn’t look too alarming being stared down by strangers. She’d been the one to initially say, “Why should it matter? I’m the goddess they prayed to,” before she reluctantly agreed.

“This might be the one,” Ai said. “The one he’s talking to right now.”

Keqing leaned forward, observing the barista talking to a tall young man. He’d been talking to this customer for a good three minutes now, the two not even missing a beat.

“What are they talking about?”

“Their shared love for a musician whose concert is tomorrow night.” Ai pointed to a speaker. “The song that’s playing right now was made by them.”

“That has potential. Perhaps they could even go together.”

“That’s what they’re planning right now.” Ai tilted her head. “This barista has touched his hair twelve times during the entire conversation.”

“That’s another promising sign.” Keqing paused as she heard a faint prayer. It was from a voice that was all too familiar. As she switched her attention to it, she heard the words louder in her head.

“Ferthur.”

Keqing felt goosebumps rise over her arms at the voice. To hear Ganyu say her Celestia-given name, it felt surreal. And it sounded so graceful, how she said it so softly.

“My fellow friend prayed to you not too long ago,” Ganyu said. “It was on my behalf, in an attempt to help me find love. I appreciate the great efforts you must’ve taken to try and find me someone. It probably hasn’t been easy at all. But I met someone absolutely wonderful lately. I don’t know if it was your doing. Maybe it was. Perhaps you have sent her to me.”

Pure warmth and bliss spread throughout every corner of her heart. Ganyu’s voice was so comforting, to hear it again after the last time in the memories from the ring.

“I don’t know what will become of us, if you have meant for her to enter my life as someone more than a friend or not. But regardless, I am so grateful to have met her. I wanted to offer you all my gratitude. I apologize for not coming sooner to offer my prayers, life has gotten in the way.”

Ai waved a hand in front of her face. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Keqing inhaled sharply and gripped the edges of her seat. “I’m tempted to run to a shrine in Qingce. Ganyu’s there right now.”

Ai lowered her shades, and her eyes were wide. “What? She’s praying at your shrine? About what?”

“She’s thanking me for, well, basically sending me into her life.” Keqing let out a slight laugh, one that was mostly in half-shock. “Especially after I haven’t even responded to that text she sent earlier in the week. She has too much of a kind soul.”

“As much as I would love for you to go and talk to her,” Ai said, “you’re not exactly looking like yourself. There’s no way that she’d believe that you’re really Keqing without you giving away your true identity.”

Keqing nodded slowly. “You’re right. This situation is just absolutely terrible.” She shook her head, clearing her thoughts as she focused again on the barista. “Okay. My bad. I need to focus.”

“Maybe talking to her wouldn’t be a good idea. But you could go see her if you want.” Ai’s voice turned softer. “If seeing her face would help at all. It’s okay to miss her. The Elders never imposed any punishments that prevented you from being able to go see her. Ipos is watching, but as long as you don’t go and kiss her, it should be okay.”

Keqing pursed her lips. It would be wonderful if she could kiss her again. “I know. But…”

“It’s up to you. But I don’t want you to suffer for no reason, either. You’re allowed to miss her.” Her voice lowered. “Especially given the past you share together.”

Keqing tilted her head. “You’re going to regret this when I go see her, only because I’ll end up being way more dramatic about it.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can deal with it. But I’d rather you go deal with it than punish yourself like this.” Ai sighed, standing up from her seat. “Let’s get going. You can set those two up later. They’re guaranteed to be a good match.”

“Indeed, they are.” Keqing spared one last glance at the barista before getting up from her seat. He was sneaking glances at the young man he was soon-to-be matched with.

For the first time in forever, she felt some sort of envy towards these mortals. And all of the mortals, actually, for having the privilege of loving. Ever since her ascension, she’d never had to bat an eye over all of the matches she made on a daily basis. But things had changed dramatically for her, all in a matter of no time.

➵ ✩

If there was anything Keqing was good at, it was going along with the bad ideas that came into her mind. The ideas that she knew she shouldn’t listen to, because they would only cause her more troubles in the end. Troubles for her heart, to be specific.

And yet, here she was, standing outside one of her small shrines in Qingce. It was a small building, clearly renovated over the years, with a golden exterior and a clean white interior with banners hanging from the ceiling. And, as always, there was the inaccurate statue of her in the center, this time colorful—though it had her with white hair and blue eyes. The inconsistencies in the depictions of her never ceased to amuse her.

There was a mortal in front of her, who was currently on his knees praying silently. Luckily (or quite the opposite) for her, she could hear his wishes clearly in her mind.

“Goddess, I come to you today with one request only. It is all I ask of you. I have recently fallen for a wonderful woman, who’s all I could ever want. She’s beautiful, kind, and sweet. The only problem is that I have never met her, and nor will I ever in the near future, because of her fame and status. As such a popular rising singer—”

That was where Keqing stopped listening. There were too many prayers she always received about people mindlessly hoping to be paired with their celebrity crushes, they didn’t faze her anymore.

She instead made a beeline to the corner of the shrine, where the offerings were neatly placed on ledges of the wall. There were incense sticks burning, but also plenty of small dishes of fruits left as offerings. There were several bottles of wine as well, which only had Keqing thinking back to when Barbatos had admitted to sneaking wine into the Elders’ temple.

Each offering she looked at, she was able to instantly know who had placed it there. That was how she knew the wine in the right corner was an offering placed there by Ganyu.

And so she did what any sane person would’ve done: she stole the bottle of wine, tucking it under her shirt and shuffling back out of the shrine. The mortal man in the shrine was still kneeling, his eyes closed as his prayer continuously rang out quietly in Keqing’s mind. Which was good, as it meant that she hadn’t been caught.

“When I said I wanted you to deal with this situation, I didn’t mean for you to take the wine offering that Ganyu made for you,” Ai said, her brows rising as she looked at the obvious wine-shaped outline that was poking out from her shirt. “I thought you would go see her.”

“And just watch miserably from afar?” Keqing sighed, clutching the wine bottle closer to her body. “I’d rather not.”

So Keqing did what was better in her mind: miserably taking sips from the wine in her apartment later that night as she watched a playlist full of videos all related to the one particular person who was taking up the most space in her head these days. It was an unhealthy way of coping, for sure, watching these videos with Ganyu’s sweet voice and laughter, to make up for the fact that Keqing was too cowardly to actually face her.

But facing her would take time. At least, that was what she was hoping for, until she woke up later that night with her phone clutched tightly in her hands. Turning it on made the grogginess completely disappear from her body, when she saw that the first thing that popped up on her screen was her message history with Ganyu.

Three hours prior, Keqing had sent a text that read: I miss you.

➵ ✩

TRENDING: GANYU SHARES THOUGHTS ON RECENT CO-STAR KEQING

After the lack of recent appearances from Ganyu and her co-star Keqing, talks of the two of them died down. But worry not about a lack of content! In a recent interview, it revealed what Ganyu’s had on her mind about the purple-haired lady she’s made hundreds of headlines with in the past month alone.

In the interview found here, Ganyu says, “Keqing has such a kind, brilliant soul—which is a true rarity these days. There’s something about her that just makes you feel like you’re at home when you’re with her. She’s someone you can talk to for hours and still not run out of things to say. Someone you can truly feel like yourself with, like you can tell the silliest jokes and laugh about them even weeks later. She has a very comforting presence.”

When asked about what role Keqing’s character, Ruijin, plays in this upcoming movie, Ganyu said, “Ruijin is one of Jingli’s best friends. Much like Keqing, Ruijin is a wonderful person. She’s completely nonjudgmental and supportive. It’s a movie about friendship, which she helps to capture perfectly, but also about a long journey of self-discovery.”

And last but not least, in a response to a question asked about whether she would ever work on a movie with Keqing again, Ganyu responded, “It would truly be my honor to have another chance to work with her again. Keqing’s energy on set is one that you can’t miss. Filming the rest of this movie really hasn’t felt the same without her.”

As much as they claim they’re just friends, we can’t help but dreamily sigh over how highly Ganyu speaks of Keqing. No matter what the confirmed status of their relationship is, these two have a precious bond that we can only hope continues to last. It’s the first time in history that our beloved immortal actress has been this involved with her co-star, and we have to say—we’re loving every second of it!

And of course, people had plenty to say, as well. Check out their comments below.

I’ll Do Anything For Ganyu (@happyhappyganyu):
i have truly never seen ganyu talk about someone like this before, especially for a public interview. and ESPECIALLY about any of her co-stars. i’m very excited to see where this goes!

Just a humble egg (@eggyolkishealthy):
I was a little surprised to see that Ganyu made headlines today for briefly talking about Keqing in an interview. But then I was like, who am I kidding, it’s Ganyu. Of course she’s going to make headlines. I am still very much invested in these two, but no matter what happens, I’m just happy to see that Ganyu’s so happy. She deserves someone like Keqing by her side.

Ganyu’s girlfriend (@ganyusmiles_ismile):
In all the history of the Ganyu content I’ve seen, which is CENTURIES’ worth of content that took me years to watch, I’ve never seen her like this before? I don’t care what you all think, and maybe I’m delusional, but I think there’s something going on here. There just has to be. If I end up being right, you all owe me 100,000 Mora.

Notice me, Keqing ! (@keqingsbestfan):
Just woke up to a video of Ganyu praising Keqing for two minutes, and my life is now complete. Keqing deserves all of the attention she’s getting, I can’t wait to see her in the new movie! She better win all the awards for her debut performance.

helpless ganqing enjoyer (@ganqingplease):
Am I the only one stuck here replaying the part where Ganyu said Keqing’s someone you can talk to for hours? So they’re basically going on dates for hours. Yes I’m going to think about this for the rest of my life.

Keqing’s Debut Countdown (@KeqingDebut):
And when Keqing debuts and wins all the awards to ever exist? What then? I can’t wait for her movie! With the way Ganyu’s been describing all her hard work, I just know she’s going to hit stardom when Live for Me is released.

The fans, of course, had nothing but nice things to say. But some contrary opinions exist, as well. Take a look here:

M. (@dontbescammed):
The internet has been flooded with talk of Ganyu and Keqing. But honestly - am I the only one tired of hearing about it? Ganyu’s really milking this whole rumored relationship with Keqing. It’s also honestly about time she took a step away from the acting scene. She’s been taking so many role opportunities away from others…

Tired and sleepy (@whatishappiness):
I’ve heard the Immortal Hunters have been talking a lot of crap about Ganyu lately and I kinda get it honestly, all these headlines are annoying to read. It’s all everyone talks about. Why do we care?

Fear not, those last two commenters had their fair share of judgment from fans… Hundreds of replies, in fact. Let this be a lesson to you all, don’t speak ill against Ganyu!

Alright, folks. Until next time—since we can confidently say that this won’t be the last time we hear about those two!

Chapter Text

Sleep was never a problem for Keqing. She always had the blessing of falling asleep quickly as soon as she rested her head on a pillow. But today was different. She stared at her phone screen, so much that she could even see the text bubble she’d sent with her eyes closed. Those three words that she’d sent to Ganyu haunted her. I miss you.

She tossed and turned for hours, hyper-aware of the phone next to her pillow. She carefully listened for the buzz of her phone, but she had to remind herself that it was the middle of the night. Ganyu was probably sleeping peacefully, while she was here, slowly suffering as a result of her own actions.

The bottle of wine had truly been a mistake to drink from. It had been dandelion wine, specifically made in Mondstadt. A wine she’d previously never tried because of how many times she’d seen Barbatos drink it. But she hadn’t hesitated when she knew it had been from Ganyu. It had a noticeable sweetness to it, and she had wished that Ganyu was here to taste it with her. Drinking it with Ganyu would’ve made it sweeter.

But the text she’d been waiting for arrived in the morning, when she was brewing tea in the kitchen and trying to act calm in front of Ai. Acting like nothing had happened overnight, like she hadn’t completely made a fool of herself. Her silly little act consisted of her humming happily to try and seem as if her mind wasn’t a complete mess right now. And of course, nothing could slip past Ai.

When Keqing heard the chime of her phone, she bolted for it. She set down her mug loudly, grabbed her phone, and brought it closer to her face.

To her disappointment, it was not a text from who she wished for it to be. It was from Morax himself, asking her if she was managing just fine in the mortal realm.

And she felt both gratitude and guilt. She was thankful that he was looking out for her—he had been all along. Defying the Elders to agree to a contract that went against the Heavenly Principles was no light decision. The list went on. He’d provided a last-minute role in Live for Me and offered her a place to stay while she remained in the mortal realm. For the longest time, she’d held onto a preconceived notion that he had been against her. But he had been on her side all along. And for that, she felt guilty. Because she wanted him to know that she appreciated all of his efforts, she just struggled to ever get it across.

She clutched onto her pride far too much. It was time to loosen her grasp on it. But when eternity was all she knew of, there was a tendency of thinking that she fell into quickly: if not now, then later.

“You’re way too excited to get that text,” Ai commented. “Are you already texting Ganyu? You held out longer than I expected.”

“It’s not Ganyu,” Keqing said, setting her phone down on the counter after she sent out a simple response explaining that she was doing just fine. “Morax was just checking in.”

“Morax is too kind for his own good.”

“He is. I wish I could thank him in some way.” Keqing looked at Ai. “It’s a foreign concept to me. Thinking about thanking Morax, especially after all these years of me thinking he was a pretentious, know-it-all god.”

“It’s not an uncommon feeling you’re experiencing,” Ai said, taking a seat across from her. “Thanking someone can be difficult. Especially after knowing the extent of everything that he risked to help you.”

Keqing nodded as she poured herself a mug of warm tea. “I wonder if he tried to fight against the Elders’ punishment for him. He said he talked a great deal to reduce my sentence. But what of him?”

“Knowing him, I highly doubt that he tried to protest against what they decided for him. He probably accepted it without hesitating.”

Keqing could imagine that perfectly, Morax not even blinking an eye as the Elders solemnly gave their final say. “There’s a small part of me that wishes to resent him again. Only because I envy how much of a patient person he can be. How much of a good person he is.”

“What else would you expect from the God of Contracts himself?” Ai sighed, then gave her a look. “But be honest with me. Are you expecting a text from Ganyu? You haven’t been this antsy before.”

“I may be.” Keqing sipped from her tea, avoiding Ai’s prying gaze. She picked up her phone again, taking a glance at the bubble to her right. “I was thinking of pairing this lady here with her longtime best friend. All signs are pointing in the right direction.”

“I agree with you. Those two are bound to be a good pair.” Ai hummed and didn’t say much else. Her eyes were still curious, but she must’ve known not to push it.

“It’s an easy match.” Keqing held out her hand in front of her, summoning an arrow that was light to the touch, with its heart-shaped tip already in place. “I’d say we’re doing a great job without the assistance of Infinity System.”

“That’s no surprise to me. You’re a goddess, Keqing. Your judgment holds the most power.” Ai paused before adding, “But I did question your godhood quite a few times in the past month.”

Keqing pursed her lips. She already had a feeling she knew where this conversation was going, and yet, she was going to ask anyway. “Care to explain why?”

As she slipped off the bow that she felt materialize over her back, Keqing drew her arrow back, aiming it at the bubble. It flew quickly in the air, hitting the bubble and making a soft pop before disappearing altogether.

Ai had a shameless glint in her eyes. “I never knew the Goddess of Love could be so omniscient about all matters related to love except her own.”

“It’s just… different when it’s happening to me. I can objectively see it when it’s happening to others. But when it’s myself? I can only see one side of it.”

Ai frowned. “To be fair, you were in denial about your feelings for a good amount of time. Even though the whole world could clearly tell what was going on.”

Keqing sighed as she watched a new bubble appear in the air between them. “I have a feeling you’re going to tease me about this for the rest of eternity. Perhaps a memory reset would benefit you.”

“You say that as if you haven’t been regretting the whole memory situation with Ganyu for the past week.”

With a slight wince, Keqing averted her gaze from Ai to focus on the bubble. There was a young individual floating inside, resting on a hammock at the beach, seemingly living their life to the fullest. The tranquility of the scene made her wish she was there with them, instead of currently having her love life analyzed by the ever-so-caring Ai.

Her phone buzzed.

Keqing eyed it immediately, and then she saw that Ai was looking at her with her brows raised. Clearly asking her: Well? Are you going to look at it and see who it’s from?

But just as her godhood had not taken away her impatience, it had not helped her be any less competitive. So Keqing looked away from her phone, although her fingers slightly twitched towards it. She leaned closer to the bubble, which seemed like the most interesting thing in the room right now.

“Barbatos reached out to me earlier today,” Ai said, and Keqing looked at her with a baffled expression. “He said he’d been trying to get into contact with you, but he couldn’t.”

“That’s because I blocked off any virtual communication with him,” Keqing answered, waving her hand in dismissal. “He always sends such nonsensical jokes to get a laugh out of me instead of saying anything serious. Or useful.”

“He might have something useful to say this time. He seems pretty invested in what’s been happening lately. And he has a lot of connections.”

“That’s true. I’ll consider it.”

Keqing then focused with all her might on the person in the bubble, listening to their prayer in her head. It was a long, detailed explanation of their circumstances with their difficult search for a polyamorous relationship. They were listing off the qualities of a lover that they would like, the specific names of people they had recently developed feelings for, along with their relevant astrological signs. It just went on and on.

Keqing listened to this ten-minute prayer, all while she was trying her hardest to ignore the presence of her phone at an arm’s length away. Ai was in the living room now, sitting on a stool that overlooked the city view from the window, as she was preoccupied with her own phone. Whatever it was that was holding her attention, Keqing wasn’t going to question. But Ai was slightly laughing at her phone, which raised several alarms in Keqing’s mind.

She took Ai’s distraction as a chance to quickly grab her phone. There was no need to be secretive, at all. She knew that. But getting endlessly teased by Ai was also not on her to-do list for the day.

Blinking back at her on the screen was a text from Ganyu.

Ganyu (from “Live for Me”):
Keqing, I miss you too! It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.
Things have been quite hectic since we’re busy filming the final part of the movie. But I’d absolutely love to see you if you have time - if you’re still in this area? I remember you said you were going somewhere far.

Keqing’s fingers hovered over the keyboard on the screen. She didn’t even know where to start. Asking, “Hi, how are you?” wouldn’t suffice at all for what she wanted to say. She just wanted to say, “I miss you,” again. As if that was all she knew how to say. Looking at Ganyu’s response just made all the thoughts in her mind dissipate.

But she needed to get her thoughts organized and her emotions under control, before just running back to Ganyu.

The last text that Ganyu had sent her about the rings being taken off by Morax, Keqing had never responded to. Her text now would have to somehow encompass all of the questions unanswered, without giving it all away.

She spent the next five minutes typing out a response, deleting half of it, and changing the placement of her words, before finally settling on an answer. Having all the time in the world to respond to a message was somewhat of a blessing, but also a curse. All this time meant she could overthink every single letter she’d typed out.

If she were to sit here and wait to send a message until she came up with the perfect response, she would be here for days. So Keqing closed her eyes as she sent the send button.

Keqing’s response read: Ganyu, I apologize for not getting back to you about your update about your rings. That is both wonderful and puzzling. Has Zhongli gotten back to you about it? As for meeting - I am currently somewhere far away dealing with some business. I would love to see you when I am back in town. I also apologize for not giving you a proper farewell.

She sighed and set down her phone, her gaze trailing back to Ai, who had a smile on her face.

“Ai.”

Ai looked up. “Hi. Sorry. I was messaging someone.”

Keqing arched her brow. “May I ask who?”

“Chuyu. She’s one of Morax’s newly hired assistants.” Ai’s green eyes were bright. “I don’t think you’ve met her yet. She showed up in Celestia once after he gave you the rings. She’s actually always been here in the lobby apartment complex, too, just in case we needed any help.”

“Chuyu,” Keqing repeated. It was her first time seeing Ai so interested in someone like this, and she had a feeling she knew where this was headed. She pouted as she realized she’d been too sucked up in her own life drama to realize this new change. “My little assistant is growing up.”

“It’s not like that.” Ai averted her gaze and played with a few strands of her short white hair, which took Keqing by surprise.

Ai was actually shy.

“We’ve been getting along well. Because she’s just like me.” Ai tugged at the skin on her arm, which stretched a bit. “A robotic assistant. But she’s very nice. She even has a bird form that she showed me once. It was beautiful.”

Keqing smiled. “I’m glad you’ve met someone like her, then. But, Ai.”

Ai looked back at her, a hint of wariness on her face. “Yes? I don’t like the scary way you said my name just now.”

Keqing pursed her lips for a second before saying, “Well, I can’t say I liked the way you said ‘robotic assistant.’ You said it as if it was something shameful.”

Ai’s gaze lowered once more, and the vibrance of her energy from just a few seconds ago was no longer to be seen anywhere. “But it’s true. As silly as it sounds, I’m not a human. I am a mere arrangement of a complex technological setup that allows me to present myself in the form of a living being.”

Keqing felt a twinge of sadness as she shook her head. “Ai, you’re so much more than that. And you know that.”

“It’s confusing.” Ai closed her fist and then opened it a few times. “I feel things. Physically and emotionally. Whether it’s just my system mimicking emotions, who knows? But I feel them, then I realize I’m just… a bunch of coding.”

“You’re real to me,” Keqing said softly. “I know I cannot ease your worries. I know I’m not in a place to truly understand where you’re coming from. But you don’t need to be a human to feel those emotions. I believe with all my heart that everything you feel is real. You are your own person.”

Ai’s face slightly scrunched up, as if she were going to cry, then she let out a choked laugh. “I cannot even form tears, Keqing. I cannot even eat or drink like people do.”

“Your body may limit you, but that’s not the only thing that makes someone alive. You experience emotions just as I would. As any other human would.” Keqing slipped off her chair, making her way towards where Ai was. She spread her arms out. “Can I get a hug?”

It was enough to make Ai give her a small smile. She nodded, standing up from her seat and engulfing her in a hug.

“See? You can hug me, just like how humans do it to express that they care for each other.” Keqing patted Ai’s back. “I’ve said this before, but I will say it again. I don’t see you as any less because of how you came to be. What matters is that you’re here now. And you’re a pretty cool person, Ai.”

Ai sighed as she hugged her back tighter. “Thank you, Keqing.”

“Always.” Keqing pulled back from the hug, tucking some of Ai’s hair behind her ear. “You’re always welcome to express your thoughts and feelings. You have that right.”

Ai’s lower lip slightly wobbled. “Thank you.”

“If you prefer your human form, you can stay in it. Even when we’re back in Celestia.” Keqing smiled. “Whatever you want, Ai. Your happiness is important to me.”

Ai bowed her head. “So is yours. As I always say, you are the goddess I serve. Your happiness is my priority.”

“That being said,” Keqing said, resting a hand on her shoulder, “keep me updated on you and Chuyu.”

“There is nothing to update you on,” Ai replied, seeming flustered.

Keqing smiled. “You and I both know, far too well.”

“I know.” Ai sighed in defeat. “You’ll be the first to know if anything happens.”

➵ ✩

Ganyu’s text came three hours later. Not that Keqing was counting. She may have been, but it was more so the fact that she’d been keeping track of the time that was passing while she was doing her work. It totally hadn’t consisted of her slightly jumping in her seat each time she felt the buzz of a phone to notify her of other pointless matters.

She wondered what Ipos was thinking as she monitored her every move from Celestia. If Ipos was even watching her that closely. She wasn’t even sure to what extent Ipos’ “monitoring” meant. Could Ipos see her smiling down at her phone as she read Ganyu’s text?

Ganyu (From “Live for Me”):
Don’t worry about not saying goodbye - I hope we will see each other soon enough! I would love to video call whenever you are available. Zhongli hasn’t given me any information yet on the rings, so I’m still waiting! It seems there are so many mysteries left to uncover.

Keqing felt her heart slightly sink at the mention of a video call. There was no way she could, not when she looked different. And she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to test the theory of whether or not Ipos was monitoring her too quickly. She hadn’t been banned from talking to Ganyu, but she also wasn’t sure if she wanted to cross the line. But perhaps it was her own fear, her cowardly self afraid to actually face Ganyu.

So all she did was put her phone down and stare blankly at the wall, wondering why in the world it had to be this way.

Before she could decide what to even say to Ganyu in response, she found her attention catching on to what the television was playing in the center of the living room. There was a headline that read, “New Recent Online Activity From the Immortal Hunters Causing Unease.”

Whatever that meant. The last time she checked, just a day ago, the Immortal Hunters had tried submitting a request to the various world leaders in Teyvat to be acknowledged as an international organization. Obviously, it had been rejected. It was silly of them to even try when the Archons based in each nation were immortal themselves.

“The Immortal Hunters have got to be the most ignorant, dim-witted people to ever exist,” Ai said from a distance. “I don’t know what they’re even trying to accomplish.”

“I don’t know, either.” Keqing walked right in front of the screen and leaned closer as she tried to read a few of the posts that were displayed. “It’s just a bunch of hate comments directed towards famous immortals.”

“Lanxi’s on there.” Ai raised a brow. “Even Ganyu. Which, I guess, makes sense since they’re both so famous.”

“Ganyu?” Keqing squinted, looking at every single post listed. There had to be about twenty of them. “Where?”

The posts then disappeared as the news anchor returned to speak about the next topic: a recent wave of some type of invasive plant species that was spreading like wildfire in Sumeru. Keqing sighed in defeat.

“They were complaining about Ganyu’s unfair wealth. How she was holding onto too much money when it could be distributed to other causes,” said Ai. “Which, honestly, according to my search, is an invalid argument. Ganyu’s rich, sure, but she’s also always donated an immeasurable sum of Mora to all sorts of humanitarian causes during her lifetime. A simple search would show them that.”

“They’re just choosing to believe whatever they want.”

“That’s what they’ve always done.”

Keqing turned around from the television, feeling a sense of apprehension in her chest. The Immortal Hunters were weak, just a bunch of people spouting out their hatred behind a screen. But she still wished she could do something about the disrespectful lies they were spreading about Ganyu.

Ganyu had always offered to get the headlines about them taken down. So Keqing wondered why this baseless, harmful talk about Ganyu was still existing out there. It was all that was on her mind when she typed out a response to Ganyu’s text. One that read: I’ll let you know when I’m available! I also heard the recent unpleasant things that people had to say about you - are you handling everything alright?

Keqing then got back to work with some new prayers, although she found it incredibly hard to focus. As she listened to a long prayer in her mind, she found herself thinking back to the Immortal Hunters. It even made her search their baseless claims about Ganyu on the internet, and she made it a point to report every single one of those posts. She hoped reporting them would help in some way, hopefully resulting in them being taken down immediately.

But there was one post she saw that made her feel restless.

It was someone calling themselves a member of the Immortal Hunters, who made a long-winded post about their generalized complaints about immortal actresses, although they were pretty specific since it was mostly centered around Ganyu. Her name was mentioned in nearly every sentence, which was quite a resentful sight. Such an ignorant person didn’t deserve to even know Ganyu’s name. Sure, everyone was entitled to their own opinions, but Keqing pitied their souls.

The long post was concluded with one ominous sentence. “That fool doesn’t know what’s coming for her.”

Keqing reported it immediately, even sending the link to Ai to report a hundred times (how she had that ability, Keqing had no idea, but she didn’t question it). She wasn’t sure what this threat even meant. What was coming for Ganyu? Perhaps she was overthinking it all. What could a random person do? Ganyu was safe, always with Xiao.

Xiao. The worries in the past she had over how he knew of her identity as a goddess all made a little more sense now. His close association with Morax seemed to be the likely cause. He’d probably even seen her when she was a mortal, although she had no recollection. There was a small fear that crossed her mind, one that wondered if Xiao would ever consider telling Ganyu. But Ganyu hadn’t seemed to catch on. Unless she was putting on an act.

She trusted Ganyu, though. Although she was such a skilled and renowned actress, Ganyu was genuine. Each interaction with her was pure, always shedding light on her good nature.

That was why Keqing couldn’t fathom why she was attracting judgment from the so-called Immortal Hunters. But jealousy was rampant among humankind. It only took a small seed of the unpleasant emotion to plant itself in one’s heart, before it quickly grew and spread its vines. Jealousy was a powerful, ugly force, which made Keqing even more uneasy.

When guided by jealousy, mortals made poor decisions. Decisions that she didn’t want Ganyu to have to face. So Keqing did what she did best, which was to worry about Ganyu’s safety. Even though Ganyu texted her back a while later to update her that she was doing okay, Keqing was still unsettled.

“What are you doing?” Ai asked.

Keqing glanced up from the new bubble that materialized before her. The bubble showed a hint of blue hair with black horns, and Ai was giving her a long look.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I won’t be using my matchmaking services,” Keqing said, swiping her hand in the air over the bubble. It slowly spun around, showing Ganyu standing outside a small food truck on the set. “I’m just trying to make sure nothing bad happens to her.”

“Although there is a possibility, based on my calculations, it is quite unlikely. We’re talking about a 15% chance.”

“That’s more than I’d like it to be.”

“What are you going to do, though? Show up in front of Ganyu and save her? How would you even explain that to her?”

Keqing sighed. “I don’t know. But knowing that she’s safe at least gives me some peace of mind.”

The bubble in the air let out a soft noise as it popped, dissolving into thin air. Keqing pursed her lips as she exchanged a look with Ai. She didn’t have to question the reasoning behind it.

It was Ipos. It had to be Ipos. The bubble had never popped like that without her intervening before. Keqing braced herself for the worst. Would Ipos appear before her and take her away to kneel before the Elders once more?

Keqing waited. Ai also looked wary. But nothing happened. The world still carried on like it did. The television still played its news just the same, and there was the faint hum of cars driving below their building.

“You never learn,” Ai said quietly as she let out a bewildered laugh. “You never fail to amaze me.”

“I had to.”

Keqing gave it five minutes before stretching out her hand in the air, watching as a bubble materialized above it. It seemed that Ganyu was getting her makeup ready before getting on the set. She looked as beautiful as she always did, today with glossy red lips and her hair up in a fluffy ponytail.

“Ipos, if you’re watching me, I’m not going to find her a match. I’m merely trying to watch over her safety,” Keqing said, just as the bubble popped and disappeared.

Ai opened her mouth, then closed it, and then said, “I think that says enough.”

Keqing summoned the bubble again. And it popped not even a second after. This went on back and forth about ten more times before the bubble remained untouched. She counted the seconds it stayed here. Ten seconds passed, then thirty, and then a full minute.

Keqing smiled proudly at Ai as she gestured toward the bubble. “Would you look at that?”

“I am looking.” Ai’s brows furrowed. “You worry me too much, Keqing. You’re lucky I’m not human. I’d have a myriad of health problems if I were, from all this stress.”

“Don’t worry about me. I know it won’t be too much fun if I get on Ipos’ bad side. But…” Keqing sighed. “I know what I may be risking. It won’t stop me, though. You can act like you don’t know anything.”

Ai only blinked, then she pulled out her phone and pointed at the balcony. “Suit yourself. I’m going to call Chuyu. She has some new drama related to some of the gods to update me on.”

“Enjoy.” Keqing waved her off, holding back a smile as she watched Ai quickly shut the balcony door behind her. It was nice seeing Ai have someone to talk to. Whether it be romantic or platonic, she was rooting for both of them.

Having Ai catch her up on the latest gossip in Celestia wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

And the bubble continued to remain just the same. The giddiness spread throughout every corner of her body as if she were a child waiting in anticipation for their birthday gift. She would have to thank Ipos.

➵ ✩

As she expected, Keqing became immensely grateful for her decision to keep an eye out for Ganyu. She hadn’t wished to go overboard, as it felt a little too much to be constantly monitoring her, so she’d checked on Ganyu for a few seconds at least once an hour to see if she was safe. After today, she wouldn’t do it again.

Ai looked like she was judging her every time, but she could deal with the judgment. She was used to it. And it was for Ganyu’s safety. She could handle anything.

Right as Keqing called upon the last bubble of Ganyu for the evening, the sight made her breathing come to a sudden pause. It showed Ganyu wearing a navy coat dress, standing outside of the brightly lit window of a store, her eyes trained on what seemed to be a painting of a small creature standing tall on a flower-filled hill with a dazzling night sky behind it.

But the problem wasn’t Ganyu admiring the painting. It was the tall man who brushed past her, slipping off the bag from her shoulder and carrying it with him. Ganyu took notice quickly, seeming startled, all while he took off dashing in the other direction. Xiao wasn’t even by her side.

Her mind thought of all the worst possible scenarios. What if this man was intentionally luring Ganyu to a dark, hidden corner, with the goal of kidnapping her?

Keqing stood up from her seat. She met Ai’s gaze from the other side of the room.

“Go do what you have to do,” Ai said, breathing out a sigh. “I can’t stop you, anyway.”

Without a single moment of hesitation, Keqing brought herself to where Ganyu was, the location that was tracked by the bubble. It was a teleportation skill that she had as a god—one that was discouraged in the mortal realm due to the likelihood of others taking notice of it happening. But the darkness of the night worked in her favor as she found herself standing in a dark corner of a street. And it had also started to rain, though it was soft and light.

She knew she looked nothing like herself. Ganyu wouldn’t recognize her at all. But it didn’t matter, it was the least of her worries. All she could do right now was take quick strides forward toward the silhouette at the end of the alley. It had to be Ganyu for sure, those pointy horns were hard to miss.

As she drew closer, she could see the man from earlier, standing at a small distance from Ganyu. He had a disheveled appearance, with dark circles under his eyes and hair that stuck out in all sorts of directions.

“I would like to become a better person,” he said.

“Luckily for you, it is never too late,” Ganyu said, and she had her head lowered as if she was looking at something. “But you mentioned you had a sickly daughter. I’ll give you as much as you need to cover her medical bills.”

“No, please. That would be too much to ask for.” The man let out a choked laugh. “After I just tried to steal your wallet?”

Keqing’s steps came to a halt as she started to understand what was being said in the conversation. In the single minute that it had taken her to get here, Ganyu had somehow managed to get everything under control. She was both confused and surprised, but it also somehow made sense. If anyone could magically change the heart of a thief, it was Ganyu.

“It’s really never too late to change,” was what Ganyu said, and Keqing took a few steps back.

She was relieved to see that Ganyu was safe. Perhaps she’d acted on a whim. As she normally did, but Ganyu hadn’t needed protection. Keqing felt a little silly to even think that she did. Ganyu had quite literally fought in the Archon War.

And if there was anything she should’ve realized sooner, it was that someone who was successful in the Archon War had to have heightened senses. It was what it took to survive in a war after all—to always be conscious of your surroundings, of even the slightest roll of a pebble on the ground.

Ganyu turned around, her eyes wide and curious. A soft light was reflecting off her hair under the shimmery rain. “May I help you?”

“I…” Keqing’s mouth dried. She pointed behind her. “I was lost.”

Ganyu smiled. It was as bright and dazzling as it always was. “Allow me to help you, then. Give me a moment.”

“I’m fine. I can just find my way.” Keqing cleared her throat and began to walk past them. “Thank you very much, miss.”

“Wait.” Ganyu’s hand reached out quickly, in a flash, over her wrist. “Please.”

Keqing turned around, her gaze falling upon the pleading look in Ganyu’s eyes. Was this how caring Ganyu was with strangers who were lost? Practically begging to have her help them?

If so, then as much as she thought highly of Ganyu’s intelligence, she also was a little worried. One could never be too kind in a world full of cruelty. In one way or another, it was too likely to backfire at some point.

“I will wait,” Keqing said, and she half-expected Ganyu to disappear from her sight. For Keqing to be whisked away back home, or even that dark, creepy cave in Celestia.

And yet, she remained.

Chapter Text

Ganyu had an abundance of patience. She talked to the thief for ten minutes in total, all while he had a revelation as if she’d just changed his life forever. He shed some tears, even, while Keqing stood there awkwardly as Ganyu comforted him throughout it all.

But once he left and she was here alone with Ganyu, Keqing wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

“Thank you so, so much for waiting,” Ganyu said, letting go of her breath and turning to Keqing. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen tonight.”

Keqing somewhat expected Ipos to intervene now that Ganyu was talking to her. But as the seconds passed, it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. Was Ipos waiting for her to slip up and cause a mess?

“It’s not your fault. It’s hard to expect, and it shouldn’t have happened at all.” Keqing slightly shivered as she felt the cool air sweep over them. The soft rain from earlier had stopped, and it only left a damp scent in the air.

“You said you were lost,” Ganyu said, slightly tilting her head. “What were you looking for?”

Her mind only came up with the silliest answer: you. The word that was better left unsaid. Keqing stared at her, taking in how she looked. Ganyu’s gaze was warm, her pink lips were slightly parted, and as Keqing’s gaze drifted down, she saw that her fingers were bare with none of the golden rings to be seen. Of course. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did. It was just a forceful reminder of everything that had happened, the reality of their shared past.

They were currently standing apart with a considerable amount of distance between them. Ganyu, who had taken her by the wrist earlier, had let go of it quickly (much to her dismay, although that part could be left a secret).

“I was looking for something and I ended up losing track of where I was,” Keqing answered, knowing that it wasn’t entirely false. “But it’s fine. I was just about to leave.”

“I could help you find it,” Ganyu said, her eyes flickering to the ground. “If you just tell me what you need.”

Keqing was slightly taken back to see Ganyu avoiding her gaze. Was this the same confident Ganyu she’d come to know? From what she’d seen after all this time, Ganyu had been nothing but kind and sociable when talking to strangers. This was a change. But there was no way Ganyu recognized her, not when she had completely altered her appearance.

“I was looking for a ring for someone.”

She’d made that up on the spot. A ring was something she never cared for, something she would never need. But after looking at Ganyu’s bare fingers, it was the first object that came to mind.

“There’s a jewelry store right around the corner.” Ganyu pointed toward the end of the alley.

“Thank you.” Keqing took one last lingering glance at Ganyu, her eyes taking in every detail once again, as she wasn’t sure when she’d get to see Ganyu again. “I hope you have a good night.”

“I don’t mind taking you there. You mentioned you were lost.”

“You’re much too open and trusting to someone you just met,” Keqing said, and Ganyu only smiled. “I’ve seen you around in advertisements and movies. Aren’t you famous?”

Ganyu tilted her head. “Would that make a difference?”

“Not necessarily.” Keqing raised a brow. “I’m just surprised you’re out and about here and not busy somewhere else.”

This was her way of trying to ask what Ganyu was doing here late in the evening. Not that it was any of her business, but she couldn’t help but wonder. What was she doing out here without Xiao anywhere in sight?

“I had some downtime.” Ganyu followed after her as they walked out onto the street. It was empty with the exception of a few elderly people crossing the road here and there.

There were only a few stores on the street, some with dim lights on, while others seemed completely dark and empty. Bare and closed for business, whether it was temporary or permanent.

“That’s the store over there,” Ganyu said, pointing at a brightly lit building at the corner of the street. “It’s been in business for nearly five hundred years. You might find some good things there, whatever it is that you’re looking for.”

“Thank you.” Keqing slowly walked forward, and Ganyu followed in her steps. It was at a slow, steady pace, and it took everything in her to stay composed. To not look back and catch another glimpse of her face.

Because sure enough, it was what she wanted to do. To see Ganyu in the flesh again was surreal. It also felt criminal, which was partially because she could only imagine what Ipos was thinking seeing all of it. But Ipos was making no move to intervene.

Yet, at least. And Keqing wasn’t so sure what would happen if she kept pushing the limits. It would probably not be the prettiest sight.

“The owner is really kind,” Ganyu said as they stopped outside the large window of the store. “They’re much too nice to ever charge their items for what it should cost.”

Keqing looked inside the store, and then back at Ganyu. There was still a sense of timidity on her face. It was nearly refreshing to see her like this—although, the thought came with its own sense of bitterness. If they were counting, this was the third time she’d had a first encounter with Ganyu.

Once was in the kitchen pre-ascension, once was as a co-star on the set, and now, it was as random strangers who’d come across each other in a dark alley. It stung, even, to think of it all. To have so many beginnings with no single, satisfying conclusion.

“Thank you for taking the time to bring me here,” Keqing said, watching as Ganyu’s eyes slightly lit up. “If I may ask, do you know me?”

Ganyu smiled. “I believe I do. But not in the way that you might think. Perhaps we’ve crossed paths on a sidewalk once.”

There was no way that Ganyu could recognize this form of herself, Keqing had intentionally chosen her features to be unique and not identical to any other mortals currently existing.

The other possibility was for Ganyu to somehow recognize that she was a goddess. This was also a perplexing thought, but it could explain why Ganyu was acting a little strange. But Keqing wasn’t sure how Ganyu would’ve been able to figure that out for herself.

Keqing asked, “Have you heard of me in literature, then?”

Ganyu raised her brows. “What kind of literature?”

Ganyu was looking back at her innocently. It was clear that if Ganyu knew of her identity, she wasn’t going to be the one to admit it first. Keqing didn’t blame her. The reveal would have to fall upon herself.

Keqing braced herself to be swept away by Ipos. She knew it could happen at any point during this conversation. But she still carried on and said quietly, “About gods.”

Ganyu bowed her head deeply. “I have, and I am unworthy of your presence.”

There it was. The confirmation. It sent a small rush of excitement through her to be acknowledged by Ganyu. The excitement was mixed with an equal sense of unease to be in this position interacting with Ganyu as a god.

“You could never be unworthy,” Keqing replied. “How are you aware of my identity?”

Ganyu slightly raised her head, and there was a trace of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Are you simply asking, or is this an order?”

“Would your answer be any different?”

“It would.”

“It is an order, then,” said Keqing, slightly holding her breath as Ganyu’s gaze remained steadfast on her. “How are you aware of who I am?”

“Your aura,” Ganyu answered. “It is astonishingly bright. And there is a soft pink beam to it, which gives away exactly who you are.”

That only explained a fraction of it. Keqing then asked, “How are you able to perceive it? Most, if not all, people cannot.”

“I once served alongside Rex Lapis in the Archon War,” Ganyu said, her voice lowering. “He granted a few of us the gift of perceiving godly auras to aid us in the war, to help us quickly identify the gods to easily determine if they were on our side or not.”

Realization dawned upon her. “I see.”

It was starting to make more sense. Ganyu had never recognized her before, but it was different now that she was in her complete state as a goddess. When she’d been in the mortal realm previously, the majority of her divine power as a goddess had been spent daily on maintaining her clone in Celestia. If Ganyu was able to see auras, then it was likely that she wouldn’t have been able to pick up on such a dim aura.

Although, the ghost they’d encountered in Wuwang Hill had been able to clearly notice her aura while she was in her weakened form. Perhaps the spirits had a greater sensitivity, an innate ability that could not compare to a gifted sight.

“But I sincerely apologize if you didn’t want any attention at all,” Ganyu said, slightly bowing her head once more. “I was merely trying to help.”

Keqing felt a pang in her heart. She wished so badly to tell Ganyu that she was here to see her. That there was a desire stemming deep from her heart that had wished to be recognized all along.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Keqing said, momentarily getting distracted as she saw a stir of movement in the corner of her eyes.

It was a dark-haired man with his head lowered, wearing black from head to toe. With one slight raise of his head, she recognized those unsettling bright eyes immediately. They narrowed instantly.

Keqing wasn’t sure she wanted to stick around any longer. Her fear of Xiao, as irrational as it was, was greater than her fear of Ipos in this very moment. If Xiao were to approach them right now, she was afraid he’d reveal her identity completely to Ganyu.

She cursed him silently. Where had he been this whole time? His appearance struck her with annoyance. But she knew she had to leave. The clock was ticking, and even though her time with Ganyu was short, she knew it was still more than she could have ever wished for.

“I need to get going,” Keqing quickly said, and Ganyu’s gaze quickly raised to meet hers. “I must thank you for the fine wine you left for me the other day.”

Ganyu smiled. “Of course. I must thank you, as well, for everything.”

“No need to thank me. You are worthy of it all,” Keqing answered, very much distracted as she began to back away. She quickly started to walk ahead, not daring to look towards where Xiao was on the street across.

“Are you not going to look for a ring?” Ganyu called out.

“Another time!” Keqing called back, giving her a small wave before turning the corner and walking straight along the dark pathway.

Whatever town this was, it was awfully quiet and deserted. The lack of streetlamps was slightly concerning. The entire sidewalk was cloaked by a shadow that was cast from the building that stood tall over the street.

She made it past a block when a figure stepped out from the shadows, and she recognized that long black coat from earlier. She inhaled sharply when she saw that it was Xiao. She wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten here that quickly, but it came as no surprise considering his history as a Yaksha.

“Ferthur.”

“Xiao.” Keqing met his gaze, willing herself to stay composed.

“Am I correct to make the assumption that you remember now?” Xiao’s face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were as piercing as they always were. “Ganyu no longer has her rings.”

Keqing nodded once.

There was a flash of rage that flickered on his face. “Why are you back?”

“I wanted to make sure she was safe. There was a man who tried to steal her purse just now.” Keqing pursed her lips. “This was an exception. Some people have been making threats towards her so I was worried.”

“Ganyu’s safe,” Xiao said. “We’ve been monitoring all of those threats. You do not have to worry yourself. She is also perfectly capable of protecting herself.”

“Thank you for taking good care of her,” Keqing said tightly. “But I hope you will be more vigilant.”

“I’m always keeping an eye on her. Ganyu has been doing well lately.” His voice grew quiet. “Things should remain the way they are. It would be better if you stopped trying to intervene.”

“You’re quite bold.” Keqing felt a wave of annoyance rise in her chest. “This is a matter between her and myself.”

“My history with Ganyu goes back centuries. Whatever concerns her will concern me.” Xiao’s fists were clenched. “And to be completely honest, you haven’t earned my trust.”

Keqing let out a small, mirthless laugh. “The feeling is mutual. But rest assured, Xiao, I do care for her happiness.”

“If you care, you won't be back. Whatever you’re planning to do now, it likely isn’t what’s best for her.”

“I am back because I care.” Keqing took a step to the side. “But I don’t believe this conversation is going to get us anywhere.”

Xiao let her walk past him. It was a moment later that he called out, “Ganyu’s already happy right now the way she is. Do not disturb her peace.”

Keqing didn’t bother looking back and arguing with him any longer. She also didn’t feel like telling him she was trapped in a small cage with no other options. The Higher Rulers were the ones requiring her to rectify her past mistakes by having Ganyu view the lost memories for herself. It wasn’t as if Xiao would be able to fight against the Higher Rulers.

Of course, if he wanted to, Keqing wouldn’t stop him. She would more than love to see him try. But the truth of the matter was that at the end of the day, he would be powerless against the orders of the Divine Elders. They all were.

➵ ✩

As soon as Keqing was back in her apartment, she received a message from Ipos sent to her phone—through whatever means she took to get her personal number—that asked: Was that really necessary?

To which Keqing only replied with: Yes, and I thank you for allowing me to check on her safety.

It was strange that Ipos had eventually allowed her to see Ganyu despite all of the pushback. But perhaps Ipos had realized she wasn’t trying to go against any of the Heavenly Principles.

She then stared at a new text that she’d received an hour earlier.

Unknown Number:
Keqing, this is Venti.
This is urgent. Can you call me?

With a sigh, Keqing clicked on the green icon to start a call and brought the phone to her ear. Barbatos—no, Venti—picked up on the second call. Her irritation was enough to be willing to call him by such an informal name now. It was her own way of showing her exasperation, although she assumed he wouldn’t perceive it that way. At all.

“How’d you get my number?” Keqing asked.

“Oh, you know, just our mutual old friend who goes by the name of Zhongli.”

“Alright. I wasn’t expecting him to expose my number like that.” Keqing sat back on a bench on the balcony, enjoying the slight breeze that the night offered her. “What did you want to talk about?”

“About you and Ganyu. Are you ready? This is a lot to take in,” said Venti, his voice growing excited. “You might want to be sitting down for this, even.”

“I’m seated. Go ahead.”

“So. I was at a party last night to celebrate the God of Fate’s birthday.” Venti cleared his throat. “Now before you say anything, I wasn’t the one to bring this topic up to Orobas. It was a few other gods who started to talk about you and Ganyu. They don’t know the specifics, obviously, but it was how you made headlines recently in the mortal news.”

“What about it?”

“Nobody knew of your past relationship with her until someone fed Orobas a lot of birthday drinks and started getting him to talk about it.” Venti nervously laughed. “Which, I hope that doesn’t anger you far too much. It was wrong, yes, but literally, all of Celestia shows up to his parties for the sole purpose of getting drunk enough to start stirring drama.”

Keqing stared off into the distance, where she could see a brightly lit window in an apartment across from her that showed a couple slow-dancing together. She wasn’t fazed at all. “That’s how it normally is at his parties, isn’t it? It’s ridiculous, but their gossip doesn’t bother me.”

“That’s an amazing way to look at it! I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that so many gods are on your side. They want you two to have a happy ending.” Venti huffed. “Orobas was dead silent about that part. He’s a funny man, you know, God of Fate and all. He’ll give away events of the past, but he’s strict and doesn’t give away anything about the future.”

“That’s because of the Heavenly Principles stopping him right there.”

“You’re right. But all he said about your past was how you two met and fell in love prior to your ascension. How you two promised each other a bright future together, right until you had to ascend.”

“Did he give any insight as to what happened right before my ascension?”

Venti paused. “No, actually. Do you not remember that, either?”

“No.” Keqing’s gaze fell to her open hand, and she thought back to the rings. “I didn’t leave behind any remnants of those memories. Whether they were insignificant, or too dark that I didn’t want myself to know about them, I’m not sure.”

“I could find out for you,” Venti said. “If you ever want to know.”

Keqing gave a shake of her head. “It’s okay. I’m choosing to trust myself. Whatever reason I chose not to include that memory, I’ll have to respect it for now.”

“Let me know if you ever change your mind.” Venti’s voice grew brighter as he continued, “But I wanted to call you to let you know that you both have the support of so many gods. They’re fascinated, mostly because everyone feels like they don’t know anything about you. You’ve always avoided all of the social events, and you suddenly show up on the news everywhere. They’re on your side mostly out of interest.”

“I thought you said this was urgent.”

Venti laughed. “It is! You have a lot of support right now.”

“But I’m failing to understand how that would help my situation in any way. The other gods, also, their interest comes and goes in the blink of an eye. They may support me today, and turn on me the next day.” Keqing slightly nudged a small, fallen green leaf with her foot. “I’m sure the Higher Rulers don’t necessarily take into consideration what anyone else thinks.”

“It could be a start. Any change has to start somewhere. If we have enough support, there’s a possibility we could try to change their perspective. The gods are opposed to how the Heavenly Principles are forbidding you from loving. Well, they’re opposed to the Heavenly Principles in general, but that’s a story for another day.”

Keqing could already imagine how the Divine Elders would react if they were to hear of this. The three ancient orbs would remain completely silent and nonchalant, steadfast in their ways.

“I admire your optimism,” she said. “As the God of Freedom, I understand why you’d want to help free me from those Heavenly Principles that keep me from loving Ganyu. But it’s okay. Truly. These rules are all I’ve ever known.”

“Sure, they’re all you’ve ever known because they’ve been in place for so long. But does it have to be like this?”

She fell into silence. There was just the smallest sliver of hope in her heart, one that was begging to ask the what-if question. What if change was really possible? What if, through some unrealistic sequence of events, the Heavenly Principles had the potential to be altered?

Keqing immediately snapped out of it. “I don’t see it changing. And besides, I haven’t even shown Ganyu her memories yet. She might not even want anything to do with me afterward.”

Venti only replied softly, “I highly doubt that.”

Lingering on the thought made her uneasy. Fear crept into her mind. This idea that Ganyu would ultimately feel betrayed and cut off all ties with her afterward. She flinched at the thought alone.

“How would the Elders ever agree to change such ancient laws?” Keqing asked. “I find it hard to believe.”

“I’m still working out the details. There are a lot of ways we could go about this.”

“Whatever it is, no offense, but I hope you aren’t the one who presents the idea to them.” Keqing let out a sigh. “You’ve crossed their bad side quite a few times.”

“Your honesty always astounds me.” He laughed brightly. “No worries, Keqing. You know that old saying. If you never try, you’ll never know.”

“If the Elders turn wrathful, I don’t think I’ll ever want to know.”

“But there is also a small chance that they may be kind and righteous. That’s one I’m willing to bet everything on.” Venti’s voice was bright and hopeful. “I was thinking that the first step would be to get a list of gods who are restricted from doing reasonable things because of the Heavenly Principles.”

“That’s pretty biased. Everyone would have different definitions of what’s reasonable and what’s not.”

“I can take care of that, so you don’t have to worry. The point is, in your case, it doesn’t make sense for you to be forbidden from loving. Your pre-existing relationship with Ganyu wouldn’t have been an act of bias if it already occurred before your ascension.”

Keqing was quiet for a second as she let everything sink in. A sad, regretful smile worked itself onto her face. “This would've been useful if it happened 2,700 years ago.”

“I know.” An equal amount of regret was laced through his words. “If I’d known then, I would’ve tried to help you.”

“We didn’t even know each other then.”

“That wouldn’t have mattered. I consider all gods to be my friends, new or old.” Though she couldn’t see him, she could imagine him winking as he was saying this. “I’ll be in touch with you again, Keqing. Hang in there.”

“Thank you, Venti,” Keqing said, fully meaning every bit of it. “You didn’t have to help me. But thank you.”

He let out a cheerful laugh. “No need to thank me. This is what friends are for.”

Friends. The word echoed in her mind again and again. She wasn’t used to depending on others for any help. But as unfamiliar as it was, she was learning to welcome it with an open heart. Venti seemed to actually care for her situation with Ganyu, and for that, she was grateful.

➵ ✩

Keqing sat at her desk later that night with a small box in her hands. The room was dark, with the exception of a small candle that offered some light. But there was enough light to see the box that was made of a purple shade of velvet, and inside it were three golden rings.

The rings were lined up in a perfect line. The one with the vines, the braided ring, and the simple ring. One held her memories, the other held Ganyu’s memories, and the last one was the promise ring she’d given to Ganyu. But there was a question within her that was begging to be asked: the whereabouts of her own promise ring.

She remained in her seat, trying to rummage through her own memories. In the memories that she’d saved for herself, she’d never caught sight of what happened to her own ring. Perhaps Morax knew. But she also felt a certain amount of guilt in her chest that pulled her back from messaging him. She was the reason he’d been sucked into this mess, after all.

It had been his own decision to help her, sure, but then there was everything else he’d done for her. Helping her store away her memories, arranging for her to meet Ganyu again in the present day, offering her a place to stay, and even negotiating with the Higher Rulers to reduce her punishment.

But the growing curiosity she felt within her proved to be stronger. The questions she had for him only seemed to double after speaking with Ganyu today.

Five minutes later, she was pacing her room as she sent a call out to Morax. He answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello, Keqing. How is the mortal realm treating you so far?”

“It’s going alright.” Keqing sat at the edge of her bed, catching a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirror across from her. Her long black hair and brown eyes gave nothing away about her original form, and this was how Ganyu perceived her as the Goddess of Love. “How are you faring with your punishment?”

“It’s barely anything. My life is proceeding as usual.” He then added, “One of my assistants, Chuyu, has become well-acquainted with Ai lately. Have you heard?”

“I have. I think Ai’s talking to her on the phone right now, actually,” Keqing said, right as she heard soft laughter coming from the living room. “That’s a pair I wasn’t expecting.”

“Neither did I.” Morax let out a soft chuckle. “So, what did you want to ask me? Getting a call from you is out of the norm.”

“I saw Ganyu today.”

“That doesn’t take me by surprise.”

“She recognized me as Ferthur,” Keqing said. “She said she was given the gift of seeing auras during the Archon War.”

“That’s correct.”

“Is that how Xiao also knows who I am?”

“Xiao knew of you before your ascension, although the two of you never formally met. But, yes. If Ganyu can see your aura right now, then Xiao should also be able to see it.” Morax paused. “She never saw your aura when you were acting with her, did she?”

“No. A great source of my energy was spent on maintaining my work in Celestia.” She thought back to seeing Ganyu today for the first time since her realization of their past. “How much does Xiao know about what happened?”

“Xiao is the only other person who knew of the contract we made,” he answered. “He helped Ganyu a lot in the months after your ascension. I had no choice but to tell him. But you can trust him. He’s very loyal.”

“Oh, I’ve gathered that he’s loyal,” Keqing quickly said, trying to keep her tone light. “He cares for her. A lot. And I think he wants me gone.”

Morax let out a noise that sounded like muffled laughter. “That sounds like Xiao. He’s very protective. That’s how he’s always been. Don’t let that deter you.”

“I don’t know if he’s considering what Ganyu would want. None of us knows that yet.”

“Xiao’s been through plenty of his own losses,” Morax said quietly. “We all have. But it made him fiercely love the friends who still remain. It might be difficult to see it from his perspective, but he’s also seen Ganyu at her worst. He just doesn’t want to see her like that again. I’m sure you can understand.”

“I never saved those memories for myself, the events of my death and anything that happened after it,” Keqing said quietly.

Silence ensued. Then, he said, “I didn’t know that. I never knew which memories you saved and which you didn’t.”

The remaining gaps in her memories brought with them a sense of unease. And guilt, once more. The reason that she’d never included them could simply be because they were too painful. But was it fair to never have to know of them again? If Ganyu had suffered so much in the past, and Keqing had chosen to remain ignorant…

“I hope you’re not making yourself feel bad right now,” Morax said.

“How’d you know?”

“You had the same crisis before we finalized the contract all those years ago,” he said. “There was actually a period when you said you wouldn’t proceed with it. And then you came back to me to say you were ready. And then you changed your mind again. This went on for weeks.”

Keqing could very well see herself doing that. “But in the end, I caved in.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Would you be upset if I did?”

He made a small confused noise. “I don’t quite understand how that would upset me.”

“Because if I did all of that, made you go against the Divine Elders, all for me to regret it in the end…” Keqing trailed off. “I don’t know. I honestly just feel bad.”

“It is quite alright to regret it, Keqing. We are gods, but we are perfectly capable of making decisions that we come to regret,” said Morax. “But I don’t think you should regret it. It was necessary. Ganyu was completely devastated. She was struggling to function properly.”

“I remember saying that her hands shook when she used her bow, how she was barely eating and sleeping,” Keqing said, and her heart clenched at the memory. “That she was only alive because of the Qilin blood running through her veins.”

“It’s true. I don’t know how much you know, but Ganyu withdrew from the Archon War for a period of time. It was too much for her to handle. I allowed her to rest. But she forced herself back into the battles later when we were in dire need.”

“Of course, she would.” She sighed. “She doesn’t put herself first.”

“She doesn’t.” Morax’s voice grew solemn. “You and I had one last talk shortly after one of the battles she fought in, right before we sealed the contract. Her fear of using her bow was interfering with her ability to fight well. It was creating more openings for the enemies to harm her. She’d nearly gotten killed that day.”

Keqing sucked in a sharp breath at the thought of losing Ganyu. It sent chills down her spine. It was a thought she didn’t want to entertain any longer. “And her fear of using the bow…”

Morax sounded surprised as he asked, “You don’t remember?”

“I don’t. None of the memories I saved reflect why that might’ve been the case.” She felt unease spreading throughout her body. The question that had been hiding in the corner of her mind for the past couple weeks was now stepping out into the light. “Does it have to do with my death?”

“Yes.”

It was an answer she’d been expecting. And yet, it still hit her hard. She took a deep breath. “Okay. That’s quite twisted, then. I’m shooting arrows into everyone’s hearts daily, doing the same thing that someone did to me to cause my mortal demise.”

Morax went quiet on the other end. And then, “That’s a big reason why we both decided this contract would benefit you, as well. It was just as hard for you too. But you were mainly focused on Ganyu’s well-being rather than yourself.”

Keqing stared at the floor. She then blinked, snapping out of the trance. “I see. And was there ever a fourth ring you had in your possession?”

“Just the three.” A pause ensued. “Are you alright?”

“To be honest, I’m not. I think I’m going to go. I need to finish up some matchmaking for the day,” Keqing said, and she wasn’t even quite processing the words that were leaving her lips. “Thank you for the talk.”

“I am here when you need me. Go rest. Your work can wait.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, then after a moment, she added, “Goodnight, Zhongli.”

He made a small surprised noise. “Goodnight, Keqing.”

After the call, she tried getting to work on the matches that were waiting to be made. But the heavy feeling in her chest made everything seem impossible to do right now, especially when her mind kept drifting over to Ganyu every five minutes.

Everything was hard to do. She ended up taking a bath instead to try and relax, but there was nothing she could do to ease this heavy feeling in her chest. It stayed, unable to be pushed aside as if it was her new best friend. Combined with the fear of Ganyu’s reaction to this whole situation, Keqing very much wished she could be anyone else in the world right now.

But then she got a text from Ganyu, one that made her mood instantly brighten. And that contact name, as ridiculous as it was, she couldn’t bear to change it. Not when Ganyu had typed each of those letters herself.

Ganyu (From “Live for Me”):
Keqing! I met someone earlier, someone I’d never ever imagined meeting.
Have you ever been starstruck? That just happened to me, and I couldn’t even think of what to say. I even almost forgot how to breathe too.

Keqing blinked. At first, she was filled with complete surprise—for who could be that special and famous enough to elicit a reaction out of her? And then it hit her that Ganyu had to be talking about meeting the Goddess of Love. Or was that too arrogant of her to assume?

But it had to be.

Keqing typed out a response, then deleted it, and then re-typed it. It took several attempts, all for her to decide in the end to say: I’m sure whoever it was, they were just as starstruck to see you.

And she meant every word of it.

Chapter Text

part ii: the knowledge a goddess gains from her lessons

“You’ve got mail,” Ai said, waving a blue envelope in the air. “From who, I wonder? We’ve already been down here for four months, but I don’t think you’ve given away our address anywhere. Have you?”

Keqing glanced up from the bubble that floated in front of her. She lowered her bow and arrow onto the counter.

“Maybe it’s some kind of bill,” Keqing replied, although she knew it was unlikely. In the months they’d been in the mortal realm, they hadn’t received any kind of mail. All bills were taken care of by Zhongli. She took the white envelope from Ai, turning it over to see that the sender’s name wasn’t written anywhere.

It was a light envelope, but when she shook it, she could hear some of the items contained in it softly shuffling around. Keqing carefully opened the flap of the envelope, trying to be mindful of not tearing through whatever was inside.

There was a letter inside. Keqing pulled it out, and with it, there were small cards that slipped out and dropped on the counter. Some of the cards landed facing up, and it was Ganyu staring back at her. These were Ganyu photocards. Ten of them, in fact. Four of them had glossy, sparkly fronts, which meant those had to be the rare cards.

“Well, today’s your lucky day.” Ai laughed loudly. “I guess we know who sent those.”

Keqing tidied the photocards until they were all lined up next to each other. The photocards for the peach juice had been a summer theme with Ganyu in a bikini. But these ones promoted clementine juice, and they all showed Ganyu in autumn fashion with colorful trees in the background. She wore a long brown coat in a few of the photocards, and a white knitted sweater with a plaid skirt in the others. She was smiling in all of the photocards, and Keqing found herself smiling automatically in response. A reflex, almost.

“You’re hopeless,” Ai said, shaking her head as she clucked her tongue.

“Thanks for letting me know. I could say the same for you.” Keqing opened the letter to Ganyu’s handwriting, which was quite literally perfect. As if all her years of writing and writing had resulted in such a pristine skill. It made sense. But knowing Ganyu, this was a skill that she probably had from the start.

Keqing,

We haven’t talked in a while, and I didn’t wish to disturb you in whatever busy matters you are involved in. I hope you aren’t weirded out by me finding your address, I reached out to the CEO of Stone Gate Productions in hopes that he knew it. He did give me a hard time before finally agreeing! I had to tell him I’d be finally sending him a long-awaited gift that he’s always been asking for.

But I digress. I don’t know if you’re still around in Liyue, but I hope this mail finds you well. You’re in my thoughts! I hope we can meet again soon. I’m currently busy filming for another show, but I can always make time for you.

Sincerely,
Ganyu

Keqing felt a tug in her heart. It was the unfortunate truth that they hadn’t talked in a while—in a few months, to be precise. Ganyu had become extremely busy with various projects, and so had Keqing as she focused on her time-consuming matchmaking work. The distance brought her pain, but it was also necessary to help get her thoughts collected.

But it was also likely that it was all because she was still avoiding the moment she would have to tell Ganyu about their past. She was dreading it, in fact. She’d hoped that the passing time would lessen these feelings and give her a sense of bravery and courage. But she’d been too unrealistically optimistic.

“I understand getting this mail from Ganyu is going to make you want to go see her again, but it’ll be good to think it through before you make any rash decisions.” Ai paused when she saw her. “Oh, great. Of course.”

Keqing glanced back at her innocently. “Yes?”

“Are we going to try pushing Ipos’ limits again today?” Ai asked, gesturing towards the new bubble that had materialized in front of her.

“I just miss her, that’s all,” Keqing said, taking a quick glimpse at the bubble that showed Ganyu in the backseat of a van, her head hidden behind a thick stack of papers. She lightly tapped the bubble, popping it and making it fade away as fast as it had appeared. “See? It’s like nothing happened at all.”

Ai only raised a brow in response.

“Missing someone is a perfectly normal response,” Keqing said defensively, and she leaned forward to look at one of the photocards of Ganyu making a heart shape with her hands as she sat next to a fireplace.

“It is,” Ai agreed, then she turned her attention to her phone. “So about the lady you were asking about earlier, there seems to be a potential match I’ve found. It’s a childhood friend she was close with many years ago.”

“A reunion.” Keqing mindlessly traced a finger along the arrow in front of her. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Here you go again.” Ai quickly snatched the arrow away from her in the blink of an eye. “You’ll be reunited with Ganyu soon too. Hasn’t Barbatos been gathering a lot of support in Celestia?”

Keqing watched as Ai twirled the arrow between her fingers. “Venti tells us it’s going well, but you can never know with him. He might be sugarcoating everything.”

“I thought he was getting a bunch of other gods to get behind him?”

“From what he’s told me over the past few months, he’s been collecting a long list of grievances that the gods have written in opposition to the Heavenly Principles,” Keqing said. “But who knows if that’ll get him anywhere.”

“I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but…” Ai gave her a look as she set the arrow back down. “A little bit of optimism would suit you.”

Keqing averted her gaze. “I suppose it would.”

“We’ll have to be patient. The grievances might just be effective. From everything I’ve heard about the Higher Rulers from you, it seems like they attempt to play fair.”

“That may have been because I had Zhongli on my side. He’s like their favorite child.”

“Then we’ll have to make sure that he’s part of this movement too,” Ai said. “I’m sure he’d be willing.”

“I’ll have to talk to him at some point. I have a feeling he might not be too willing to defy the Elders for me again.”

There was a small sound that rang out from Ai’s phone. The two of them looked at it, then at each other. Ai’s brows shot up.

“It’s Chuyu messaging me. There’s a big package for you that just arrived.” Ai’s fingers moved quickly over her phone as she typed. “Let me get that really quick. Maybe it’s another gift from Ganyu?”

Keqing suppressed the hope that rose in her chest. “Probably not.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe not.”

“What did I say about optimism? I’ll go check.” Ai began to walk out of the living room, and she had a silly smile on her face. One that was most likely not about the package, but a certain assistant who worked under Zhongli.

Keqing let out a sigh and walked towards the doors leading to the balcony. She opened the door, allowing a cool breeze to slip inside the room. The soft hum of cars rushing by soon filled the room. As Keqing took a step closer to the door, she felt a sudden stab of pain on the right side of her neck.

Before she could even cry out for help, darkness filled her vision.

➵ ✩

When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by a night sky. She turned her head to find that she was lying on damp grass. She was surrounded by tall garden hedges with vines of pink roses interwoven throughout them. Keqing rubbed at the sore spot on her neck and stood up slowly, her eyesight adjusting to what was around her.

There was a long path that stretched out in front of her. She walked and walked, but each step didn’t seem to be making much progress. The path ahead seemed to never end. She finally reached the end of it, where she found that it split in two different directions. Left or right, it made no difference to her. She chose to go left.

She pinched herself to see if it was a dream. But that was no good way to tell, not when her dreams were often so vivid. What she did instead was pay closer attention to what was inside her head. She could still hear the faint prayers in the corners of her mind, which meant there was a high likelihood that this was reality. In her dreams, she was never able to hear the prayers of mortals.

Keqing paused when she saw a long blue ponytail blur past the corner of her vision. That shade of blue was one she had engraved in her mind every single day, one that her heart instantly responded to.

“Ganyu,” she murmured, her pace quickening as she walked towards the path to the right. There were too many corners she had to turn, which made it too difficult to see far from what she could see ahead.

But she ran. She could hear Ganyu’s footsteps quickly moving far ahead, as well.

“Ganyu?”

The sound of Ganyu’s footsteps paused. Keqing ran past the never-ending hedges until she came to an open area with a large fountain in the center of it. Keqing walked around the fountain until she saw Ganyu’s back facing her. Ganyu was wearing a slim black dress, her back fully exposed to the air with the exception of her long blue ponytail that trailed down her skin.

“Ganyu,” said Keqing, glancing away from the skin that peeked out at her. “How’d you get here? Where are we?”

Ganyu turned around, her eyes wide. “Keqing! I have no idea. I was just at an awards event and ended up here. Is someone playing a prank on us?”

Keqing’s gaze swept down her long lashes, those shining eyes, and her pretty pink lips. “I…”

“Did you dye your hair, Keqing?” Ganyu stepped forward, her thigh showing through the slit on the side of her dress as she walked.

“My hair?” Keqing glanced down, her fingers reaching up to her pink hair. Somehow she’d broken out of her altered mortal appearance. “I guess so.”

Ganyu’s voice softened as she asked, “Do you plan on lying to me forever?”

Keqing’s gaze snapped up. “What?”

There was a sense of unfamiliarity to Ganyu. It was Ganyu, for sure, and yet, there was a slight coldness to her. Perhaps it was the fact that this was the first time Keqing was seeing Ganyu look at her without the warmth in her eyes.

“You can tell me the truth. I know who you are now.”

Keqing felt a slight chill work its way through her body. Her aura. Ganyu could see her aura right now. “Who am I?”

“That’s something you can tell me yourself directly,” Ganyu said, taking another step closer until they were standing right in front of each other. “Who are you, really?”

“Ferthur,” she said, her voice quiet. A secret untold that was now being released into the air between them. There was no point in lying when she knew she couldn’t conceal her aura.

“Is this your true form?” Ganyu asked, her gaze unwavering.

Keqing felt her world starting to close in. It was happening, the moment that she’d feared for the longest time. The moment she’d been dreading for months.

“Does it frighten you?” Keqing asked, and she felt her heart start to race.

Because it mattered so much, what Ganyu would think of her. Would Ganyu be disgusted with her? Angry? How would she feel? Would she want nothing to do with her, once everything was said and done?

“You’ve disappointed me, Keqing,” Ganyu said, looking away from her. “Did it make you happy to deceive me this whole time?”

“Not at all.” Keqing bit her lip. She wished Ganyu would look back at her, smile at her again, tell her everything was okay. “I never meant to deceive you. I had no choice.”

“My feelings for you…” Ganyu trailed off, her voice becoming hushed. “Did you force them?”

“I would never.” Keqing wanted to scream the words. Her heart was beginning to ache. “Never in a million years.”

“You mean it.”

“I swear on my life.”

Ganyu blinked. Then again. Her face betrayed no emotion. “How do I know you’re not lying to me now?”

“I can prove it,” Keqing said. “I can’t prove that your feelings are real, only because there’s no true way to. Not with my powers alone. But I’d be able to prove that everything I feel for you is real.”

Ganyu looked wary. “And what is it that you feel for me?”

“Must I spell it out for you?” Keqing asked, watching as Ganyu’s eyes trailed after her as she took a few steps to the side. There was still none of the warmth in those eyes that she had become so accustomed to.

This wasn’t her Ganyu. The Ganyu she’d grown to care for after all this time. The Ganyu that she liked tremendously, more than her heart could handle. This, although it had to be reality, wasn’t the Ganyu she knew.

But then who was this impersonation? It was someone who knew of Keqing’s fears. Fears she kept hidden in her own heart. A mortal wasn’t capable of such an act. It had to be a god. But which?

“I’d like you to,” answered Ganyu.

Keqing didn’t spare her another glance. Taking the time to explain her feelings to someone pretending to be Ganyu wasn’t the most pressing concern at the moment. The whole situation was still confusing her, whether this was all real or not. She walked over to the fountain and extended her hand toward the water. It was cold to the touch, rushing through her fingers and spilling right off. Her senses were all intact.

“Let me ask you, then, how you came to discover my identity,” said Keqing, flicking water off her fingers as she faced Ganyu once more. She wondered if this impersonator knew of Ganyu’s ability to see auras. “Was there an exact moment?”

“I think I had a good idea when you first said you were going somewhere far away,” Ganyu answered. “You admitted you were an immortal, but your excuses raised enough alarms on their own.”

That was a conversation she’d had with Ganyu alone. Keqing furrowed her brows as an uneasy feeling grew within her. Whoever this god was, they’d followed the two of them since the beginning. But there was no mention of the aura, which she wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or not.

“You could’ve confronted me from the start when you figured it out,” Keqing said.

“Could you have handled it?” Ganyu asked, tilting her head. “Wouldn’t you have denied it, anyway?”

Keqing opened her mouth, then closed it. This fake Ganyu knew her a little too well.

“Follow me,” Ganyu said, beckoning her past the fountain. “There is something you need to see. I passed by it just a moment ago.”

Keqing didn’t budge from where she was standing. “What is it?”

Ganyu only smiled. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Do you trust me?” Keqing countered.

“That’s a difficult question to answer, Keqing.” Ganyu tilted her head. “But you should still come take a look. It’d benefit the both of us to try and figure out a way to get out of here.”

Keqing felt a tug in her heart at the sound of Ganyu saying her name in that soft voice. It almost felt like a crime for this god to be impersonating Ganyu. As if they could ever mimic perfection. They’d never be able to get close to doing so.

Ganyu turned around and started walking through a path on the other side of the fountain that Keqing hadn’t seen before. Keqing hesitated before realizing she wasn’t going to get her answers without following this impersonator.

She reached for her back, seeing if she could summon her bow. But there was nothing, just her fingers grasping the air. No bows, no arrows. She kept her face neutral as she walked towards Ganyu. The question of whether this area was truly reality or not would continue to remain a mystery. Her senses were intact, but everything about this area was off.

She followed after Ganyu, keeping a good distance between them. Her gaze kept flickering to the skin on her back, the curve of her body in that dress, and she had to yank away her eyes every time. And she felt a growing sense of anger within her, towards this sick god who dared to mimic Ganyu.

Ganyu stopped in front of a portal. It was a tall portal with pearly white edges. The entry was a rippling shade of white, blurring whatever was beyond it. There was a cold breeze coming from the portal.

Ganyu turned around with wide eyes. “Do you know what this is?”

Keqing shook her head, deciding to act oblivious. Two could play this game. “What is it?”

“If you step closer, you hear the sound of battle cries.” Ganyu bit her lower lip. “Whatever it is, it scares me.”

Keqing raised a brow. “You’ve fought in the Archon War before.”

“I have. It still brings back unpleasant memories.” Ganyu paused. “But perhaps we must pass this to leave this place.”

“Be my guest.” Keqing tilted her chin towards the portal. “I’ll follow after you.”

“It’s too much to bear alone,” Ganyu said, extending a hand towards her. “We can do it together.”

Keqing made no move to take her hand. “Just a minute ago, you were saying you didn’t trust me.”

“Despite the uncertainty, I trust you right now. We’re stuck in a random maze in the middle of nowhere.” Ganyu gave her a funny look. “Don’t you want to escape?”

Keqing matched her gaze. “I’d rather look for a proper exit than go through a random portal. It could lead us to our deaths.”

“You wouldn’t do it for me?”

Keqing found herself starting to yawn without realizing, and she turned her face and covered her mouth with a hand. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be stuck here with this impersonator. She could see this fake version of Ganyu arguing with her for hours about this matter if she continued to refuse to pass through the portal.

“I’ll do it for you,” Keqing finally said, taking Ganyu’s hand. “Let’s see what’s beyond this.”

Ganyu smiled beautifully. It sent a wave of confusion through her body to see her favorite smile worn so artificially. Whoever this was, Keqing would make them regret ever doing such a thing.

Ganyu led her through the portal. She felt a cold rush of air sweep past her body as a flash of white flooded her vision for a split second. The next step she took was on a field of wheat. The sun was warm on her skin. There was the sound of birds chirping, but the peace was interrupted by the loud trots of horses nearby.

Keqing realized her hand was empty. She turned to her side, but Ganyu was nowhere to be seen. She frowned and faced the direction of the sound of horses.

A man with gray hair pulled the reins on the horse he was on, stopping as he asked, “She was last spotted here?”

A younger man was next to him on another horse. “That’s what the report said. They said she was with her mortal lover.”

A dry laugh came in response. “A mortal lover?”

“Have you never heard of her? Their wedding is scheduled for a few months from now.”

“I could care less about what that monster does in her personal life.” The older man curled his lip. “We’ll put an end to it today, once and for all.”

“General, I wouldn’t go that far as to call her a monster, but—”

Keqing’s eyes lingered on the black bow that rested on the general’s back. She felt her stomach drop as she recognized these lands belonged to ancient Liyue. The ponds below them gave it away with their lotus flowers, along with the tall red buildings that glimmered underneath the sun far below this hill. And the so-called “monster” with a mortal lover had to be in reference to her relationship with Ganyu.

Keqing was tempted to attack these men. But there was no point if this was a memory. She had a growing sense of what this memory was going to entail. It was starting to make her feel lightheaded.

But she walked forward with these men who were on the lookout for a certain half-Qilin with her lover. They traveled downwards from the hill, where there was a garden pavilion below in the distance. She could already see her purple-haired mortal form in Ganyu’s embrace.

“General, if I may ask you to reconsider. This is treason. We’re fighting in this war to honor Rex Lapis. Ganyu is said to be one of his favorites.”

The general’s lip curled. “Do you doubt my ability to lead the army, Jinglun?”

“Of course not, General.” Jinglun instantly lowered his head in respect. “With your wisdom and tactics, we’ve already won hundreds of battles alone.”

“Hundreds of battles have been won without that monster.” The general had a mirthless smile playing across his lips. “Liyue shall prosper just the same.”

There was a bead of sweat that trickled down Jinglun’s forehead. “Yes, General.”

Keqing stared at the general. It was somebody she didn’t recognize. But what could Ganyu have done for him to be so bloodthirsty? Was it envy over Ganyu’s success in the war? Was it favoritism from Rex Lapis that he sought, in hopes of diverting the god’s attention by killing one of his prized warriors?

“I just thought of a better idea.” The general had a gleam in his eyes. “That mortal lover of hers can go with her.”

Jinglun’s head quickly turned to him. “But…”

Keqing closed her eyes and covered her ears. She slowly crouched on the ground, consumed by the weight of it all. She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want any of this.

It was forgotten by her for a reason. So which cruel god was this, forcing her to relive it?

The horses moved along, and the men’s voices grew quieter. But Keqing stayed still, unable to move. She shivered under the warm sunlight.

And then it came. The sound of a scream. She didn’t have to look to realize it came from Ganyu.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Keqing jolted at the sound of Ganyu’s voice. But it wasn’t her Ganyu. This Ganyu with the same black dress as earlier came to sit next to her on the hill, relaxed as she sat crossing her legs.

“The general ended up aiming an arrow toward me first. But you noticed and stepped in to take the hit for me.” Ganyu smiled, her hand reaching out to play with her hair. She held up some strands in the air. “Your hair is back to purple now, Keqing. It suits you.”

“Who are you?” Keqing whispered, her voice breaking.

“You’re crying.” Ganyu wiped at her cheeks with her thumbs. “Is it because of me?”

“You can quit pretending that you’re Ganyu.” Keqing flinched away from her grasp. “You can’t fool me.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Ganyu’s brows drew together. “Don’t you like this feeling? Doesn’t it make you feel alive?”

Keqing stood up on her feet, taking a few steps away. “You’re absolutely sick. Does watching me suffer give you a weird sense of satisfaction?”

“Does it?”

Their surroundings shifted from the bright sunny day on the hill to a dark rainy night near a large ancient building, a home that looked like it belonged to a noble family. A few yellow lanterns were glowing outside. Raindrops fell on her skin as Keqing turned to her side.

Ganyu was there, smiling at her. “Do you remember this place?”

Keqing looked back at the building. “No.” She then let out a shaky sigh. “What are you trying to prove to me?”

“Look in there,” Ganyu said, pointing at a window. “This was the house we were supposed to live in after our wedding.”

Keqing turned her face away from the house, and the rain was starting to fall heavily on them. She felt her heart clench as she stepped below a tree to cover herself from any more of the rainfall. “I refuse to look. Do us both a favor and stop acting like you’re Ganyu. You could never be her.”

“Would it be better for you if I revealed my true self?”

“As if you would.”

“I have no issue doing that.”

Keqing watched as the impersonator’s appearance morphed into a tall man with long dark hair tied back into a ponytail. His red eyes were narrowed, lacking any sense of warmth when paired with his tall cheekbones and pursed lips.

She recognized this as the physical form of the God of Trickery. It was starting to make sense, this false sense of reality she was stuck in. From what she’d heard, Malphas excelled in creating delusions for mortals—but she would’ve never predicted that she’d ever become a victim of his antics.

Keqing frowned. “You’re not going to get away with this, Malphas. Once the Higher Rulers get a hold of this—”

“I don’t believe you’re in a place to dictate what’s right and what’s wrong,” Malphas said, his brows raising. “You’ve violated plenty of the Heavenly Principles yourself.”

“I didn’t know it was a competition,” Keqing said dryly. “Why have you brought me here, Malphas? Have you been stalking me all this time?”

Malphas extended his hand, and a crow flew down to perch itself on his finger. “Are you aware of the fact that we both ascended in the same year?”

Keqing thought it was dramatic to have a crow appear in this false reality. As if all of this wasn’t dramatic enough. She wasn’t sure what was true or not, but she had a bad feeling that the facts about her death weren’t fabricated at all. She was already feeling herself starting to suppress it all. It wasn’t something she could deal with right now. Not now, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would be able to.

“Keqing?”

She snapped her gaze to him. “Don’t call me that.”

Malphas was unfazed. “I asked you a question.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re deserving of an answer.”

“Then let me remind you then, that we ascended in the same year. Prior to your ascension, as we both know, you were known as Liyue’s Matchmaker.” Malphas snapped his fingers, and the scenery changed once more.

The rain stopped. They were standing in a familiar street that looked like it was in Liyue Harbor. There was a big crowd gathered, and a red carriage being carried on the shoulders of men. People cheered and threw flower petals on the ground they walked on.

“I loved this woman for most of my life before my godhood.”

Keqing looked at him in bewilderment. Was this the reason? Had she matched away his mortal lover to someone else? “Okay. And? Is that why you’re doing this to me?”

Malphas’s eyes narrowed. “You took her away from me.”

Keqing wasn’t sure who was inside that carriage. But if there was this much commotion, it had to be someone of a high-ranking status. She had a good idea of who it could be. A single glimpse through the window of the black-haired woman inside was enough proof.

It was Furong, the eldest daughter from a prestigious noble family, who had defied her parents’ expectations and spent most of her days as a sailor. Keqing remembered facilitating the match between Furong and a well-known seamstress in Liyue. Their match resulted in two happy brides.

But Keqing hadn’t known about Malphas before her ascension. She didn’t even recall Furong being with a man before becoming married.

“Malphas. If I’m being completely honest, she probably never liked you to begin with.”

“That is not the point. There’s been a total of fifty women I’ve loved in all my years,” Malphas said, his brows furrowing. “And you have always matched each of them with other undeserving mortals.”

“If they were never matched to you, it was because you would’ve never been a genuine pair. Not to mention the fact that I cannot provide my services for any gods. When I was a mortal, I was setting people up based on my instincts alone. As a goddess, there’s been an intricate system I use to match people based on their compatibility. It’s never made an error.”

“That’s incorrect. The matches you made for Ganyu all fell through.”

Keqing felt a surge of annoyance within her. “Is stalking me one of your favorite pastimes?”

“I wouldn’t consider it stalking when your mistakes were blown all over the headlines.” Malphas’ gaze was cold. “Why would you deserve your own love story if you were constantly depriving me of mine?”

“You’ve got it all confused.” Keqing sighed. “I am forbidden from engaging in my own love affairs.”

“The world is cruel and unfair, isn’t it?” Malphas stepped on a branch, and it broke beneath his feet. “But Keqing, I will give you a chance to rectify this.”

“Rectify?”

“There is a woman I am in love with now.” He snapped his fingers, and the scenery changed until they were in a park on a sunny day. A woman sat on a bench, her head lowered as she flipped through the pages of a book. “I’d like you to match her to me.”

Keqing blinked. “I can’t. That violates the Heavenly Principles.”

“The Heavenly Principles are outdated rules that simply don’t apply anymore to us,” he sneered.

“But who are you to decide that for yourself? You don’t have the same authority the Divine Elders do.”

“Those decaying souls? It’s a wonder how they’re still with us.” Malphas laughed. “Don’t worry about that. When you do this for me, I’ll have my own ways of hiding it from them.”

“You’re asking me to trust you, which is ironic, considering you’re the God of Trickery himself.” Keqing gave him a look. “I would never do that for you. Forcing a match would defy my own principles as the Goddess of Love.”

“It isn’t forcing a match. She’s meant to be with me. She’s even professed her love to me already. Would you like to see?” Malphas snapped his fingers again, and this time they were both standing in a bedroom.

Keqing looked away. “This is quite unnecessary.”

The bedroom quickly slipped away until they were back in the park. “You will do this for me, won’t you?”

“I will not.” Keqing gave a shake of her head. “I’m not going to violate the Heavenly Principles. Say all you want about how you think they’re pointless, but I’m free to make my own decisions.”

He pursed his lips. “You should think wisely.”

“I have. That’s the only wise choice here.”

“It’s quite amusing to see that you believe you have a choice at all.” Malphas smiled brightly. “You will do it.”

“Are we going to keep arguing back and forth for hours about this?”

“We don’t have that much time to spare.” He pointed at her hair. “Have you noticed you’ve reverted to your original mortal form?”

Keqing glanced at her hair and back at him. “Isn’t this all just a part of this delusion?”

“Not quite.” Malphas tapped his chin with a finger. “Your body is currently losing its divine energy as we speak. With each second you waste, you’re losing a crucial amount. It’d be good for you to act quickly.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Keqing asked, knowing very well she wouldn’t be able to trust whatever answer he’d give her. She had to find a way to escape this delusion.

But she’d never been in this situation before. She knew nothing about how his delusions worked, or how to evade them. There was nobody she could call upon for help here.

“It doesn’t matter, Keqing. You’ll find out soon enough.”

She looked behind him at the sky, noticing the pink hues of the sunset. The clouds were floating by slowly, and there was even a group of birds flying over them. As fake as this scene was, it was impressive how real it seemed.

“I can’t summon my bow and arrow,” she said, holding her hand out in front of her. “I couldn’t make the match if I wanted to.”

“Oh, how silly of me to limit your ability.” Malphas gestured for her to continue. “Try now.”

Keqing first summoned a bubble. She quickly located the woman Malphas was currently obsessed with, and she summoned her bow and arrow. The arrow had its classic pink heart-shaped tip, but hidden inside it was a substance made of lead.

Lead that would create pure aversion towards an individual for the person who received the heart. She’d never had to once use this arrow in all her years as the Goddess of Love. But in this situation, she deemed it perfectly necessary. If she didn’t already, this woman would grow to detest Malphas.

“Go on now,” Malphas said, tilting his chin towards the bubble.

She smiled at him. “I will take the time I need. There’s no need to rush me.”

Keqing then drew back the arrow and released it, watching as it flew straight into the bubble and popped it, disappearing in the blink of an eye. Malphas had a triumphant look on his face.

“You made a good decision,” Malphas said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll take you back to reality. But you’ll be weak, as I had to lessen your powers to bring you here.”

There was a flare of anger within her. “Do you believe you’ll get away with all of this?”

“Oh, Keqing.” Malphas clucked his tongue. “I always do.”

He then snapped his fingers, and the next second, she was back on the bed of her apartment. The first thing she noticed was the pounding headache she had. She flinched as she slowly sat up, her eyes trailing over to the vanity in her room. The mirror showed her true appearance, and not the altered disguise she’d chosen for herself. Her face looked more pale than usual, and her hair was a strange mixture of pink and purple strands. As if her body had been struggling to decide between her goddess form and her once-mortal form.

The faint prayers of the mortals still remained in her mind. Her godhood was still hers.

She rested a hand against her head as she walked towards the door of the room. She pulled it open, and she saw Ai in the living room.

Ai jumped up in surprise. “Keqing! Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you everywhere for two days.”

Two days. Whatever delusion Malphas has created for everyone, to have her disappearance last two days… It was unsettling to think that he could harness that amount of power.

“It’s a terribly long story,” Keqing said, wincing at her headache as she shuffled forward onto the couch. She closed her eyes to spare herself from some of the pain as she asked, “Who’s ‘we?’ You and Chuyu?”

There was a knock at the front door. Ai looked at it, and then back at her with the same wide eyes. “Ganyu and Xiao. That should be them.”

“What?” Keqing peeked at her through one eye. “Ganyu and Xiao?”

Ai looked panicked. “I had no other choice. I reached out to Morax at first, but that was what he suggested since he had no way of coming to the mortal realm.”

Keqing already knew her headache was only about to get so much worse.

Chapter Text

As she stared at the door, Keqing was torn between wanting to flee versus finally facing Ganyu. But she knew what she would choose, even if she was confronted with these options every single time. The choice she’d make every time would be to see Ganyu. Without a second thought, it would always be Ganyu.

She couldn’t keep running from the truth forever. It was bound to be uncovered at one point, and this could be a step in the right direction. It would have to be a baby step for now. She wasn’t sure how much of everything she would be able to reveal. How much Ganyu could handle, how much she would even stick around for, how much she would forgive Keqing for.

“You can go to your room. You’re not in your disguise,” Ai said, standing up and walking towards the door. “I’ll tell them that I found you safe and sound.”

“It’s okay. I’ll open the door,” Keqing replied, taking a small step forward. “It’s about time that I talked to her about all of this.”

“Do you think they’ll let you?” Ai asked, pointing upwards.

She thought back to the Elders and Ipos. Keqing hadn’t been forbidden specifically from seeing Ganyu, but Ipos was still monitoring her movements. And she wasn’t in her disguise. She supposed Ipos and the Higher Rulers were wary about her seeing Ganyu out of fear that she would be engaging in some type of love affair. But the Elders had also ordered her to be the person to reveal the truth of their past to Ganyu.

“Ganyu deserves to know. They wanted me to tell her, anyway. It was always just me being a coward.” Keqing walked forward, her strides a little weak and uneasy. But she made it to the front door.

Keqing’s hand hovered over the handle. She wasn’t ready for this in the slightest. Nothing could ever prepare her for what was to follow. But she sucked in a sharp breath and pulled it open.

It was Ganyu. Just Ganyu. Her Ganyu. Ganyu, with her long blue hair, her pretty iridescent eyes, and her dainty lips that were curved to make the shape of a small “o.”

Ganyu blinked a few times, then once more. Her lashes were fluttering as she blinked so quickly. “Keqing?”

Keqing’s eyes trailed over her face. It had been a few months since she’d last seen her. “Ganyu.” A beat of silence passed between them. Keqing opened the door wider. “Do you have time to talk? You can come inside.”

Ganyu didn’t say anything. The two stared at each other for twenty seconds—Keqing was counting to distract herself from the bundle of anxiety that she felt in her chest.

“Your aura,” Ganyu finally whispered, standing still at the doorway. “Are you really Keqing?”

“This is her,” Ai piped in, offering small obnoxious laughter in the background. “We finally found her. She must’ve gone on a long journey to find more of that new clementine juice you’ve been promoting.”

Keqing ignored Ai’s rambling. “I’m Keqing.” She was tempted to look away, but she kept her gaze trained on Ganyu’s wide eyes. “I know that you must be able to see my aura. I’m really, really sorry it took me this long to tell you. I couldn’t figure out how to. But if you’ll let me explain it to you, I will.”

“Oh.” Ganyu’s eyes widened, and she bowed her head deeply in respect. “Forgive me. I… I don’t even know what to say.”

Keqing felt the words dissipate from her brain. She tried to ignore her headache, but it just kept getting worse. She took a few steps away from the door and pressed a hand to her head.

“Are you okay?” Ganyu asked, taking a step closer to her. Her hands hesitated over Keqing’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s okay. It’s still me,” Keqing said, and she felt her eyelids lowering as she leaned into Ganyu’s touch. She whispered, “Your Keqing.”

The world faded to black as she felt herself being caught in Ganyu’s arms. It wasn’t the first time, but it was unfortunate to think that it was happening again.

➵ ✩

When Keqing woke up, she was lying in her bed. But at the edge of the bed was Ganyu, sitting on a chair with her head angled to the side as she slept right by Keqing’s legs. There was a soft, yellow light in the room that came from a lamp in the corner, and it cast its warm color over Ganyu’s hair.

Relief was her immediate emotion. Relief that Ganyu hadn’t left, that she had truly stayed. It gave her a small shred of hope. Perhaps it was wrong to have, but she would hold onto it regardless.

Her headache had improved. Massively. Whatever Malphas had done to her, she believed that he had interfered with her divine energy. Draining it, somehow, in whatever sick method he had up his sleeve. But her divine energy was replenishing slowly, it seemed. It had to. Her powers stemmed from Celestia, but also through the faith and prayers of the mortals here in this world.

Keqing adjusted herself in the bed, tugging her bed covers closer to her. She also noticed Ganyu had no blanket around her. She sat up and reached over to the folded blanket on the corner of the bed, bringing it over to drape it across Ganyu’s back.

Ganyu’s eyes slowly opened. “You’re awake.”

“You should get more sleep,” Keqing said, tugging the blanket over Ganyu’s shoulders. “Are you comfortable like that? You can sleep on the bed if you’d like.”

Ganyu sat up straight, her posture prim and proper. “I’m completely comfortable here. Thank you.”

Keqing held back a laugh. “Ganyu.”

Ganyu’s eyes were lowered, her gaze trained on the floor. “Yes?”

“Will you please look at me?”

Ganyu’s eyes met hers. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m feeling a lot better, yes. Thank you.” Keqing couldn’t get a sense of whatever emotions Ganyu had to be feeling at this very moment. “Is it okay for you to be here? Don’t you have a packed schedule?”

“That doesn’t matter to me right now,” Ganyu said, her voice soft. “I was worried sick about you.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Ganyu blinked, and then looked away. “I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re Ferthur.”

“I know. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you to realize this. I really never meant to get tangled up in the mortal world like how I did, but…” Keqing faltered. If she didn’t shut herself up, she would end up continuing with, But then I met you. As true as they were, the words made her cringe.

She stopped herself from saying anything else. But she saw Ganyu turn back towards her with a look on her face, although she wasn’t sure what exactly this look meant. Was it embarrassment?

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It makes sense for a god to choose not to reveal their identity to mortals. We have no such right to know.” Ganyu bit her lip. “It’s just that…”

“It’s just that?” Keqing asked, starting to feel a little nervous. Would Ganyu bring up her unhappiness with the whole situation?

“It’s just that I cannot believe I kissed the Goddess of Love herself. And then…” Ganyu took a deep breath. “You must’ve also heard my prayer.”

Keqing opened her mouth to respond, but she paused when Ganyu used the blanket to bury herself in and hide.

“I found your prayer endearing.” Keqing poked the side of Ganyu’s blanket. “It was so sincere.”

Ganyu let out a small laugh. “I don’t even know how to respond to that. Thank you?”

Keqing retracted her hand. “I’m sorry. You can act like it never happened if that makes you feel better.”

“No, it’s not that. Not at all,” Ganyu replied quickly. “I don’t regret it.”

Hearing those words brought Keqing’s thoughts to a halt. “Oh.”

There was a silence that followed. It was a comfortable silence, although slightly awkward. Ganyu was still hiding in her blanket.

Ganyu finally spoke, “I meant every word I said in the prayer, although it’s quite embarrassing to think about right now.”

“Your prayer didn’t go unheard,” Keqing said.

“I suppose it didn’t.”

Keqing lowered her head, somewhat in shame. “I do want to apologize for causing a mess on the headlines for you when I kept messing up your dates.”

Ganyu didn’t stir. Or, rather, the blanket didn’t. “I don’t mind.”

“It was my reason for coming here,” Keqing said. “I wanted to see why those matches kept failing and handpick someone for you myself.”

Ganyu’s eyes peeked out from the blanket. “I see. Were you able to?”

“I tried. It was supposed to be Lanxi,” Keqing said, her mind momentarily drifting off to their past.

Ganyu’s body slightly shook from laughter. “Lanxi?”

“Please don’t laugh at my hard work. There was really nobody else that I thought was worthy of you.”

Ganyu’s head finally poked back out of the blanket. “Really? Nobody else?”

Keqing found it hard to formulate a thought with Ganyu staring back at her. She cleared her throat. “You have quite an impressive list of feats trailing you wherever you go. How could anybody else compete?”

Ganyu smiled as she said, “I’m honored to hear such praise from you.”

“It’s only the truth.” Keqing couldn’t help but smile back. There was the familiar smile she’d been yearning to see after all this time. “You’re honestly reacting better than I expected.”

“It’s starting to make more sense now,” Ganyu said, slightly tilting her head. “How you were able to get a position in the movie thanks to, I’m assuming, Zhongli, and… I was never able to see your aura prior to this, but even then, you’ve always stood out.”

“Probably because of my awkwardness that came from not knowing how to act as a mortal.”

“Not at all. More so the fact that your beauty stands out. It’s quite fitting for the Goddess of Love.”

Keqing felt her face growing warm. She was tempted to look away, but she kept her gaze trained on Ganyu. “It doesn’t give you any fear?”

Ganyu gave a small shake of her head. “You could never scare me. It isn’t like you just revealed yourself as the God of Misfortune to me. Maybe at that point, I’d be a little worried. But as you said earlier, you’re still the same Keqing I’ve come to know.”

“I’m still Keqing,” she agreed.

“I’m a little tempted to bow at your feet and call you Ferthur. It’s taking a lot for me to stop myself from doing that,” Ganyu said. “But I know you wouldn’t like that.”

Keqing couldn’t even imagine it. “No, I very much wouldn’t.”

“But I do still feel unworthy of your presence. It’s a strange feeling. You’re Keqing, but to discover that you’re also Ferthur…” Ganyu gave her a small smile. “I am amazed. Awestruck. Words can’t even begin to describe it.”

“You flatter me.” Keqing blushed. “That was much like how I felt when I met you on the set of our movie.”

Ganyu paused. “I was always teasing you, but I didn’t know if you were truly a fan of mine from the start.”

“I think I’ve been your fan since the very beginning of it all,” Keqing said.

With a confused expression, Ganyu asked, “Since the very beginning?”

Keqing stared back at her. The words were escaping her at this very moment. It felt unfair to suddenly dump the information onto Ganyu. Especially after just having uncovered her divine identity. The thought of exposing their past sent a wave of anxiety through her. There weren’t many things in this world that feared her as a god, but this did.

She was also wary. She’d been afraid of Ganyu discovering her identity and accusing her of manipulating her feelings. But Ganyu hadn’t mentioned that at all. Perhaps it hadn’t crossed her mind yet. Unless it was truly just the fact that she was projecting her own fears onto Ganyu.

She wouldn’t be the first one to bring that matter up. Suddenly saying, “I know you like me, but I want you to know I didn’t force you to have those feelings,” sounded so wrong. Because there was still a silly thought within her mind that Ganyu would take it all back, say that she’d never liked her in that way to begin with, that it had all been just her being friendly after all this time.

Maybe it was unlikely. But the fear was nagging at her, sitting patiently in the corner of her mind. As if she hadn’t already heard Ganyu pray to her directly before. That prayer alone said more than enough.

“You should get more sleep,” Keqing said, and she felt the knot in her stomach start to ease up at the thought of the conversation moving on. “I’m sure you’ve had a busy day.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying up all night with you if I could,” Ganyu replied. “But you need the sleep too.”

“Will you rest in bed, at least?” Keqing asked, her fingers trailing over the space next to her. “I don’t know how you’re going to sleep sitting up.”

“I…” Ganyu’s eyes widened. “I…”

“We don’t have to share it. You can take the bed. I can go into the living room.” Keqing kicked off her sheets and stood up straight. “Sleep up here.”

“Hold on.” Ganyu’s hand caught her wrist. “You’d be too far. And the couch is uncomfortable.”

All the thoughts in her mind came to a sudden halt, and her focus caught on Ganyu’s touch. “I’ll only be a door away.”

“I’m afraid of you disappearing again.”

Again. Keqing knew Ganyu was referring to her recent absence, but her mind also drifted back to the past. How her disappearance in Ganyu’s life all those centuries ago had caused such distress within her and started this whole situation.

“I won’t be leaving again.”

Ganyu’s gaze drifted to the side of the bed, and she looked bashful. “The thought of sharing a bed with a goddess—”

“Forget about all of that.”

Ganyu blinked. “Forget that you’re a goddess?”

“I know it seems impossible, but I see you as my equal. You are no less than I am,” said Keqing. “In fact, you’re far greater than that in my eyes.”

Ganyu’s lips slightly parted.

And all Keqing was thinking about was how much she wanted to kiss those lips.

“That’s a profound statement,” Ganyu said softly.

Keqing nodded, averting her gaze from Ganyu’s lips back to her eyes. “But I mean it.”

Ganyu stood up slowly. “I’ll go to sleep in the living room. You can rest here.”

This time, it was Keqing who reached out to grab her wrist. “Wait. Weren’t you the one saying I’d be too far from you?”

Ganyu wore a baffled expression as she said, “Well, yes, but…”

Keqing weighed her choices. She didn’t want Ganyu sleeping out on the couch. But she wouldn’t ask her to do anything that would make her feel uncomfortable.

After a slight moment of hesitation, Keqing asked, “Will you stay?”

Ganyu cracked a small smile. “We’re going to stay up for hours debating this matter.”

Keqing cleared her throat. “You’re free to take the couch, but you’re also free to stay here. This bed has plenty of space for the two of us.”

“Then…” Ganyu took a few steps closer. “I’ll stay. For my own peace of mind, I’ll tell myself I’m sharing a bed with Keqing. I’ll try not to think about the fact that you’re Ferthur.”

Keqing found everything she said, her repeating her thought process aloud, so endearing. “I’m the same Keqing you’ve known this whole time.”

“The same Keqing.” Ganyu walked and stopped right on the other side of the bed. “Except you have this glowing aura that reminds me every time of who you are.”

Keqing let out a dramatic sigh. “That’s a shame. If I could figure out a way to shut it off for you, I would.”

“I wouldn’t like that.” Ganyu had a small smile on her face. “I like your aura.”

Keqing nodded. “Okay. Good to know.”

She’d never paid much mind to how her aura may appear, but in this moment, she was grateful for it. May her aura never die.

“I’ll be sharing a bed with Keqing,” Ganyu said, although it sounded again like she was more so talking to herself, “not Ferthur.”

“Just me, plain Keqing.”

Ganyu climbed onto her bed with the blanket still over her shoulders. Keqing could finally see that she was wearing a pair of light-blue pajamas that she recognized as clothes from her own closet. She’d never worn them, but perhaps there was a reason for that. It was as if they were meant to be only worn by Ganyu.

“Plain is a word choice I disagree with,” Ganyu said, and she stayed sitting on the edge of the bed.

Keqing watched as Ganyu began to lie down, but then she figured her stare was probably intimidating. Keqing pulled her sheets up, getting her head adjusted on her pillow as she looked straight up at the ceiling. There was the sound of the sheets rustling as Ganyu got in the bed, and then the soft sound of her head hitting the pillow.

“Goodnight,” Keqing said, forcing her eyes shut. She knew that if she turned to her side and saw Ganyu, she would have a hard time looking away. “Thank you for coming back to find me.”

“Of course. I’m just glad you’re here, safe and sound.” Ganyu paused. “I missed you more than you could ever imagine.”

“I missed you too.” Keqing then turned over to her right, finally taking a look at Ganyu. She’d been holding back the urge, but this was a moment that she’d been practically dreaming about for months now. She’d take every chance she could to treasure it.

Ganyu was turned on her side, facing her with a soft smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Keqing felt bliss spread in her heart at Ganyu’s gentle presence and her sweet smile.

Perhaps Ganyu’s presence right next to her provided her with the peace she didn’t know she needed. If she hadn’t been so exhausted, she would’ve stayed up tossing and turning due to the bundle of nerves that came along with sleeping right next to Ganyu. They were sharing a bed, a concept that she would’ve never expected. But Keqing felt her eyes close, and sleep soon followed. Drifting away to sleep had never felt easier.

➵ ✩

The morning sun was bright and lovely. Keqing squinted as she opened her eyes and stretched her arms high above her head. There was a quiet rustle of sheets beside her, and Keqing was startled before she realized it was Ganyu. Ganyu, who was fast asleep, lying on her side and facing Keqing.

She’d nearly forgotten Ganyu was here sleeping in her bed. Keqing almost fell over at the sight, but she quickly maintained her composure.

Ganyu’s sleeping expression was so calm and peaceful. A few of her blue hair strands fell over her face, right around her parted lips. Keqing was filled with the urge to capture this moment for herself. It was a shame she couldn’t paint.

Waking up next to Ganyu truly felt like a dream, a possibility of what could be hers. But it was an unattainable dream, one that she had to constantly remind herself of. She let a sigh escape her lips as she averted her gaze.

Keqing slowly slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake her. She quietly opened the bedroom door and walked into the bathroom. As she washed her face and got ready for the day, Keqing wondered if the cold water would be enough to slap some reality into her. But it felt real enough.

It was real, the fact that Ganyu was here with her right now, just a door away. It was all so real.

But despite how happy it made her feel, she also felt a sense of dread at the realization of what had happened yesterday. Malphas would soon discover her arrow hadn’t created the fateful match that he so desired. She had to get to the Higher Rulers before he found out and retaliated in whatever other tricks he had up his sleeve.

Judging by the fact that Ipos hadn’t interfered yet with Ganyu staying the night, Keqing wasn’t sure if the goddess was even aware. Had Malphas created some sort of delusion to conceal what had occurred yesterday?

Unless there was a chance that Ipos was aware of Ganyu being in such close proximity to Keqing, and, even knowing this, wasn’t too concerned. An unlikely thought, but she couldn’t help the hope that it carried with it. Venti’s too-hopeful attitude was already getting to her and infesting her own thoughts.

By the time Keqing left the bathroom and walked out into the living room, she was met with Ai’s inquisitive face.

“What in the world happened yesterday? Is everything okay?” Ai asked, her eyes searching Keqing’s face and body. “Are you feeling better?”

“I’m feeling better after getting rest. It was Malphas.” Keqing then paused as anger rose within her. “Malphas was messing with me.”

“What did he do?”

Keqing clenched her fists as she frowned. “He…”

There was nothing that came to her mind. Her mind went completely blank. She wasn’t sure why the God of Trickery’s name had been on the tip of her tongue. The anger she had felt a second ago seemed to have subsided, and she was filled with a somewhat eerie sense of peace.

“You don’t remember?” Ai’s eyes widened with worry. “We need to report this to Celestia.”

“Report what?”

Ai furrowed her brows. “Okay, wait. Hold on. Do you remember disappearing for two days?”

“I know that. And I know I was just about to say something about Malphas, but then it completely left me.” Keqing felt a sharp pain in her head as she tried to contemplate the matter further. “I don’t know what he did to me. I know you were searching for me, and so was Ganyu.”

Ai’s brows furrowed. “We have to go back to Celestia so they can investigate this. I’m just glad that you’re safe now.”

“I haven’t finished fulfilling my punishment here,” Keqing reminded her. “I don’t know if they’ll let me come. If I can just get in touch with Ipos, we can let her know.”

Ai nodded. “Let’s try that. He isn’t getting away with this.”

Her access to communicating with the gods in Celestia was limited while she was sent to the mortal realm for her punishment. But Keqing remembered Ipos once sending her a text to her phone. She opened her text message history, and she didn’t have to scroll much at all to see Ipos’ text. It was from the time Keqing had gone to see Ganyu, all out of fear after that selfish fool had tried to steal her wallet. Ipos’ last text to her was the one that read: Was that really necessary?

This time, it was Keqing who texted her: Are you aware of what Malphas did to me when I disappeared for two days?

Ipos’ reply was instant: I’m not sure what you’re referring to. You didn’t disappear for two days. You were in your apartment working as usual.

Keqing stared at her phone for a few seconds, then she looked at Ai. “Whatever Malphas did, he managed to even deceive Ipos.”

“He’s not getting away with this.” There was a flash of anger across Ai’s face. “Let’s call her. Whatever he did to deceive her, it can’t possibly be powerful enough to hide it from the Elders.”

Keqing couldn’t find it in her to agree with Ai. She already had a bad feeling about the whole situation. Underestimating the God of Trickery wasn’t a smart idea.

But she called Ipos anyway. Ipos picked up after the first ring with, “What did Malphas do?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Keqing said, and she couldn’t help but hold back a laugh when she saw Ai’s tense expression. “Ai, you look like someone just died.”

“I’m so worried! And very upset.” Ai crossed her arms. “Whatever Malphas did, it didn’t work on me. I remember that you were gone for two whole days. He can’t fool me.”

“What exactly is the situation at hand?” Ipos asked.

Ai extended her hand. “I can explain it to her.”

Keqing tossed her the phone. Ai caught it promptly and brought it to her ear.

“Hi, it’s Ai.” Ai’s eyebrows drew closer together. “It all started two days ago. Keqing wasn’t in her room, and she wouldn’t answer her phone. I tried looking around the neighborhood for her, but she wasn’t anywhere. I ended up having to get Ganyu’s help.”

Keqing couldn’t hear what Ipos was saying back to her, but Ai seemed confident enough in the direction the conversation was going. She felt an immense amount of gratitude towards her dear friend. It was wonderful, this feeling of having someone to rely on. Someone to defend her and look out for her.

“Yes, Ganyu’s here with us right now. But I don’t see why that’s a problem,” Ai said, her tone starting to sound a little icy. “As I’m sure you’ve seen, they are not professing their love to each other and defying every Heavenly Principle to exist.”

Keqing hoped that Ganyu was still asleep for all of this. Ai’s voice wasn’t exactly so soft and quiet, so if she walked in for all of this, Keqing wasn’t sure what she’d say in response.

But, as always, she thought too soon. Ganyu pulled the door to the bedroom open at that moment, rubbing at her eyes with the long sleeves of her shirt. Her hair was ruffled, and there was even a small crease from the pillowcase on her cheek.

Keqing stared shamelessly. She wasn’t sure how someone could be so endearing.

“Good morning.” Ganyu sheepishly smiled, then looked between Ai and Keqing. “Am I interrupting something?”

Ai shook her head and walked towards another room, closing the door shut behind her.

“We’re just trying to figure out what exactly happened during my disappearance. I lost all memory of it.” Keqing’s gaze caught on a couple strands of hair that were sticking out from the top of Ganyu’s head. They were curved together in the shape of a heart. “It’s about to be more of a complicated situation.”

“Is there any way I can help?” Ganyu’s lips were pursed together in a small pout from her worry. “Do you know who might’ve been involved? Or has that also been forgotten?”

“Funny enough, I know who it was. I guess he didn’t quite do a great job fully covering his tracks.”

“What kind of fool dares to mess with a goddess?”

“Another god,” Keqing said, watching as Ganyu’s eyes widened. “But he’s still a fool. You’re correct.”

“Which god? I know I’m not as powerful as you are, but I could say something bad about him publicly.”

Keqing laughed. “Trash-talking a god, Ganyu? That’s really bold.”

Ganyu gave her a small smile. “For you? I believe I would. I’m sure I’d have enough influence to sway people’s thoughts on him.”

Keqing didn’t doubt it. She believed Ganyu’s words of scorn about Malphas would be enough for crowds of people to desecrate his shrines. She didn’t doubt Ganyu’s influence, not at all. But whatever Malphas’ issue was, she didn’t want to involve Ganyu in it.

“It’s the God of Trickery. But you don’t have to say anything,” Keqing said. “We should be able to get to the bottom of everything.”

“If I can be of assistance in any way, please let me know.” Ganyu still looked worried as she glanced around. “Are you safe here?”

“I should be. I don’t know what tricks he was pulling for me to disappear, but…” Keqing gave a shake of her head. “Don’t worry about me. Do you have to leave soon?”

“In a little while, I should.” Ganyu visibly hesitated before she added, “I’m going to worry about you. I know you’re capable of protecting yourself, but still.”

“I’ll let you know how I’m doing later today,” Keqing said, and her heart soared at Ganyu’s sweet concern. “It should be okay, though.”

“Would the God of Trickery cast some sort of delusion on me, do you think?” Ganyu asked. “To also forget that this happened?”

“I’m not so sure.” Keqing slightly winced at the thought. “I would hope not. But he seems to be quite unpredictable.”

Ganyu was deep in thought for a moment. “No matter what, I won’t forget about this. I went through a lot looking everywhere for you.”

“I’m sorry you were put through that.”

“Please don’t be,” Ganyu said. “I’m just relieved that you’re here now. And I’m going to keep hoping that you stay safe.”

Keqing couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s hold onto that hope.”

“I’ve heard stories of him,” Ganyu said. “How he can often pretend to be someone else to deceive his victims.”

“I suppose he has nothing better to do with his time.”

“It’s hard to understand why such a malevolent god can even exist.” Ganyu sighed. “But that’s beside the point. In case that ever happens to us, could we create some kind of code word?”

“Okay.” Keqing nodded. “That’s a good idea. What word should it be?”

“Perhaps not a word. It could be a phrase,” Ganyu said, tapping her chin with a finger.

“A phrase, maybe,” Keqing said. “Or it could be a question we ask each other, and we answer with something unpredictable. Something he wouldn’t be able to mimic.”

“That sounds difficult.” Ganyu hummed. “I believe I’d still be able to recognize you by your aura.”

“Then maybe we won’t need to go to that extent,” Keqing said. “But it could be a backup.”

“What question would we ask?”

“I don’t know. It could be something silly, like, ‘What is it that you want most right now?’” Keqing suggested.

“I’ll try to think of an unpredictable answer. Hopefully, you never have to hear it.” Ganyu smiled. “He better not dare to fool around with you again.”

“We can only hope.”

“I’ll be here every step of the way,” Ganyu said. She glanced down at her phone as it buzzed. “Xiao is coming to pick me up for a show I’m scheduled to film later.”

“That’s no problem.” Keqing nodded. “It was good to see you. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Ganyu lowered her phone back into the pocket of her pants. “Can I come by again to check on you? I don’t know if I can do it tonight, but maybe tomorrow?”

Keqing replied, “My door is always open for you.”

Ganyu smiled beautifully at that. It was enough to bring back Keqing all those memories from the past, as well. Seeing the smile even after all those years ago still sent a swirl of butterflies in her stomach.

These were memories from the past that she was still reluctant to open up to Ganyu about. But she’d just revealed her identity as a goddess to her, and she would give it some time. The Elders hadn’t imposed a time limit for her to tell Ganyu by a certain point.

This wasn’t like the past. They had the luxury of time now, with no lingering fear of mortality. But Keqing knew that she couldn’t hold it off for much longer. Ganyu deserved to know about the past they shared. She would wait for Ganyu to recover from the recent discovery of her goddess identity, but she knew the clock was ticking.

Chapter Text

By the time Ai got back from her call with Ipos, forty minutes had already flown by. Ganyu was quick to get ready before leaving in Xiao’s car. She didn’t have to face Xiao, which was for the best. Keqing spent the remaining time sitting on the couch, spacing out as she wondered just how exactly she’d bring up the past to Ganyu.

“Ipos said she’s going to investigate the situation and talk to the Higher Rulers,” Ai said. “She can’t locate Malphas at the moment, which is an issue because no god has ever been able to evade her before. He’s breaking all the rules, it seems.”

“Quite fitting for the God of Trickery.” Keqing sighed. “Who knows why the Elders let him run around for so long.”

“I don’t understand, either.” Ai mirrored her sigh as she tossed the phone back to Keqing.

Keqing caught it safely in her hands. “His power most likely stems from all the mortals praying to him for their own malicious reasons.”

“All this time, though, he was generally known for innocent pranks only.” Ai’s bright green eyes narrowed. “Whatever he did to you, he took away your memories. He probably did the same to all his other victims.”

“We’ll leave it to Ipos and the Elders to figure it out. That headache is theirs to handle,” Keqing replied, stretching her arms out. “For now, we’re safe here.”

“We are safe and sound.” Ai huffed. “I won’t let him away with that nonsense again.”

Keqing didn’t argue with her on that. “Let’s hope for the best.”

“Ipos also mentioned that the Divine Elders discussed your current form. They have allowed for you to maintain whichever form you prefer while you reside for the rest of your stay in the mortal realm.” Ai’s eyes were wide in interest as she continued, “I don’t know what made them decide that, but we won’t question it.”

“They probably have their own reasons. But it makes sense. Malphas depleted some of my energy. It’s easier to maintain my original mortal appearance.” Keqing lifted a few strands of her purple hair up.

“You’ll just have to be more wary in public now that people can recognize you. But are you feeling better now?” Ai asked, and Keqing nodded. “Where did Ganyu go?”

“She had to leave. Xiao picked her up for a show she had to film.”

“Ah.” Ai raised a brow. “Ipos tried to say something about the two of you being together in this apartment. I managed to shut that down really quick. There’s no Heavenly Principle violation there.”

Keqing suppressed a laugh. “You’ve become so confident, Ai. What happened?”

“Well.” Ai’s gaze shifted away. “Chuyu might have given me a long pep talk while you were away. She helped me a lot. I thought my system would shut down, honestly, over all the stress I experienced trying to find you again.”

“I’m glad she’s been by your side.” Keqing smiled. “And I’m happy you didn’t shut down. I would’ve brought you back regardless if it ever happened.”

Ai sighed happily, placing a hand over her chest. “I’m honored that you’d bring me back instead of programming a completely different entity.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else.” Keqing sat down on the couch, crossing her legs as she waved a hand in the air. A bubble appeared, floating in front of her. “Ipos said she hasn’t been able to locate Malphas? Let’s take a look.”

“If she can’t find him, I doubt we’d be able to.” Ai plopped down next to her.

“We can at least try.” Keqing watched as the bubble spun in place, but there was nothing that materialized inside of it. It remained empty. “Okay. Maybe not.”

“Wait.” Ai leaned forward as the bubble briefly showed a quick glimpse of a man, but it disappeared a second after. “Was that him just now?”

“That must’ve been. He wasn’t in his divine form, though. Whatever powers he’s using to hide from Celestia, it’s working against us too.” Keqing let out a small sigh as the bubble popped in front of them. “Let’s think about this.”

Ai nodded. “Yes. What shall we think about?”

“What would the God of Trickery want from the Goddess of Love?”

“He hadn’t ever reached out to you before this incident occurred. Do you think he wanted your help with a match?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. I’ve barely ever interacted with that man in the past.” Keqing sat up straight. “Wait. We can take a look at the recent match history.”

“That’s a fantastic idea.” Ai grinned. “My goddess is a true genius.”

“Let’s see.” Keqing sorted through the most recent matches in her head. There were countless matches she remembered finalizing with Ai, but there was one she didn’t recognize. It seemed Malphas’ tricks didn’t extend as far as her own match history. Or perhaps he hadn’t taken that into consideration.

This was a match between a lady named Linlang and Malphas himself. But she could already sense that the arrow she’d sent hadn’t been her classic one. It was the lead arrow, meant to create aversion in the heart of the lover she shot with the arrow.

The question now became why she had used that arrow. She was still here in the mortal realm carrying out the punishment of exchanging services with another god. And she’d done it again, playing matchmaker for a god. But she knew Malphas had to have deceived her in some way or forced her hand. The lead arrow meant that it had been intentional. She’d never had a use for that arrow before.

“He sought me out for a match,” Keqing said, and Ai scrunched up her nose. “I used the lead arrow.”

Ai’s eyes widened. “Oh. He won’t be happy. Nor will the Elders if they find out about this match.”

“I don’t know the circumstances around it, but…” Keqing sighed. “Let’s hope this doesn’t result in a longer banishment from Celestia for me. Working without Infinity System hasn’t exactly been ideal.”

“Can we search his match up in this bubble?” Ai asked. “Is there a possibility he’s lurking around her?”

“We can see.” Keqing watched as a bubble materialized in front of her, showing a woman eating alone in a restaurant. “She’s there alone.”

Ai pursed her lips. “This isn’t going to get us anywhere. We can’t sit here and watch the bubble all day.”

“We can’t. I’m also not going to find her in person just to see if he’s lurking around.” Keqing popped the bubble with her finger. “So it seems my disappearance was related to this match. Since I can’t remember what exactly happened, he was trying to cover his tracks.”

“We can let her know.”

“I’ll do it in a bit.” Keqing slightly cringed. “I’m not looking forward to seeing what they have to say about me making a match for a god.”

“We don’t know yet the details of what exactly happened. That’ll be up to them to decide.” Ai frowned. “But I think they’ll be more focused on Malphas’ wrongdoings.”

“He’ll be caught soon.”

“I can’t imagine a god being able to evade the Higher Rulers for long.” Ai then turned to her with a gleam in her eyes as she slightly leaned forward. “Okay. Now forget about all of this for a quick second. How did it go with Ganyu last night?”

Keqing sat back on the couch, giving herself some distance from A’s inquisitive gaze. “Um. Good?”

Ai didn’t seem satisfied with her answer. “Just good?”

“It was good to see her again. She finally knows about my identity, and she wasn’t scared away.” Keqing smiled faintly. “I don’t know why I was always afraid she’d turn her back on me if she ever found out who I was.”

“It’s a valid concern. But she’s not one to do that.” Ai nodded, as if satisfied by her answer. “Is she coming back later? I imagine she is.”

“She said she would.”

“Good.” Ai gave another nod in approval. “You should’ve seen how she reacted when I first told her about your disappearance. I actually regretted telling her in the beginning because she was in so much distress.”

“I can’t even imagine.” Keqing lowered her head. A memory rose up in her mind, the one she’d seen of the past where Ganyu had frantically run through a village in search of her. She clenched her fist at the thought. “She deserves better.”

“Well.” Ai made a noise of disagreement. “You’re quite literally a goddess. I don’t know what’s better than that.”

“A goddess who can’t love her.” Keqing gave her a look. “Let’s not forget.”

“We’ll get there. We need to focus on small goals for now.” Ai had a fierce gleam in her eyes. “We’ll make it happen. I’m not letting you spend the rest of eternity alone.”

Keqing opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. She blinked a few times and said, “I’m not alone. I have you.”

“As much as I’m delighted to hear that, now is not the time to act oblivious.”

“Okay, okay.” Keqing stood up from the couch and stretched her arms. “I think Venti was supposed to be submitting the list of grievances to the Elders sometime soon. He should be reaching out to me with any updates.”

Ai grinned. “Do you know how long the list is?”

“No, I don’t.” Keqing paused. “I should ask.”

“It’s probably some outrageous number,” Ai said. “I submitted at least twenty.”

“You did what?”

“I submitted twenty long complaints.” Ai beamed, looking quite proud of herself. “He asked me for my input too. He’s a good god, even taking into account what a lowly assistant like me would think.”

Keqing gave her a look. “You’re not a lowly assistant. You’re more than that. What did you say in those complaints?”

“I had a lot to critique about all of their outdated rules. Being around for so long, we’ve seen it all. Of course, I mentioned you shouldn’t be forbidden from loving another.” Ai grew serious. “And then I may have gone a little too far delving into other matters. There’s a lot that needs to be fixed. But that’s beside the point.”

Keqing couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m always amazed by your dedication.”

Ai beamed. “That’s what I’m here for.”

➵ ✩

The rest of the day felt empty without Ganyu by her side. She’d gone so long without Ganyu’s presence, and now that they’d been reunited briefly, it was as if her brain couldn’t adjust to her absence again. Her thoughts easily drifted off to Ganyu, no matter what she was doing.

Even as she was calling Ipos later that evening, she couldn’t help but wonder if Ganyu would be knocking on her door any second. She couldn’t help but be hopeful that Ganyu would return as she said. She knew Ganyu had a busy schedule, but she hoped the famous actress would still make some time for her.

“I’ll look into the records about this,” Ipos said, breaking her out of her thoughts. “To my knowledge, Malphas never had a relationship with a mortal in the past.”

“I’ve never heard of anything, either,” Keqing said. “But that match that I made for him…”

The rest of the words dried up in her mouth. She couldn’t try to finish the sentence. There was a part of her that wanted to ask just how terrible the consequences would be for her, but she held back the urge.

“Knowing you, I am sure there was a valid reason behind it,” Ipos said. “I doubt you would’ve dared to defy the Heavenly Principles once more while carrying out your punishments in the mortal realm currently.”

“I know you’ve seen me make foolish decisions in the past, but you can trust me on this. Your instincts are probably right.”

“I have tried looking into the past few days for you, but no matter what, the logs all show that you were in your apartment working on matches. At some point, you suddenly shift to your true form. The Divine Elders have already found that there is a strange nature to the logs. But they have not been able to discover the true events.”

Keqing made a face, although Ipos couldn’t directly see her. “I didn’t know his tricks were so powerful to even deceive the Higher Rulers.”

“They’re very displeased, to say the least. We’ve issued an alert all across Celestia for gods to be on the lookout for him,” Ipos said. “He shouldn’t be able to evade us for long. The Divine Elders are honing down on him.”

Keqing wasn’t sure she wanted to know how the Elders were working to locate Malphas. She could already imagine their anger—a calm, quiet kind of anger. She still recalled the eeriness of those three black orbs. Malphas had a storm brewing for him, and she was just grateful that it wasn’t coming towards her.

“Can I suggest trying something to lure him out?” Keqing asked.

Ipos was silent for a few seconds. Keqing thought she’d hung up until she finally spoke, “Why do I already feel like this is going to be a bad idea?”

Keqing’s mouth slightly fell open. “That just sounded like something that Ai would say to me.”

Ipos only responded in a matter-of-fact voice, “I am just speaking the truth. But what is this idea of yours?”

Keqing leaned back in her chair, spinning around once until she was staring at the night view of the city through her window. “You know what, I’m not sure I want to share it now. You’re right. It’s probably a bad idea.”

“If you insist.”

Keqing hesitated before saying, “But you know, if you’re willing to listen to this idea of mine, I’m willing to say it.”

Ipos nonchalantly repeated, “If you insist.”

Keqing took that as a sign to speak her mind. At least it wasn’t a flat-out ‘no.’ “So, I imagine Malphas is probably confused right now about Linlang not reciprocating his feelings, even after I matched the two of them.”

“He may even retaliate,” Ipos said. “He could be plotting something.”

“Possibly.” Keqing wasn’t too worried about what he might have up his sleeves. “Now, imagine he sees me with Ganyu.”

“I’m sure everyone has seen you two together. You two weren’t exactly being subtle.”

Keqing felt her face start to heat up. “Right. But that was then. This is now, when he’ll probably be more enraged by it. His match failed, and he sees me being all lovey-dovey with Ganyu. That’ll lure him out. I have a feeling.”

Ipos slowly asked, “Lovey-dovey with Ganyu? Am I hearing that right?”

“We wouldn’t mean it, of course,” Keqing said, knowing the words were a lie right as they flew out of her mouth. “We could be seen together, doing something simple! Like just holding hands.”

“Just holding hands,” Ipos said, not sounding convinced at all.

“I somehow think that might be enough to aggravate him.”

“You two would end up on the headlines once again.”

Keqing thought back to all those headlines in the past. She hadn’t made the news recently—at least, according to Ai. Ai said there were a few articles scattered here and there, one that would appear every once in a while speculating about what Keqing was doing during the recent lack of her public appearances. But mortal attention was quick to shift onto other celebrity gossip.

As she ran a hand through her hair, Keqing continued, “I know. I could ask Ganyu if she would be okay with it. But this is a risk I’m willing to take. Wouldn’t it make it easy for you, as well?”

Ipos let out a small laugh, one that sounded a little unconvinced. “It would expedite the process for sure, but that is assuming he even takes the bait. This is the God of Trickery.”

“It is. But if he was desperate enough to come to me for a match, I imagine his desperation would be enough to turn into rage. Rage clouds one’s judgment, and I wouldn’t put that past him,” Keqing said, and even as she was trying to persuade Ipos, she was surprised by her own drive to make her idea see the light of day. “I’d say it might be worth a shot.”

Ipos gave out a little sigh before asking, “You said you’ll do it tonight?”

There was a strong sense of determination within her. She gave a nod to herself. “That’s the goal. Tonight.”

“Please do not go overboard. Remember that I will have my eyes on you two.”

Keqing slightly huffed. “I would never.”

“It is time you told her the truth, Keqing. You cannot keep running from that part of your punishment that the Divine Elders have set out for you.”

Keqing slightly stiffened at the reminder. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“I’d recommend for you to do it as soon as possible before the Divine Elders seek out another punishment for you.”

“I understand, Ipos. I will do it.”

Keqing wasn’t sure she wanted to see what “another punishment” would entail for her. But for now, she had to focus on the matter at hand: the Lovey-Dovey Mission.

➵ ✩

Ganyu showed up in the evening, right at eight o’ clock. She showed up with a small knock on the door that had Keqing bolting up from her seat in the living room. It won an amused look from Ai, which Keqing ignored as she yanked the door open.

“Hi,” Ganyu greeted her, giving a small wave. “I’m sorry. I hope I’m not too late.”

“You’re not late at all,” Keqing said, and she watched as Ganyu took a few deep breaths. “Did you run over here?”

“Possibly. I didn’t want to keep a goddess waiting longer than she should,” Ganyu said, a slight smile on her face. “I also wanted to see you as soon as I could.”

Keqing was taken back for a second by her honesty. She blinked, taking the information in slowly, then asked, “Did you miss me that much?”

“Perhaps.” Ganyu gave a little shrug in response. “I might’ve missed seeing your aura.”

Keqing paused. She knew she couldn’t be too affected by her own excitement over seeing Ganyu. She doubted this was Malphas pretending to be Ganyu, but still, she recalled the question they’d decided upon to ask each other. And so, as a result of not knowing how to respond to Ganyu’s confessions about missing her, she said, “Can I ask you something?”

Ganyu raised her brows. “Sure. Anything.”

“What is it that you want most right now?” Keqing asked.

Ganyu would have to respond with something that would be unexpected, an answer that would be hard to ever mimic.

“For penguins to fall from the sky right this very moment,” Ganyu answered. “You?”

“To have dinner with those penguins,” Keqing said, and she heard a snort in the background. She didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Ai. “I have another question for you.”

“Go ahead. I have one for you too.”

Keqing braced herself to ask the question. To ask about her plans for the night to lure Malphas out. But there was a sense of shyness within her. “You can go first.”

“Can I come in?” Ganyu asked, rubbing a hand over her bare arms that were exposed from her black short-sleeved shirt. “It’s a little chilly.”

“Of course.” Keqing stepped to the side. “I’m sorry. I’m still learning the mortal ways.”

“Hey, Ganyu,” Ai called out. “Long time no see.”

“Hi, Ai! It’s great to see you,” Ganyu said to her, then looked at Keqing with an amused expression. “The mortal ways?”

“I’ve got a lot to learn about being a friendly host.” Keqing closed the door behind Ganyu and started walking towards the living room. “So…”

“What is it you wanted to ask?”

Keqing gestured for her to sit on the couch. “Make yourself comfortable first.”

Ganyu plopped herself down and smiled. “Okay. Thank you.”

Keqing sat down next to her, and she turned to Ai. “Can you go in your room for a second?”

Ai already knew about the plan, even laughing in her face when she heard about it at first. But she’d laughed even harder when Keqing told her that Ipos had agreed to it.

“Let me know when you’re ready to go.” Ai gave her a small salute before walking off towards the hall.

“Is everything okay?” Ganyu asked. “Are we about to share some top-secret information?”

“I wish it was that exciting.” Keqing’s gaze fell upon Ganyu’s black shoes. Suddenly they were the most interesting objects in the room. She couldn’t muster up the strength to look at Ganyu as she made her request.

It was just her as the Goddess of Love being as helpless as always. At least Ai wasn’t here to mock her.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Ganyu said.

“Okay.” Keqing took a moment to silently give herself a pep talk before she looked at Ganyu directly. “So. I have a plan.”

Ganyu nodded encouragingly. “What’s this plan about?”

“About the God of Trickery. I’ve been working with someone from Celestia to help locate him,” Keqing said, and her gaze accidentally caught on Ganyu’s lips. She momentarily lost her train of thought, but she got herself back on track and continued, “This plan involves us.”

“I’m willing to do it, whatever you need me to do,” said Ganyu, with no hesitation. “Anything to have him caught and face his consequences for messing with you.”

Ganyu’s fierce loyalty never failed to amaze her. It was endearing, but her blind willingness created a sense of worry within her.

“You know, you shouldn’t agree so easily to ideas without hearing them first.”

Ganyu looked thoughtful for a moment. “For some people, that would apply. But not for you.”

“Is it because of who I am?” Keqing asked, thinking once more of her divinity having already been revealed.

“Yes, but you as Keqing. Not as my goddess,” Ganyu said. “Of course, if you were to order me as Ferthur, I wouldn’t object either.”

Keqing stared at her. Her mind caught on to Ganyu calling her “my goddess,” and she even felt giddiness in her chest. She’d heard countless mortals refer to her in that way in the past, and yet, hearing Ganyu say it made it sound so new. As if she was being reminded for the first time that she was, in fact, a goddess. A goddess that may have existed for one person only.

“This is me asking as Keqing, and not Ferthur.” Keqing fiddled with her fingers as she said, “I believe Malphas sought me out for a match he wanted. A match that I may have sabotaged.”

Ganyu paused. “Am I allowed to hear this?”

“Probably not. But you need to know so that what I’m going to say next makes sense,” Keqing said. “I was thinking that the two of us could be seen out and about together to lure him out. He’s probably already figured out that the match didn’t go as planned, so perhaps we’ll anger him and cause him to show himself.”

Ganyu hummed. “But would him seeing us together cause that strong of a response?”

“If we were holding hands, maybe?”

Ganyu looked pensive. “Possibly. But would that be enough?”

“If it doesn’t work, that’s okay. It’s worth a try,” Keqing replied. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

There was no response from Ganyu for a few seconds. She finally shook her head. “No, we’ll see how it goes. I hope it will be enough.”

“My only worry would be that we’d have to deal with ending up on the news,” Keqing said, and Ganyu laughed. “What? It’s true.”

“Oh, that’s the least of my worries,” Ganyu said, waving a hand in the air. “Trust me. Their gossip will come and go like it always does. I don’t pay it any mind. You’re far more important.”

“I…” Keqing faltered. “I appreciate it. But your reputation is also important to me. While I don’t permanently reside here, you do.”

“And I appreciate your concern too. But I will have my ways of dealing with any talk that may arise. I will gladly do this for you.” Ganyu smiled. “Did you want to do it tonight?”

“Yes. There’s someone from Celestia who will be observing us. They’ll catch Malphas if he arrives.”

“But do you think you’ll be okay?” Ganyu asked with concern in her eyes. “He already caused you to disappear once. Would he try something again?”

“There’s always the possibility. This could very well be risky. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Keqing said. “I’ve already planned out the measures to keep us safe.”

It was the only reason why she was proceeding with this plan. She didn’t want Ganyu to ever be in danger throughout all of this. She’d worked out the details with Ipos earlier. Ipos had mentioned that she’d worked with the Elders to find a method to dispel any of the delusions that would be created with Malphas’ divine energy. Ipos had described it to be like casting a small field of protection over the area where Ganyu and Keqing would be to prevent any delusions from affecting them.

Ganyu asked, “Where will we go?”

“There’s a park that the woman he loves frequently visits. Ai was looking into it and she found that he would often go see her there every Friday evening. She usually takes a walk after reading a book on a bench,” Keqing said. “It might be easier to catch his attention if he’s already keeping his eye on her there.”

“Okay.” Ganyu nodded. “Let’s do this. I might need to get a warmer top, though. The evening air might have a breeze to it.”

“I can give you something to wear,” Keqing said, and her brain quickly came up with an idea. “I have light jackets that match. It’s something small that could tick him off even more.”

Ganyu laughed. “Sure. Why not?”

“It’s going to be absolutely ridiculous, though. Ai bought them for me long ago as a joke.”

“I’m sure it won’t look too bad.”

Keqing forced a smile. “You’d be surprised.”

➵ ✩

Ganyu did end up, in fact, getting surprised by the matching jackets. She stared at it wordlessly for a few seconds, and then she let out a small laugh. But she didn’t back out of it.

She only said, “I doubt you have to worry about any rumors. I don’t know if people will take us seriously.”

They were both wearing white jackets with small scattered pink hearts on them. Both had words on the back that read, “Match made in Celestia!”

Keqing regretted this choice three different times.

The first was when Ai saw them wearing the jackets. Ai hadn’t been able to make eye contact with Keqing for a good solid five minutes, and it was clearly because she was holding back the urge to laugh. Her lips were tightly pursed in the way they always were when she was trying not to burst out into her loud laughter.

Then, she regretted it once more when Ganyu called upon Xiao to drop them off at the park. Keqing had almost wanted to turn around and go back into the apartment, calling it a night right then and there. But Xiao hadn’t said a word to Keqing. When he caught sight of their jackets, all he’d done was narrow his eyes, but he hadn’t questioned anything.

Xiao had been eerily quiet the entire ride to the park. Ganyu was the one to fill up the silence in the car, although she hadn’t given him any details about what they would be doing at the park. He hadn’t pried for information either, which Keqing thought was strange. But she wasn’t going to push it. Having to deal with his not-so-subtle judgmental glances through the rearview mirror had been enough.

And, finally, she regretted it again when she stepped foot into the park. It wasn’t that they were faced with immediate judgment—there was no crowd. There weren’t many people around, only a few standing here and there. But when she and Ganyu passed by a bench, Keqing spared the person sitting on it a small glance. She had to do a double take after seeing a pair of green eyes staring back at her.

Venti. He winked and waved at her before standing up and walking off in the opposite direction. He was dressed strangely for the weather, too, the bottom half of his face covered with a thick scarf. He was dressed for a chilly winter evening rather than a breezy summer night.

Keqing stopped in her tracks, turning around to look at him. But the small god had completely disappeared into thin air. She was already dreading having to face him next time, only because she had a feeling she’d hear his endless teasing about the jackets for the rest of eternity.

Perhaps she hadn’t put more thought into this decision. They were silly matching jackets that the mortals wouldn’t take too seriously to begin with, given how tacky they were, but she hadn’t put much thought into what the other gods would think. She had to remind herself that her own reputation wasn’t as important as finding Malphas.

“Is something wrong?” Ganyu asked.

“No, no, it’s fine. I thought I saw something strange. I guess it was a bug flying by.” Keqing turned back to her and gulped. Her gaze drifted to Ganyu’s hand. “So, now…”

Ganyu lifted her hand. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Keqing reached out slowly. As their fingers linked together, she felt a warmth easing into her chest. It felt so right, and yet, there was a thrill that went through her, from this act of holding the hand of someone she would otherwise not be allowed to. She wasn’t sure if she would be given the chance to hold her hand again. She’d treasure every second of this while she could.

“Ready.” Keqing led them past the street lamps that cast a bright light over them. “We could start walking around. I don’t imagine it’ll take too long.”

“How long are we waiting before we give up?”

“That’s quite a pessimistic way of looking at it,” Keqing said, glancing at her in amusement. “Let’s hope that we’ll be successful.”

Ganyu let out a soft laugh. “I know. But I also like to consider our backup plans.”

“I’d say we could wait for thirty minutes at most,” Keqing said. “As long as we see Linlang, I think he’ll see us soon after.”

“Is he really that obsessive? To be watching her constantly?”

“I’m willing to bet that he is. Especially after what I did,” Keqing replied, and she squinted at the figure of a woman far ahead of them. “I wonder if that’s her.”

The woman walked towards a bench, settling down with a book on her lap. With her face more exposed under the streetlamp, Keqing recognized her as Linlang.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Keqing stopped and tugged on Ganyu’s hand as she led them towards a small bench near a tall tree with long green leaves. “We can stop and wait here from a distance.”

“Alright.” Ganyu sat down next to her, swinging their hands between them. “I’m surprised she’s reading outside at this time of day.”

“It just seems to be a part of her regular routine.” Keqing glanced at their intertwined hands, and the brief flashbacks that crossed her mind of their hands being held long ago in the past. “I have a question.”

Ganyu hummed. “Ask away.”

“Do you like to read?” Keqing watched as Linlang flipped another page through her book in the span of a single minute alone. “I’m amazed by her dedication to read out here every week.”

“I do.” Ganyu laughed. “Do you?”

“Not particularly.” To Keqing, reading rarely caused excitement within her. The only time she’d been excited to read in recent years was when she’d been reading countless piles of information about Ganyu on the internet.

She had thoroughly enjoyed that kind of reading.

“I would’ve expected you to be an avid reader,” Ganyu said. “Like a reader of romance novels.”

Keqing wrinkled her nose. “Oh, those are the worst. I’ve tried to read a few in the past, but my mind starts to nitpick and play matchmaker for the main couple with other characters. Ruins the whole thing.”

Ganyu made a noise of understanding. “That’s reasonable. It takes away the fun.”

“Do you like reading romance?”

“Occasionally. If I’m playing a character for a movie or show that originated from a book, I’ll read it.” Ganyu looked a little sheepish as she added, “But when I read on my own personal time, I read a lot of nonfiction.”

“Historical nonfiction?”

“Yes. Especially the ones about ancient Liyue. Those take me back to the past,” said Ganyu. “I know you asked once if I’d read literature about the gods. I had a phase where I was really interested in Celestia years ago. I think I read nearly every book published concerning that whole topic.”

Keqing hesitated for a few seconds before she took a deep breath, mustering all her courage asking, “How much do you know about the laws of Celestia?”

“More than the average mortal. Especially since I worked alongside Rex Lapis for so long,” Ganyu said, giving a small squeeze to her hand. “I was doing a good job at trying to forget whose hand I was holding until this topic was brought up.”

“Forget I said anything, then.”

“I could never. It was my fault for bringing this up in the first place.” Ganyu softly laughed. “But why do you ask?”

“Have you heard of the Heavenly Principles?”

Ganyu didn’t reply instantly. She kept her gaze steady on Keqing, although there wasn’t any sign of emotion on her face that gave anything away. She responded a second later, “I have.”

Keqing felt her mouth dry a little from the bundle of nerves she felt over the direction this conversation was headed. She averted her gaze, focusing again on Linlang. She didn’t have it in her to press further. Not here, at least.

But she felt the heaviness in the air. The silence spoke volumes. She felt as if Ganyu knew what she was implying, what she wanted to ask. Unless she was the only one imagining the tension.

“He’s still not here,” Keqing said, abruptly shifting the topic. She was a coward through and through. “I wonder if Ai’s calculations were incorrect. She said he normally appears right at 8:30.”

“It’s 8:45,” Ganyu replied, briefly brushing a finger over Keqing’s knuckles.

Keqing lost her train of thought at Ganyu’s touch. She turned to Ganyu, who looked completely innocent, looking back at her with only a small supportive smile. Keqing had to avert her gaze once more, out of fear that if she maintained eye contact, she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to do something she shouldn’t do. Such as finding out once more what it was like to kiss Ganyu.

She blinked and brought herself out of her thoughts. Here she was fantasizing about what it’d be like to kiss Ganyu instead of focusing on the matter at hand.

“Of all days, he chose today to deviate from his usual pattern,” Keqing said, sighing as turned her attention to a couple at a far distance from them, pushing a child on a swing. “But I have faith.”

To Keqing’s relief, she and Ganyu weren’t attracting attention with the two of them sitting here. There were a few people jogging past them as they exercised, but none of them looked towards the bench. But even if there were no mortals blatantly gaping at them, Keqing knew they could be sneaky. It was how all those pictures of them seen together in the past had surfaced online.

She looked at Ganyu again, and at that jacket, and she held back a laugh. It had to be a talent, how Ganyu was able to still look so elegant in a shirt with its tacky hearts.

Ganyu raised a brow. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“There is,” Keqing said, nodding quickly. “You look good in that jacket.”

Ganyu’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “Why, thank you. The same goes for you.”

Keqing tried not to think too much about how good it felt to hold Ganyu’s hand again. She brought up random topics to discuss—the recent weather, books that she’d come across that seemed mildly interesting, and finally they focused on talking about Ganyu’s new show that she was filming in Qingce. It was a new comedy show centered around the life of a family adjusting after moving to a small town.

All throughout the discussion, Keqing was on edge expecting Malphas to appear, but there was no sign at all of him.

“It’s been fun filming it,” Ganyu said. “But I don’t think any experience will compare to the one I had filming with you.”

“It's a little unfair to compare your mortal co-stars to someone like me,” Keqing replied.

“That’s true. They could never compare.” Ganyu clucked her tongue. “But that was such an experience. Nothing will beat coming across a literal ghost on the set.”

“It was an experience for me, too, singing karaoke in front of everybody and ending up on the news for it.”

Ganyu laughed. “It was a moment I’ll cherish forever.”

Keqing felt a buzz in her pocket. She glanced at the screen to see that it was a phone call from Ai.

“Hi,” Keqing said, using her spare hand to bring the phone to her ear. “Is everything okay? We’re still waiting.”

“We have an update. Ipos caught him just now,” Ai replied. “Your work is done.”

“Wait. What are you saying? He never showed up here,” Keqing said, looking over at Linlang, who was still reading on her bench.

“He was in your vicinity and saw you both. She caught him right before he attempted to approach you. Ipos wouldn’t have let him get that close to you both. But if Ipos hadn’t cast that protection field to disable his powers, I’m not sure things would’ve ended well.”

Keqing felt a twinge of disappointment. Not over him being caught, but over how underwhelming the situation was. She’d somehow been imagining more of an intense interaction. But it made sense for Ipos to have the desire to protect them. The God of Trickery using his devices in such a public space wouldn’t exactly give the mortals a favorable impression of Celestia.

“So. That’s it?”

Ai laughed. “Were you expecting something grand? What you did with Ganyu worked to lure him out. Ipos said it angered him the right amount. He can’t win against her.”

“Is he back in Celestia now?”

“He’s probably facing the Elders as we speak,” Ai said. “Xiao’s already coming back to pick you both up. He’ll be there in a couple minutes. Here’s your warning that his mood hasn’t improved much at all.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to,” Keqing responded. Dealing with Xiao was the least of her concerns. “Thanks for the update. I’ll see you soon.”

“Is everything alright?” Ganyu asked.

“They caught him,” Keqing said, standing up from the bench. Her hand was still holding onto Ganyu, and she didn’t have it in her to let go. “Xiao’s coming back to get us.”

Ganyu’s eyes widened. “Did it work?”

“It did. They caught him before he could even appear right in front of us,” Keqing said, and she took one last glance at Linlang, with her head still buried in her book and blissfully unaware of it all. “May she live a good life.”

“I’m sure she will. She dodged a true bullet.”

“Thank you for agreeing to do this,” Keqing said, turning to Ganyu with a look of gratitude. “I apologize in advance, once again, for the commotion we may cause with all of the rumors.”

“As I said before, this was far more important.” Ganyu smiled, and she even gave her a thumbs-up. “I’m glad everything ended up working out.”

The sight of the thumbs-up brightened her mood. The thumbs-up that they’d done in the past. Keqing quickly returned the thumbs-up.

“Let’s not speak so soon,” Keqing said, watching as a black car drove up to the parking lot. She saw the window roll down, and Xiao’s grumpy face revealed itself. “We’ve got another battle to fight over there.”

“An easy battle, then,” Ganyu replied, and she started to walk towards the car.

Keqing followed after her. She didn’t have a choice, not when Ganyu was still holding her hand and leading her along.

Ganyu didn’t let go of her hand even after they got into the car. Even as Xiao made some snarky comments directed towards the whole situation that had occurred during the evening that Keqing just rightfully ignored, Ganyu didn’t let go.

But Keqing was filled with dread as the car headed over to her apartment. She would do it tonight. She would tell Ganyu of their past, fulfilling her punishment ordered by the Divine Elders. It was a promise she was making to herself, but also to Ganyu, to reveal everything.

It would be too unfair to keep her in the dark any longer. After everything Ganyu was willing to do for her, it was the least that Keqing could do. It was time to face the truth she’d been running from all this time.

➵ ✩

JUST IN: GANYU AND KEQING CAPTURED ON A STROLL WEARING MATCHING COUPLE JACKETS

Top star Ganyu was spotted at Pine Park tonight walking with her former co-star Keqing. The two previously filmed the movie “Live for Me,” which is scheduled to be released in three months. They made headlines earlier this year for their public appearances together — acquiring a couple name that the internet coined: Ganqing.

But Keqing’s disappearance from the public eye for a period of time caused many fans to question her whereabouts. It wasn’t until tonight when Keqing was spotted briefly for the first time today with Ganyu, the two of them holding hands as they wore matching jackets that boasted “Match made in Celestia!” Yes, you read that correctly. They were holding hands.

The jackets were an interesting choice, and some have been wondering if it’s all just a publicity stunt. Whether it is or not, one source also claimed Ganyu and Keqing have been happily dating since getting to know each other on the set of “Live for Me,” and they carefully chose today to show off their relationship to the public.

As expected, this raised many questions. We reached out to both actresses’ representatives, with no responses received as of yet. The only reactions so far have been from the thousands of fans online. Countless fans had their own thoughts on the matter. See a few below:

Just a humble egg (@eggyolkishealthy):
I just spent the past five minutes on the bus talking to the stranger sitting next to me about these new pictures of Ganyu and Keqing. This stranger, who knows nothing about these two, saw those pictures and said they look very much in love. Dear stranger, thank you for confirming that I was not being delusional. Ganyu looked so happy tonight. So did Keqing. I wish these two the happiest, longest relationship!

GANQING REAL (@ganyusmiles_ismile):
Remember when I said if Ganyu and Keqing are really dating, you all owe me 100,000 Mora? Pay up. Here’s the link to my QuickMora account. But all jokes aside, I’m so happy for Ganyu. I am ready for all of the future pictures. These two are a power couple. ALSO, to user @ganyushusband who sent me death threats in the past, I hope you puke when you see the announcement of their engagement in the future.

Match made in Celestia (@inlovewithganyu):
they are indeed a match made in celestia. but is anyone else hurting a little over this? i know we’re all happy, but i can’t help but think about the fact that ganyu’s an immortal and keqing isn’t… i don’t want to be a party pooper but… :( sorry if i’m inactive for a few days i need to process this

LIVE FOR ME PROMO (@LIV3FORM3):
We got a few good pictures of Ganyu and Keqing on that park date, but did you all see that grainy video of them? It was sooo grainy but I swear I could still sense all the love and excitement dripping out of them… And yes, this is a Live for Me update account, but this kind of counts. Keep the updates coming!

Keqing’s #1 Supporter :) (@sweetkeqing):
I know some people are saying this is a PR stunt, which is highly doubtful, but either way, we won! I just want to know whose idea the jacket was. I can see Ganyu suggesting it and Keqing reluctantly agreeing. Because who can say no to Ganyu?

Stay tuned for more updates.

Chapter Text

“You’re really going to tell her everything?” Ai asked, setting two cups of warm tea on the small table in the living room. “I know this is my third time asking. I’m just trying to make sure that your mind’s really set on this.”

Keqing glanced at the hallway, where Ganyu had slipped away to use the bathroom. She tightened her grasp on the small box in her hand. “I have to. Ipos brought it up earlier today too. It’s not wise for me to keep pushing the Elders’ limits. I don’t want to find out what they would even do, either.”

“I’ll leave then to give you two some privacy.” Ai swept a strand of her white hair out of her eyes as she stood up. “But if you need me, call me. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Ai.” Keqing smiled tightly at her. “I’ll need all the luck I can get.”

Ai seemed hesitant. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No, it should be okay.”

“I think it’ll be okay too.” Ai gave her shoulder a small squeeze before turning around. “No matter what happens, it’s good that you’re finally getting it over with.”

Keqing watched as Ai started to walk towards the door. “I’ll let you know what happens when you can come back.”

“Thanks. I’ll just be settling some business with Chuyu,” Ai said, giving her a small wave as she pulled the door open. “Like I said, let me know if you need me.”

“Have fun.” Keqing waved back.

“Have fun,” Ai mimicked, replaying her exact voice back to her. Before Keqing could give her a look of exasperation, Ai shut the door behind her.

With a deep breath, she opened the small box. The three rings were neatly nestled in it, the gold glinting under the light. There was a ring that held Ganyu’s memories, another ring that contained her own memories, and the last was the promise ring she’d given to Ganyu.

Keqing straightened her back. This was going to be terrifying. She was coming to terms with the fact. Somehow, the idea of facing Ganyu with this truth was scarier than having to face the Divine Elders.

Actually, she took that back. She’d encountered plenty of uncomfortable and nerve-racking situations as a goddess, but nothing could beat the fear that came from interacting with the Divine Elders for the very first time.

“I really like the soap you have in there.”

Keqing’s head quickly turned up at the sound of Ganyu’s voice. Her hands moved in a flash to close the lid of the box on her lap. Ganyu was coming out of the hallway, sniffing her hands.

If Keqing hadn’t been so consumed by worry at that very moment, she would’ve laughed at the sight.

“It was a soap handpicked by Zhongli. He apparently has a whole collection that he’s been working on for centuries,” Keqing said. “He once tried telling me the history behind the specific soap that’s in there. Apparently, it’s traveled a long way from a famous soapmaker in Inazuma. Who knows when it was first made.”

“Ah. Makes sense. That’s fitting for him. Whatever he’s interested in, he’s always given it his all.” Ganyu stepped into the living room. “Where did Ai go?”

“She went to spend some time with Chuyu,” Keqing answered, and she forced a smile on her face as she patted the seat next to her. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Ganyu slowly lowered herself onto the couch. Her gaze flickered to the box. “Is everything alright?”

“It is.” Keqing fiddled with the box as her heart started to sink. “I don’t know how to phrase what I need to say next.”

Ganyu’s face turned serious, her brows furrowing. “Is there another god trying to mess with you? Because if so, I’ll do whatever it is you need me to.”

Keqing gave a shake of her head. “Thankfully, we won’t have to worry about dealing with another god.”

“Good.” Ganyu’s gaze was warm. Kind. As it always was. “You can tell me anything, whatever it is.”

“It’s about this.” Keqing slowly adjusted the box in her hands, pointing it towards Ganyu. She then held it out to her. “You can open it for yourself.”

Ganyu grasped the box, her gaze wary as slowly opened it. Her eyes widened, and her lips slightly parted. “My rings. Did Zhongli give them back to you?”

“He did.”

“I was pretty shocked when he was able to take them right off,” Ganyu said. “What’s the story with the rings?”

Keqing felt her muscles tense up, then she forced herself to relax. Or, at least, she tried to and failed. “From what you know, you told me you’ve had the rings since birth.”

“I did. But the fact that Zhongli was able to take them off was a signal to me that there was a deeper implication, one that involved some godly power.”

“It does,” Keqing said, taking a deep breath. “To be specific, it involves me.”

Ganyu glanced between the rings and back at her. “All of these rings?”

“All of them.”

“Are you okay?” Ganyu slightly leaned forward, her brows furrowing. “You don’t look too well.”

“I’m okay!” Keqing nervously laughed. Ganyu didn’t look convinced. “Really. I’m okay.”

“It’s been a stressful night. You should get some rest,” Ganyu said. “I can leave, Keqing. So that you can get some sleep.”

Keqing shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I promise. I’m wide awake.” She then laughed a little. “Ganyu, I just revealed to you something huge and you’re here worrying about me.”

“I’m right to be worrying about you more right now.”

“I appreciate your concern. I truly do.” Keqing smiled. “But I want you to focus on these rings for now.”

“Okay. Please don’t pass out on me.” Ganyu gave her a wary look before she picked one of the rings out of the box. It was the ring that held her memories.

Keqing watched carefully. Ipos had told her that the minute Ganyu put on the ring that contained her own memories, she would see them instantly. It was all to help fulfill Keqing’s punishment. The memories would be revealed just once, and only once.

It all meant that she needed to give Ganyu a proper warning before she put that ring on her finger. A warning that wasn’t going to fall off her tongue anytime soon if she didn’t work up the courage. It was ridiculous, really, that she’d been running from this for so long. That she was still running from all of it.

“Wait.” Keqing quickly reached out to stop Ganyu’s hand. “Before you put the ring on, I have to tell you the truth about everything. About us.”

“Us,” Ganyu repeated, the word rolling off her tongue slowly.

“Yes, us.” Keqing cleared her throat. “Before I became a goddess, when I was a mortal, we knew each other.”

Ganyu stared at her with a quizzical expression. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“That’s because your memories are in this ring,” Keqing said, letting go of her grasp on Ganyu’s hand. “When we knew each other in the past, we were…”

“Sworn enemies?” Ganyu asked, a slight teasing smile on her face.

With a shake of her head, Keqing said, “It’s quite the entire opposite.”

The smile on Ganyu’s face froze. “Then…”

“We were lovers,” Keqing said, and she was met with silence.

“Lovers,” Ganyu whispered with a look of complete disbelief.

“I know it must come as a shock,” Keqing said. “The proof is in the ring. Whenever you’re ready. If you ever are ready. We don’t have to rush it.”

“Why were the memories put into this ring?” Ganyu asked as she brushed the top of the ring with her finger.

“We faced a tragic ending. It was a decision that I made for your sake,” Keqing said, trying to calm the fear that was starting to rise in her chest. The fear of Ganyu’s judgment over this decision she’d made for the both of them. “I know this must be really hard to believe.”

“I believe you. I trust you.” Ganyu had a sincere look in her eyes. “As wild as it all sounds, I know it must be true. From the minute we first met, there was a sense of familiarity to you. I always thought it was a weird case of déjà vu.”

Keqing cracked a small smile at that. “Ah, yes, when I was doing a terrible job at trying to act like a mortal.”

“It wasn’t a terrible job.” Ganyu laughed softly. “It already saddens me to hear that we faced a tragic ending. But whatever the memories hold, I’m ready for them.”

“Are you sure?” Keqing looked at her in disbelief. “Ganyu, if I’m being honest, you’re reacting far better than I expected.”

“Keqing. If I’m being equally honest, if this had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed a single word. But I trust you. They were my memories once, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” Ganyu slightly turned the ring in between her fingers. “I know you’re trying to prepare me for the worst. I appreciate that. But I’m confident that I can handle it. I’d like to know about our past. I know what you’re saying is true, but I think my brain is still having a hard time believing it. I’ll need to see it for myself.”

Keqing nodded. “Then… Will you allow me to put it on? You’ll see the memories once the ring is on your finger again. You can see these memories only once.”

“Of course.” Ganyu softly dropped the ring onto her outstretched palm. “Did I personally pick which memories to save?”

“You did,” Keqing said, taking the ring into her hand. She kept her gaze trained right on the ring, as she was unable to look Ganyu in the eyes. She wasn’t sure how to. “Ready?”

“Keqing.”

She still had her eyes focused on the ring. “Ganyu.”

“Will you please look at me?”

Keqing remembered saying those exact words to Ganyu after revealing her identity as Ferthur. When Ganyu had been so hesitant to meet her gaze. Keqing finally looked at Ganyu, who held no judgment in her gentle eyes.

“I don’t know what happened, but I trust the decision you made. The past is the past.” Ganyu held out her hand. “I’m only getting more curious with every second that passes by.”

“I…” Keqing exhaled. “Okay. Are you ready?”

“Always.” Ganyu slightly wiggled her fingers at her. “I’m trying to stay calm and not think too hard about it.”

“You’re doing great.” Keqing slowly brought the ring closer to Ganyu’s hand. She didn’t know if it mattered which finger it was, but she figured the index finger was a safe bet.

Zhongli had been the one to activate the powers of the ring last time. Keqing didn’t really have a good idea of what was going to happen immediately after. But it probably wasn’t a good idea if Ganyu was sitting up straight for it.

“Wait. Can you lean back on the couch?” Keqing asked, and Ganyu did as she was told. “Okay. Good. I don’t want you falling forward.”

“Will I be asleep during it?”

“Yes.” Keqing slid the ring onto her finger, and she waited for Ganyu’s eyes to close. But they remained open, blinking right back at her. “Nothing?”

“No.”

“Okay. Let’s try the other finger.” She took the ring off and placed it on Ganyu’s third finger.

Ganyu shook her head. “I don’t think that’s the one, either.”

“That’s fine. Third time’s the charm, right?” Keqing went for the fourth finger this time, the ring finger.

In a split second, she felt herself falling head first onto Ganyu’s lap as her surroundings changed. Gone was the view she’d had a moment ago of the living room in her apartment. Now, she was standing in the middle of a bustling street full of different vendors. There were stands that sold books, jewelry, food, and clothing. There was loud laughter from children mixed in with the lively chatter of people from all around.

Keqing looked to her right. Ganyu was standing by her side, glancing around in awe.

She hadn’t expected to be swept into the memories with Ganyu. Nobody had mentioned this part. If the Divine Elders had specifically meant for this to happen, she could see why. Uncovering Ganyu’s memories was one thing, but to face it together with her simultaneously, it would make everything more difficult.

But there was nothing she could do about it now. In fact, it made the punishment slightly more twisted.

Keqing glanced down at her left hand, which was holding Ganyu’s hand with the ring on her finger. Perhaps their linked hands were what was connecting them throughout these memories.

“I never thought I’d see ancient Liyue again,” Ganyu said, her eyes bright as she looked around. “How do these memories work?”

“We can only observe what happens,” answered Keqing, and she pointed at a figure ahead of a blue-haired woman ordering from a vegetable stand. “There you are.”

Ganyu stepped forward. “How long ago was this?”

“About 2,700 years ago,” Keqing said, following after her. “I’m surprised your memories start here.”

She’d been expecting the memories to start from the moment Ganyu had appeared at the kitchen to offer her help with all of the food distribution for the war.

“2,700 years,” Ganyu repeated. “So it was still before the Archon War ended.”

Keqing watched as Ganyu’s younger self bought a small bag of radishes. The half-adeptus’ attention was soon caught by another customer who’d appeared by her side, carrying about five large bags on her back.

It was Keqing. She watched as her past self was hunched over from the weight of the bags, and yet she bought another bag full of carrots from the elderly woman selling those freshly picked vegetables.

“Would you like assistance?” Ganyu’s younger self asked.

With one big bag covering the right side of her head, Keqing assumed her younger self’s vision was completely obscured, making it unable to even perceive Ganyu. Keqing, like the fool that she was, denied the help and quickly took off after adding a sixth bag to her load. While running off, she somehow managed to skillfully dodge all of the other guests who would’ve otherwise hit their heads on the bags.

“She never accepts any help,” the elderly woman said, her eyes wrinkling as she smiled. “Always running around with places to be.”

“I’m sure she could feed the whole town with all of those bags,” said Ganyu’s younger self.

“She does,” the woman answered. “She works for the main village kitchen, one of the biggest in the area. They cook hundreds of meals every day and offer them to those in need.”

The memory quickly then faded into the next, where now it was the moment where Ganyu first met Keqing inside the kitchen. It was the same awkward encounter that Keqing remembered seeing in the past, where the two were getting to know each other as Keqing brought up offering balm for Ganyu’s hands.

Ganyu seemed deeply invested in the interaction. She was completely focused, not saying a word. Keqing couldn’t help but remember that when she’d seen this memory the last time, she’d been the one deeply missing Ganyu. And now she was here again, with Ganyu, holding her hand.

She wondered what would happen after the memories came to an end. She was still dreading how Ganyu would react to it all, along with what those in Celestia might be planning. Would Ipos intervene in some way after everything was said and done?

“All these years have passed, and somehow, you haven’t changed that much,” Ganyu said, amusement in her eyes as she turned to look at her.

“That’s not very reassuring,” Keqing replied, scrunching up her nose. “I’m an awkward mess in these memories.”

“But it’s charming in its own way,” Ganyu said, and there was a sincere smile on her face.

Keqing willed herself to stay strong after seeing that smile. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Ganyu smile at her. But even still, it was such a pretty smile. She shook herself out of it and asked, “You’re calling that charming?”

“I don’t think I would’ve fallen for you if you weren’t.”

Keqing was grateful the memory changed at that point to the next, serving as a distraction. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Not when she was feeling her face start to warm up over the fact that Ganyu was admitting to falling for her.

She was hopeless, really. Despite knowing about their past and seeing all of their memories, having Ganyu directly confirm these feelings of their past just served as another reality check. As if now was the time for the truth to finally get through her thick skull, once and for all.

“I taught you how to use the bow,” Ganyu murmured to herself, seeing the next memory of them practicing archery together out on the field.

“Thank you for doing so,” Keqing said, watching herself beam excitedly after shooting an arrow that finally landed on the target board. The arrow wasn’t even close to the bullseye mark, but it was the first time it was even landing on the board. “I was lucky to be taught by such a legend.”

“A legend teaching another unbeatable legend,” Ganyu corrected. “I didn’t know I was teaching the future Goddess of Love.”

“It’s a shame that they didn’t mention that in the history books.” Keqing clucked her tongue. “You would’ve gotten even more recognition. Another bullet point added to your long list of achievements.”

Ganyu laughed. “I actually like that this fact isn’t known by the whole world. This knowledge is only ours to keep.”

The memory of the archery lessons came with an ache in her heart as Keqing recalled how her death had also involved taking an arrow to her chest. With that thought, she felt a sudden, sharp pain shoot throughout her head. Keqing flinched, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Ganyu asked, her eyes searching her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Keqing nodded. “Don’t worry.”

“If there’s a way for you to stop these memories, please do so if you aren’t feeling well.”

Keqing knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. She didn’t know how to stop the memories to begin with, but even if she did, she wasn’t going to. Only because she knew that she wouldn't be able to ever sit down with Ganyu again just to go through the memories. Working up all the courage within her to do it once had been enough of a battle on its own.

“I’ll let you know if we come to that point. But it’s okay.” Keqing squeezed her hand. She then pointed to their former selves. “How would you rate your teaching skills?”

“Not bad. The technique I’m showing you here is one that I found ways to improve on later on,” Ganyu said. “It’s quite a shame that you had to learn from me when I was still very much a rookie.”

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve always been so capable.”

The memories quickly lapsed into the next. There were many moments the two of them had shared that Keqing had never seen. Silly moments in the kitchen where Ganyu accidentally burnt vegetable stew while getting lost in conversation with Keqing, and another where Ganyu tasted a bowl of noodles that Keqing had made and did a terrible job at hiding her distaste. Ganyu scrunched up her nose, then put on a big smile simultaneously, which ended up creating quite the sight.

Ganyu let all her emotions be known, despite not saying a word. She laughed, she gasped, and she cried. Keqing didn’t realize Ganyu was crying until she heard a faint sniffle. It was during a memory where the two of them were basking under the sun, their heads leaning into each other.

Keqing turned to her, and Ganyu looked away. She tugged on her hand. “Ganyu.”

“Sorry,” Ganyu said, her face still facing away as she softly laughed. “I didn’t expect to cry.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Keqing gave her a gentle, supportive nudge with her shoulder. “This is a lot of information to dump all at once on you.”

Ganyu nodded, wiping at a tear that slid down her cheek. “I guess it’s just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Keqing said quietly.

“I always thought that there might be something wrong with me,” Ganyu said. “Being alone for so long. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with being alone, but my mind would get the best of me.”

“That’s a valid fear. You’re not alone in thinking that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard people say that to you a countless number of times.” Ganyu slightly raised their intertwined fingers in the air between them. “It’s just relieving to know that I had the chance to experience a loving relationship for myself too.”

Keqing had nearly forgotten they were still holding hands. She’d gotten so used to holding it that her mind had stopped registering it. The two hadn’t tried letting go, or even brought it up. It was as if there was an unspoken understanding between them, that if their hands were to be apart, the memories may cease. Or, she had a feeling that they both didn’t let go for a much simpler reason, one that the desires of their hearts aligned on.

“I’m sorry you had to go such a long time thinking that there was something wrong with you.” Keqing felt a twinge in her heart. “You’ve always been so deserving of love. It’s why you’ve always been surrounded by such affection through all of your years.”

“Thank you.” Ganyu squeezed her hand.

Before Keqing could respond, her attention was taken away as her younger self suddenly stood up. She brought her hands upwards, cupping her mouth as she yelled out, “Xiao, you better apologize to Ganyu!”

Ganyu’s younger self laughed as she pulled Keqing back down. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t need his apology.”

“He shouldn’t have said that to you, though.”

“He was just being honest in his own way. That’s how he is.”

“You didn’t have to hear that, though.” Keqing huffed as she jutted her chin out. “There was no need for him to imply that you’ve been wasting your time away helping us. It’s not your fault that this has been a slow period in the war.”

“I understand where he’s coming from. But I really haven’t taken his words to heart.” Ganyu’s younger self smiled warmly. “I don’t consider this time wasted, not in the slightest. In fact, it’s been one of the most precious moments of my life thus far.”

“Xiao was always causing trouble with his brutal honesty, wasn’t he?” Keqing asked, suppressing a laugh. “I don’t know how you’ve dealt with him after all of this time.”

“I know he comes off a little cold, but he’s got a warm heart.”

“Just a little?” Keqing asked, and Ganyu gave a purehearted nod. “But I’m honestly glad you’ve had him by your side. Despite how annoying he can be, I know he must have good intentions.”

Keqing was surprised after hearing the words this version of herself was saying. Zhongli would’ve been proud to hear her not completely insulting Xiao. In fact, Ai would’ve been just as proud.

The good memories continued to play out in front of them. The tone shifted when the memory she’d been partially waiting for (to see Ganyu’s reaction) finally had its turn: the moment where Ganyu had rejected Keqing due to her mortality. Ganyu didn’t say a word for a good minute. When Keqing sneakily took a glance out of the corner of her eyes, she saw that Ganyu looked absolutely mortified.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Ganyu finally said, sighing loudly. “I was a complete fool.”

“You were doing what you thought was best for you. I really don’t blame you.”

Ganyu looked at her in amusement. “You know, you don’t always have to side with me. It’s okay to tell me I messed up and made a terrible decision. I’m not perfect.”

Keqing raised a brow. “I’m not taking your side blindly. I see good reasoning in all of your actions.”

“No bias whatsoever, right?”

“Maybe just a little.”

Ganyu sighed again as she watched their past selves saying goodnight and leaving each other after the unfortunate interaction. “I don’t know if I ever apologized for rejecting you like that. I’m truly sorry for my stubbornness.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” A small laugh escaped Keqing’s lips. “We were both young. We must stumble and make an endless amount of mistakes to learn.”

“But, still.” The frustration was evident in Ganyu’s voice.

“It’s fine, Ganyu. Really. Our story doesn’t stop here,” said Keqing, and she gestured around them as the scenery changed. She recognized the dark village, the chaos and frantic chatter. It was the night Ganyu thought she’d lost Keqing to an attack on the village.

The two of them ran to keep up with Ganyu’s past self racing past the campsite toward a hill. It hurt to have to see Ganyu so distraught again. But it was also completely worth it in every way to see their past selves reunite.

Memory after memory, Keqing almost felt as if she were seeing them for the first time again. Some of them were completely new, but they all sent the same warm feeling through her heart each time. When it came to the memory of their first kiss, Keqing didn’t quite know how to react with Ganyu right beside her.

It seemed that Ganyu didn’t, either. She only cleared her throat awkwardly.

Keqing broke the silence with, “So, I guess my first kiss wasn’t the on-screen kiss after all.”

“The same applies to me,” Ganyu said, and her voice lowered as she continued, “Despite the fact that I’m still in awe over everything that’s being shown to us, I’m really glad it was you.”

Keqing felt her mind go blank at that. She didn’t know what to say. All she could feel was the sensation of her cheeks starting to feel warm. A beat of silence passed before she mustered up the response, “I’m glad it was you too.”

➵ ✩

“We’re missing a ring, are we not?” Ganyu asked, turning to her after the memory of the two of them exchanging rings. “Do you still happen to have your promise ring?”

“I don’t. I was hoping that your memories might show where it went. Mine didn’t show anything.”

“Oh.” Ganyu frowned. “No chance it was thrown off Celestia or anything out of rage after a really bad day of matchmaking?”

It took her a second to realize Ganyu was teasing her. The corners of Keqing’s lips quirked up. “That may have occurred on the day I was fed up with none of your matches succeeding.”

Ganyu made a noise of understanding. “Right. I can’t ever forget that I caused you so much of a headache. I wonder if it was because of the Qilin blood that runs through my veins.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve matched others who came from a Qilin heritage in the past, and there were never any issues.”

Ganyu turned to her with surprise etched on her features. “Really? Has the failed matchmaking ever happened before with anyone else?”

“No. You were the first. It’s quite the fitting achievement for someone special like yourself, breaking all records known to the world.”

“I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble.”

“It wasn’t your fault at all,” Keqing said, and she watched as their surroundings shifted to a small, cozy restaurant indoors as the two of them had a cup of tea. They were sitting side-by-side in the corner of the room, with a bamboo divider that hid them away from the rest of the customers.

“Are there reasons for why a match would fail?”

“I’ve come up with two,” Keqing answered. “It was either the fact that your heart was completely rejecting the arrows, or that my arrows were incorrectly programmed due to my own bias and subconscious feelings.”

“Could it have been both at play?” Ganyu asked, curiosity glimmering in her bright eyes. Her lips were slightly parted in surprise, and Keqing silently swore at herself for her lingering glance.

“It very well could have been,” Keqing said. She quickly looked away, directing her attention to their former selves in front of them.

This did not help. Not a single bit. It proved to be a mistake when she saw Keqing’s younger self sneaking kisses to Ganyu between their sips of tea. After receiving the kisses, Ganyu looked shy with a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“I have a strong feeling your fans would absolutely love to see you from the past like this,” Keqing said. “Seeing their favorite actress looking so lovey-dovey with someone.”

“I’m sure they would. Do you include yourself in that category?” Ganyu asked, and her pinky tapped a few times against the outer surface of Keqing’s hand.

Keqing turned her head to face her again. “I thought you already knew the answer to that.”

“True. But I wouldn’t mind hearing it come from your mouth again.”

Her mouth. Keqing bit her lower lip. She paused when she realized that Ganyu was staring right as she did so. All of the thoughts in her mind seemed to dissipate at that.

All but one. The one last remaining thought seemed to be screaming out how badly she wanted to kiss Ganyu. But she couldn’t. She knew that. The chances of the Elders, however, being able to perceive what was going on inside this altered reality were slim to none. Even still, she knew that it wasn’t the smartest idea. Feeding into her desires for the sake of a temporary high wasn’t the smartest decision.

But then again, she was never one to make smart decisions.

Keqing asked, “What is it that you want most right now?”

Ganyu turned her face to the side, and she only replied with, “Do I have to say it out loud?”

With a slight laugh as she observed the slight blush to Ganyu’s cheek that was still facing her, Keqing continued, “I’d only like to confirm we both want the same thing.”

“Then you may go first, Goddess.” Ganyu slightly bowed her head.

Keqing raised a brow. “Oh. So this is when you decide to remind us of my divinity?”

“I’m merely trying my best to not offend you in any way,” said Ganyu, her head still bowed.

Keqing knew Ganyu was teasing her a second ago with the Goddess talk, but she had a feeling there was still some truth hidden in those words. She knew Ganyu was cautious and careful not to overstep any boundaries. All of this meant that if she wanted to kiss her, she’d have to make the first move.

She’d done it before when she’d asked Ganyu to kiss her. That fact alone should’ve been enough proof that she was capable of doing it again. Somehow, she felt as if her mortal self had more confidence than she did right now, despite being the Goddess of Love and all.

Keqing placed her hand below Ganyu’s chin, lifting it and guiding her face until they were looking at each other. Keqing felt her heartbeat start to quicken as Ganyu’s gaze drifted down to her lips. She leaned in, her fingers letting go of Ganyu’s chin as their lips brushed against each other. It was faint, as if they were both testing the waters.

“You’ve never left my heart,” Keqing said quietly, and she closed the gap between them again with a kiss.

It was a crime to realize how she’d forgotten how soft Ganyu’s lips were against hers. How their lips fit perfectly between each other, how it all felt so right. As much as it was forbidden, with this simple act defying the Heavenly Principles, her mind wasn’t keen on listening to reason at this very moment. She couldn’t understand how something that felt so natural and destined could be so vehemently denied for her.

As they kissed, Keqing lost track of their surroundings. She wasn’t sure if they were still in the restaurant where her younger self had been sharing tea with Ganyu. All that mattered to her right now was the fact that she was kissing Ganyu.

With her left hand still tightly holding Ganyu’s hand, Keqing used her other hand to run her fingers through Ganyu’s hair. Ganyu’s arm softly wrapped around her waist, bringing their bodies closer. Keqing leaned in to her touch, holding Ganyu closer to her.

Ganyu slightly pulled back, pure concern in her eyes as she asked, “Will you not get in trouble?”

The interruption to the kiss made Keqing falter. She stared blankly at Ganyu, and then shook her head once her senses started to come back.

“No. Nobody knows about what’s going on here,” Keqing replied, gesturing around them. They were now outside, their younger selves sitting on a blanket as they watched a firework show. It brought her back to when she’d been watching fireworks with Ganyu not long ago at Luhua Museum. “We’re fine.”

Ganyu’s grasp on her hand tightened. “You asked me earlier if I’d heard of the Heavenly Principles. I know them quite well. I don’t want you to suffer any consequences.”

“Trust me when I say this,” Keqing said, holding both of Ganyu’s hands. “I won’t be in trouble for this. The Higher Rulers, who I’m sure you’ve heard of, can’t see what we do within these memories. I wouldn’t have kissed you if that hadn’t been the case. I would never risk your safety.”

“I hope you don’t do anything to risk your own safety, either.”

“I’ll try.” Keqing smiled, and she leaned in to press another kiss to Ganyu’s lips. And then she did it again, and again. Fireworks rang out over their heads, and everything felt so right. As they kissed, she heard faint instrumental music in the background. It didn’t take long to realize it was Lovers’ Oath playing.

It was all so perfect that she wished she could save and capture this moment to look back on one day. Because she had a feeling that while this was her first time kissing Ganyu since everything that had transpired, it could very well also be their last.

Chapter Text

If kissing Ganyu could be a job on its own that wasn’t forbidden, Keqing had the confidence that she could do it all the time, without any hesitation whatsoever. It had her wondering what life would’ve been like if the Heavenly Principles hadn’t kept her from freely experiencing love with Ganyu. Perhaps it was why the Divine Elders had created the Heavenly Principles in the first place, to create some sort of restriction that kept the gods from reaching a sense of true divine happiness.

These theories were all based off of Keqing’s speculations, as she knew there were most likely valid reasons for each of the Heavenly Principles. But, still, this way of thinking at least made her feel a little better. And that was what she needed right now to keep herself from spiraling into a hallway of darker thoughts.

The kisses with Ganyu were sweet, and slow, and long, and pure. They reminded her of the good in the world. Why people chose to love, generation after generation. Why they chose to love even after getting their hearts broken, why they chose to believe in love with each and every chance they got. Keqing was relearning it again, what it meant to love another. Though she knew it wasn’t the wisest idea, her heart was no good listener to the thoughts in her mind.

But the kisses, as amazing as they were, had to unfortunately come to an end. Keqing wished in that moment that she could’ve been lucky enough to be blessed with abilities to freeze time, locking them in this blissful moment for the rest of eternity.

It was Ganyu who pulled her out of the trance that she was in.

“What is that?” Ganyu asked, looking ahead of them with a small laugh.

Keqing looked to where she was pointing. There was a blue balloon floating above their younger selves. Keqing’s past self was holding onto the balloon’s string, happily smiling as she handed it over to Ganyu.

It wasn’t just a plain blue balloon. This balloon had the face of a Qilin painted on it, or at least, she assumed it was a Qilin. There were two black horns that were made out of paper that were sticking out of the balloon.

In all honesty, it was an atrocious piece of art. Keqing didn’t even have to guess who’d drawn it, she knew it was herself. She watched as Ganyu took the string of the balloon into her hand, smiling as she kissed Keqing on the cheek. Apparently, she’d managed to woo Ganyu with such a sad attempt at a Qilin balloon.

“It’s a shame that they don’t make balloons like that anymore,” Keqing commented. “Mass production has ruined the special, unique touch everything used to have.”

Ganyu looked at her in amusement. “That’s true. I really think that’s what the world is missing right now. A Qilin balloon.”

“I’ll have to recreate it for you sometime.”

Their surroundings blurred until they were on an empty street of a village. There were dark clouds that hung above them in the night sky, the sound of soft raindrops that slowly hit the ground, and there were two figures ahead closely huddled under an umbrella.

Ganyu’s younger self stepped out of the umbrella directly into the rain. Pure peace was written all over her face as she tilted her chin upwards toward the sky.

Keqing watched as her past self stayed still right under the umbrella. Ganyu held out an outstretched hand, but Keqing shook her head with a laugh, her grip on the umbrella visibly tightening.

“Will you join me just once?” Ganyu asked, her eyes bright.

“I’ll watch you enjoy the rain from right here,” Keqing heard herself say as she pointed at the umbrella.

“You wouldn’t do it for me?” Ganyu had a slight pout.

“Well, when you phrase it like that…”

“I’m only kidding.” Ganyu’s younger self smiled, then walked ahead of her. “Let’s go. You can stay dry.”

“What is it that you want me to do? Walk under the rain with you?” Keqing asked, following after her quickly.

“I want you to dance with me.”

“Here?” Keqing asked, looking around in confusion.

“Would you like a more refined location?” Ganyu asked, her brows raised.

The two of them bickered for a bit before Keqing’s younger self finally gave in. They danced together. Awkwardly. It was more of Keqing trying to mirror Ganyu’s movements. They paced around each other, their arms raising and flowing as if to the rhythm of the rain. The sound of their soft laughter floated above the rainfall. In the silence of the evening, it was almost as if they were the only two to exist in that very moment. And to their younger selves, that was what likely mattered the most to them.

“You had a good number of movies you starred in where you were a dancer, didn’t you?” Keqing asked, turning to Ganyu. “Around twenty or so?”

Ganyu blinked in surprise. “I did. I’m surprised you know of them. I had a phase in my career where I was continuously cast in movies where the starring roles were all dancers. Different forms of dance, too. But that was long ago.”

“Long ago or not, that’s still impressive.” Keqing smiled as she watched the younger Ganyu continue to dance. “You started off with some humble beginnings.”

Ganyu laughed. “Thanks. It seems like you’ve done plenty of research of your own about me.”

The bulk of her “research” had happened during her recent time spent in the mortal realm. Matchmaking without Infinity System meant hours of scouring the internet for information about the mortals she received prayers from. During that time, she’d often played Ganyu’s movies in the background to fill up the silence with the sound of her favorite voice.

With a small shrug, Keqing replied, “I suppose I’ve been your fan from the very beginning. Your fans have quite the competition. I’ve heard that they like to see who’s better by telling each other how quickly they’ve consumed all of your content.”

“Do they?” Ganyu asked, her brows lifting in surprise. “You know more than I do. Where’d you hear that from?”

Keqing realized it would’ve been better to keep her mouth shut. How was she going to explain that while searching through social media to find information on mortals, she’d come across countless posts all from thousands of Ganyu’s fans?

So she did what she was best at, and she used her favorite person to ever exist as a scapegoat.

“Ai found that out just a few days ago, and she was the one who told me,” Keqing answered.

Ganyu made a noise of realization. “Right. Because she’s the one who’s my ultimate fan, right?”

Keqing inwardly cringed as she thought back to the first time she’d ever used Ai as a scapegoat. She met Ganyu’s gaze, and she saw the amused glint in her eyes. It was enough to know that Ganyu could already see right through her.

“How could anyone not?” Keqing asked, grinning widely in hopes that it would be enough to end the conversation right then and there.

Thankfully, Ganyu laughed and didn’t press the matter further. But a sense of guilt soon started to grow within Keqing. It appeared out of nowhere, but its grasp on her started to feel heavier by the second.

She was guilty for what would be headed their way. Although the memories now were pleasant, she knew that the memories would soon take a turn for the worst. She wasn’t prepared to see her death, if that memory was even going to be shown. While she hadn’t saved that memory for herself, she wasn’t so sure if Ganyu would’ve done the same. How would she even be able to warn her?

They now stood on a path made of small stones. Maple trees with beautiful orange leaves lined both sides of the road, one that had a koi pond in the center. The path then led to a house that looked like it had just been recently constructed. Its red roof shone under the sunlight as two blue birds chirped from their perched positions.

“I can’t wait to call this place our home.”

Keqing looked to her side, but it wasn’t her current Ganyu who’d talked. She still couldn’t locate where their former selves were in this memory.

“Do you see where we are?” Keqing asked.

Ganyu laughed as she pointed up. “We’re there sitting on top of the gate.”

Keqing looked up. She had to squint through the rays of sunlight to see two pairs of legs dangling from the tall gate.

“I can’t wait to live here and call you mine every single day,” Keqing heard herself say.

“Oh, I have a feeling that I’ll be calling you my wife so much in a single day, to the point where you’ll be sick of it.”

“We can test that out. But I could never get sick of it.”

Keqing turned her gaze past the gate. There was the house that she was supposed to live in with Ganyu. She hadn’t included this house in her own memories, and yet, it looked so familiar. But with the familiarity came a sharp pain that seemed to flash through her head, although it disappeared as quickly as it came. Keqing slightly winced as she closed her eyes. She hadn’t felt a headache like that before.

But she also felt a pang in her heart. There was so much hope in her voice for their future. It hurt to listen to.

“Keqing. Are you okay?” Ganyu’s grasp on her hand tightened.

She exhaled as she opened her eyes again to Ganyu’s concerned face taking up most of her vision. “I’m fine. It went away.”

“Is it because the memories are too much?” Ganyu asked with worry swimming in her eyes. “I don’t want you to go through with this if it’ll be harmful.”

“I don’t think it’s anything to do with these memories. I had no issue when I was viewing my own memories in the past.”

“Maybe my memories hold a different effect, though, since they’re mine to begin with?” Ganyu’s brows furrowed. “You really don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

“I want to stay here with you,” Keqing said, and she looked Ganyu in the eyes, hoping she could sense her sincerity. “I’m alright. I mean it. I have divine blood flowing through my veins. This will not break me.”

Ganyu slowly nodded. “Okay. You let me know at any point if you change your mind.”

There were more pleasant memories that followed. Memories where Ganyu had gone off to several long battles, returning to Keqing who always prepared a heartwarming reunion, which came in the form of a small picnic at Luhua Pool. Keqing often read books aloud to Ganyu, while Ganyu rested her head on her lap and napped the day away under the sun.

The surroundings shifted once more until they were standing inside what looked like a pavilion with red beams and a curved green roof, right next to a large pond full of lotus flowers. Keqing watched as she stood in the center of the pavilion with the younger Ganyu, the two of them laughing softly with linked hands. She took a moment to listen to realize they were laughing about some kind of inside joke that related to naming dogs.

The topic of their conversation changed to their upcoming wedding: how Ganyu had invited Xiao, who’d recently agreed to attend. Keqing looked happy, but more so over the fact that Ganyu was happy about it. It seemed like between then and now, her feelings toward Xiao hadn’t changed much.

Keqing glanced at the view extending past the pavilion. There were hills with trees boasting bright green leaves, and along one path she saw two men, each of them on a horse. They were both wearing golden armor, although one of them seemed to be wearing more of an ornate armor with red decorations. It was hard to tell from the distance, but one thing was apparent: this soldier with the fancier appearance held a bow and arrow in the air.

His arm was drawn back, with the arrow pointing below, aimed right at them.

Keqing felt the headache from earlier hit her again, stronger this time. She turned to Ganyu, her heart starting to pound in fear as she quickly blurted, “Ganyu. Don’t look.”

She reached her other hand out to cover Ganyu’s eyes. But Ganyu took her hand in her grasp, lowering it.

Ganyu’s gaze was sorrowful. “I can look, whatever it is. I saw this once before, didn’t I?”

Keqing couldn’t bring herself to. She flinched as the flash of pain within her head came back, this time radiating and increasing in severity as it lasted a few more seconds. She closed her eyes shut. The pain grew and grew, and she cried out as she reached up to hold onto her head.

The pain slowly subsided, ebbing away as she started to focus on her breathing. She took a slow, deep breath as she opened her eyes again.

She wasn’t standing in the pavilion anymore. She was on the couch in the living room of her apartment.

More specifically, she was lying on Ganyu’s lap. Ganyu was sitting on the couch, her head resting back, and her eyes were closed. Her chest rose slowly to the movement of her breathing. Her eyebrows were drawn together, and she looked to be in slight distress.

Keqing rose from her position on Ganyu’s lap, and she let go of the breath she’d been holding. She was back. But Ganyu wasn’t. She had to let go of Ganyu’s hand because of the piercing pain in her head. She wasn’t sure why the pain had started. This kind of pain was a pain she’d never felt before in her whole lifetime, as both a mortal and a god.

But she’d seen her death. Or at least, the moments leading up to it. The man with the arrow had to be the one who’d caused her demise. Zhongli had told her that her death had revolved around the very act of archery that was an integral part of her daily life.

Her death. The thought came with a wave of pain once again. She silently swore. Whatever the cause of this pain was, it had to do with her death. But it was strange. Talking to Zhongli or Ai about her death, or even thinking about it, had never caused any pain like this in the past.

Keqing was taken out of her thoughts when she heard a soft whimper. She quickly looked at Ganyu, who had a small tear running down her cheek. Keqing felt her heart grow heavy as she reached out to brush the tear away with a finger.

She glanced down at Ganyu’s empty hands, then she took them in her own.

There was a flash of light in the corner of the room. Keqing was startled to see the entrance of a tall woman wearing a black robe that covered nearly every inch of her skin. A single long braid of white hair came down one shoulder, serving as a sharp contrast. It was Ipos.

Keqing pursed her lips. “Goodness. What an entrance. Not even a knock on the door?”

“Do not impose such mortal concepts upon me.” Ipos stepped forward, her posture perfect as she stopped in front of her and Ganyu. Her gaze lingered on their linked hands that Keqing made no move to let go of. “I have come bearing an urgent message. The timing is quite impeccable, is it not?”

The timing was indeed a choice. But she knew everything Ipos did was intentional. “Have I been summoned once again by the Elders?” Keqing asked.

Ipos gave a shake of her head. “This is in relation to what happened with Malphas. The Elders are currently still preoccupied in their dealings with him, but they have sent me to bring you this.”

Keqing watched as Ipos held out her hand, palm up, and a small pink ball of light appeared. It floated above her palm, then it began to drift slowly in the air towards Keqing.

“What’s this?” Keqing asked as the light stopped in front of her chest.

“The Higher Rulers discovered that Malphas had interacted with you shortly before he was caught. This was during the same time that Ai reported that you had disappeared, even though to us, you were perfectly safe in your mortal home,” Ipos said. “Malphas took away a small portion of your divine power at that point to catch you in his delusion.”

“I’ve never seen divine power with my own eyes like this,” Keqing said, awed. “Thank you for returning this to me.”

“You should also be able to remember what happened during the time of your disappearance when this returns to you.”

“Oh, how wonderful.” Keqing sighed. “I’m sure they’re just splendid memories.”

“You performed an act that violated the Heavenly Principles,” Ipos said, “but the circumstances around it were unique. It’s what we’re finding happened to many of the gods that Malphas manipulated. You will hear from me again regarding what the Higher Rulers decide for everyone, if they choose to intervene in any way.”

Keqing nodded. She already knew of the match she’d made for Malphas and the mortal, the one that she’d done with a lead arrow. “Thank you, Ipos. As long as I’m not banned to the mortal realm again without Infinity System for a longer time, I should be fine.”

“You should set higher expectations for yourself,” Ipos said. “I will be going. Thank you for successfully completing the portion of your punishment by revealing the truth to Ganyu.”

“She hasn’t woken up from the memories yet.”

“I am aware.” Ipos glanced again at their hands. “Whatever you choose to do, do not forget about the Heavenly Principles. It would be a shame for you to face the Higher Rulers once again. Morax would not be able to help you again if it were to occur.”

Ipos disappeared before Keqing could reply. As she disappeared, the ball of light drifted closer to her until it merged into her chest. A sense of relief washed over her, as if her body was recognizing what had once been hers to begin with. It was a warm feeling, much like the sense of home.

The memories, as Ipos had mentioned, came to her in a quick flash of events. She remembered Malphas' delusion and his terrible impersonation of Ganyu, how he had tried to set Keqing up with his latest mortal lover. And then, the memory of her death hit her last.

She no longer experienced a headache when thinking of her death. That made her believe that the pain had been associated with the lost memories. Now that she remembered them, all that she was left to wonder was who the general that killed her was. She couldn’t recognize him at all. Had his intentions truly stemmed from his jealousy of Ganyu’s fame?

Keqing’s attention darted to Ganyu’s face. There was another small tear rolling down her cheek. She inhaled sharply as she reached out once more to wipe it away with her thumb.

Minutes passed. Ganyu continued to softly cry, and Keqing made sure each tear was carefully swept away.

After some time, Ganyu’s eyes opened. She let out a shaky breath. “Keqing.”

Keqing’s lips parted as she tried to think of what to say. There was so much she wanted to say, and yet, no words could get past her mouth. She only squeezed Ganyu’s hands.

It was quiet except for the sound of a car honking outside.

“Are you okay? Is the pain in your head gone now?” Ganyu asked, and Keqing nodded.

“I’m okay now. But I should be asking you that question. Are you okay?”

Ganyu gave her a small smile. There was a tinge of sadness to it. “I am.” She looked down at their hands, and quietly said, “I’m happy you’re still here. That it wasn’t truly the end for you when you were struck by the arrow.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t the end for me, either. So that I could meet you again like this.” Keqing paused before saying, “I don’t know where your memories ended. Did Zhongli come to you to store your memories away?”

“He did. He explained that you were very much alive, but that I wouldn’t remember that conversation any longer. I wouldn’t remember you. Or us.”

“I regret it,” Keqing said, lowering her head. “I’m sorry. I came to that decision by myself. You should’ve had a say in it too.”

“Would you have been able to come meet me to get my input?”

“No.”

Ganyu raised her chin, bringing Keqing’s face up until they were looking at each other. “I believe that you chose what was best for us. I’m still having a hard time processing all of this, but I trust you. And may I remind you that we cannot do anything about what’s already been done? As I said earlier, the past is the past.”

“It is the past, but it’s a past that I could’ve potentially avoided if I’d—”

“Keqing.” Ganyu laughed softly. “If it’s my forgiveness that you seek, you already have it. I don’t blame you in the slightest. The person who should be begging for forgiveness is the fool who even dared to end your life.”

“The general.” Keqing sat up straight. “Do you remember his name?”

“It was Daipai. He fought in the war for decades before he disappeared suddenly one day,” Ganyu said. “There was no trace of him at all. Do you know what may have happened to him?”

“No. The whole thing is a little suspicious. Have you ever had a bad encounter with him?”

Ganyu shook her head. “He only spoke to me a few times. He was never malicious to my face. I never knew he felt that way about me.”

“I’ll have to look into it. It should be easier now that I know his name.”

“I’ll try my best to gather more information, as well.” Ganyu had a fierce look of determination on her face. “I can only hope he’s paying for his consequences, wherever his soul may be.”

“I’m just relieved that he didn’t hurt you.”

Ganyu smiled, although it seemed sad. “What’s most important is this. Thank you for saving my life. Did I say that already? I should’ve said that in the very beginning. But it feels wrong to thank you for an act that cost you your own life.”

“I’m here now. And I think you would’ve done the same for me, had you been in my shoes.”

“I’m sure I would’ve, without a single doubt.” Ganyu slightly leaned forward, her voice lowering as she said, “Thank you for showing me these memories, Keqing. Although they were incredibly painful towards the end, I’m glad to know the truth.”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Keqing replied. “I didn’t know about our past for the longest time. It was only recently after my failed matchmaking attempts for you.”

With a slight shake of her head, Ganyu said, “You don’t have to apologize. I would’ve been able to wait however long it took. But despite the fact that trying to find me a match was painfully annoying for you, can I just say that I’m thankful for it? I’m grateful we got to meet again. Maybe that’s a sick thought.”

“I don’t think it’s a sick thought. I believe we would’ve met again, no matter what.” Keqing found herself faltering a bit as Ganyu smiled, and with that alone, her eyes caught on those pretty lips again.

She recalled what it was like to kiss them. It was instantaneous. She couldn’t help the memories. It seemed Ganyu was thinking the same. Her eyes also drifted down to her lips, and their faces were already so close to each other. She could hear Ganyu’s soft breathing through her nose starting to quicken. Keqing felt her own chest starting to rise and fall to the same pace in anticipation.

But Keqing leaned back as she glanced away. She wasn’t a fool to test the limits here.

“You thank me for saving your life, but I need to thank you for making my mortal years so meaningful,” Keqing said. “Having the privilege to love you and make all of those memories was a true gift.”

“That goes both ways. You taught me a lot about living. When I was first reluctant to accept your confession, it was all because of my fear of the future that held me back. I was fairly distant with mortals when I was young, never making many friends. I could never recall what triggered the change within me to get closer to people. But it was all you.”

Keqing smiled. ”I wouldn’t attribute all of that to me. But it’s beautiful that you’ve come a long way. I think I’ve progressed backward in that same frame of time. Which isn’t progressing at all. I guess that’s a regression.”

Ganyu looked baffled. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, have you ever heard of the Goddess of Love having a close batch of friends?”

Ganyu slightly wrinkled her nose. “To be fair, rumors about the gods are never accurate. Even the depictions of gods. Like yourself.”

“That’s true.”

“What made you not want to befriend the other gods?” Ganyu asked, then added, “If that’s not too personal to ask.”

“I felt out of place when I was around them,” Keqing said. “I remember the first gathering I went to after my ascension. It was after months of my training that I was finally allowed to go. I’d been extremely nervous to go, but when I went, everyone showed a lot of interest in me being a new god.”

“That must’ve been a lot of pressure. Showing up as the new person in front of people who have already been doing it for millenia.”

“Very much so. I was a baby in all of their eyes. There were a few nice gods, but I got the sense that they looked down on me. I was the first Goddess of Love to ever exist. There had been none before me. What I thought had been genuine interest in me turned out to have more of a sinister motive.”

Ganyu’s eyes were full of sympathy. “Even more pressure, then. And judgment.”

“They thought that my divine power wasn’t being used for meaningful work,” Keqing said. “They all underestimated the power of love.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that,” Ganyu said. “They were fools. I wish I could’ve been there to support you during all of that.”

“I wished for the same. And I wish I would’ve been there for you so you didn’t have to suffer thinking that I was truly gone.”

Ganyu sighed softly, then she asked, “Can I give you a hug?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Keqing replied.

“I think we deserve a big hug after seeing all of that,” Ganyu said as she leaned forward to hug her. Her chin was nestled into Keqing’s shoulder as she said, “Thank you for those memories.”

The warmth of the embrace felt like home. It felt just right, as if nothing else mattered in the world. Just the two of them.

“Thank you, as well.” Keqing reluctantly pulled apart from the hug as she asked, “Do you have to leave soon? It’s getting late.”

“What time is it?” Ganyu asked as she raised her wrist to look at her watch. “Goodness. It’s nearly midnight. I have to be back at the set in Qingce in a few hours.”

“In a few hours?” Keqing looked at her incredulously. “You haven’t gotten any sleep.”

“You get used to it after a while.” Ganyu took out her phone, her fingers rapidly moving on the screen. “Xiao’s been hanging around nearby and he’s ready to pick me up. It seems I also missed ten calls from him. I’m sorry to leave you so soon, Keqing.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one sorry to have kept you busy this whole night when you could’ve been sleeping,” Keqing said, and she stood up from the couch. She glanced at Ganyu’s ‘Match made in Celestia’ shirt and added, “You can change back into the shirt you were wearing earlier.”

Ganyu looked down and laughed. “I totally forgot I was wearing this. Would you be offended if I chose to keep it?”

“It’s all yours,” Keqing said, then hesitated as she asked, “You’re really okay with the rumors that will continue to fly around about us?”

“I’ll handle them with Xiao. But there’s a good chance that many might be speculating that it’s all for publicity for our upcoming movie,” Ganyu responded, picking up her purse from the couch. “You don’t have to worry yourself with our mortal affairs. But I worry for you, Keqing. Will all of that talk not get you in trouble in Celestia?”

“Rumors alone will not, no.” Keqing made the mistake of glancing at Ganyu’s lips again at that very moment, and she found Ganyu was looking at her with a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I am glad to hear that.” Ganyu slung her back over her shoulder and walked with Keqing to the front door. “Please get good rest. It’s been a long night.”

“You deserve your rest too,” Keqing said, giving her a look. “I hope you can sleep during the ride to Qingce.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there for a couple weeks. When I miss you, I’ll give that shrine in Qingce another visit.” Ganyu smiled as she pulled the door open. “With a less embarrassing message this time, now that I know who I’ll be praying to.”

“It was not embarrassing in the slightest.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” Ganyu laughed as she gave her a small wave. “Thank you again for tonight.”

“Thank you for going on that journey with me,” Keqing said. “It means the world to me.”

“Of course. Anytime you need something, don’t hesitate to call me.” Ganyu took a few steps backward with that same sweet smile still lingering on her lips.

“Let me walk you outside,” Keqing said, and Ganyu shook her head.

Was it rude to offer to walk her outside? She only knew of this from the mortal movies she’d watched that Ganyu starred in. It seemed like a show of good manners.

“You can stay here. I think people may have more to say if they catch us outside together.” Ganyu laughed. “And that kind of rumor with picture evidence is a little more of a pain to get out of.”

“Ah. Alright, then.” Keqing wanted to preserve as much of Ganyu’s reputation as possible. She watched as Ganyu quickly walked down the hall, then called out, “Ganyu.”

Ganyu turned around, her brows raised. “Yes?”

Keqing nervously bit her lip. “I know you might still be in shock over everything. If you need someone to talk to again once it all really starts hitting you, I’m here for you. Always.”

Ganyu’s gaze was a little sorrowful, but she quickly brightened up and gave her a big grin with a thumbs-up. “Same to you.”

“Text me when you get to Qingce,” Keqing said, and Ganyu nodded.

She didn’t know if this was something mortals did regularly. She’d never had to show interest in someone safely making it to a destination before. After all, she had her bubbles to keep track of where people were if need be. But this was a concept that she’d seen a few times in some of the TV shows and movies that Ganyu had starred in.

“I will,” Ganyu answered.

This time, it was Keqing who gave her a thumbs-up. “And please let me know if Xiao gives you a hard time about staying out late tonight.”

“Oh, you don’t have to concern yourself about that.” Ganyu waved a hand in dismissal. “He’s the least of our worries.”

Keqing laughed. “Whatever you say. He may have a word to say about it if he heard you say that.”

“I’m sure he would.” Ganyu rolled her eyes, then she waved once more before disappearing into the elevator. “Have a good night!”

“Goodnight!”

With Ganyu’s absence came silence. As Keqing closed the door behind her and walked back into her living room, a new worry grew within her. Ganyu’s calm response may have very well been due to the pure shock of the news, with no room to digest any of it. But once it all truly sunk in for her, would she still feel the same forgiveness?

It was a pointless worry. She knew very well what Ganyu was like. Ganyu was patient, kind, and gracious. She’d shown her all of those traits since the beginning of meeting as strangers on the set of Live for Me when she’d been a rookie actress fumbling throughout each and every scene.

But this fear still quickly crept into her heart, making itself right at home.

Chapter Text

Out of all the people in the world, Keqing hadn’t expected to ever get a text from someone claiming to be Yae Miko. But that was how the day had started. As she’d been hunched over her desk, working on a match, her attention was stolen away by the ping of her phone. It initially sent a rush of excitement within her, thinking that the text had come from the one person she wanted to hear from the most.

She didn’t have Yae’s number saved, but that wasn’t necessary. She made herself known.

Unknown Number:
It’s Yae. Do you have time to meet?

Keqing’s eyes narrowed. She had never in her life talked to Yae personally, so she wasn’t sure what the reason for the informal text was. She sat there for ten minutes trying to wonder what Yae’s motives were, and how she would even respond to the text. After that round of overthinking, she came to another conclusion.

There was no way to know that this was Yae. There was a concept that Ai had introduced to her recently: spam texts. This text could’ve easily been sent by a stranger impersonating Yae for whatever sinister motives. Everything suddenly clicked. That made much more sense than Yae casually texting her out of nowhere.

She wasn’t sure who this stranger was, and so she didn’t bother texting them back.

With that, Keqing carried on happily with the rest of her matchmaking work. Today, she was focused on a woman in her fifties who was cautious to love after suffering countless heartbreaks in the past. But Keqing was about to give this lady the match of her lifetime, saving her from any more heartbreak to come.

Well, with the exception of this lover’s death in the future, if she were to outlive him.

Still, it was a match that brought her some joy. This woman named Lily from Mondstadt had been praying nonstop to Keqing for five consecutive days now, after recent news of her flower shop business’ rival flaunting a new relationship with some successful entrepreneur. It had filled Lily with immense jealousy, but also a deep longing for her own relationship.

It was unfortunate that Lily’s match was her rival’s very own brother. It was an intentional selection on Keqing’s end. There was another person that would’ve also been just as compatible with the woman, but that wasn’t nearly as exciting as becoming so entangled with the family of your rival of twenty years.

Of course, there was a small part of her that spitefully chose this match because of Lily’s constant prayers for the past week. It would’ve been manageable if the prayers had been quick and to the point. But each prayer had been thirty minutes long. For five days. Keqing was not as gracious as someone like Ganyu to disregard such a nuisance.

Keeping herself busy with work was an art Keqing had perfected after all of these years. Her attention drifted away briefly when she heard the sound of another text from her phone. Her automatic reflex was to reach for it, but she stopped herself. Her hand hovered over it, her heart starting to race again in anticipation of it being a text from Ganyu.

But such excitement and expectations wouldn’t do her any favors. There was a chance that it was another text from that stranger pretending to be Yae. The stranger with ill intent with the desire to steal her credit card information, as Ai would say it. She wouldn’t blame them. It made sense for the credit card given to her by Zhongli to be sought after by mortals. But really, she was astonished by the fact that some of these people had no better things to do. If they were that bored, she wished she could push some of her workload onto them.

Keqing brought the phone closer, and the screen lit up with a text. Not from Ganyu, but the unknown number once more.

Unknown Number:
Are you free tomorrow?

“No, and especially not for you. Go find someone else’s credit card to steal,” Keqing murmured, turning her phone off and focusing again on the bubble in front of her. Within the bubble was Lily arranging a bouquet in her flower shop.

Her phone buzzed yet again. Keqing glanced at it, expecting another text from the stranger. But this time, it was a text from Amber. It took her by surprise, though in a good way.

Amber:
Hey! Long time no talk. Hope you’ve been well. You look great with Ganyu!
I totally didn’t see it coming… ;)

Keqing wasn’t sure how to respond. It was great to hear from Amber again, as she’d been her first friend in the mortal realm in her recent return. Ganyu’s publicity team had handled the surge of the pictures by quickly taking many of them down, though that hadn’t stopped the distribution among the corners of the internet. The way Ganyu’s team had dealt with the rumors was by flatly denying them all.

The publicity team’s answer given in all of the articles traced back to a personal statement from Ganyu herself, where she explained that the matching shirts had just been the result of a bet that the two of them had lost. Not a very believable excuse, but Keqing wasn’t one to judge when all of it had been her idea.

So, Keqing only replied with: Hi Amber! We really aren’t together, but that’s sweet of you. Thanks for reaching out! I miss you!

Would Amber believe her? Definitely not. But she had to try to at least put on an act, even if it was a ridiculous attempt.

There was a soft thud as a stack of papers was dropped in front of her. Keqing glanced up from her phone at the pile of papers, then at Ai, who stood in front of it with a strange smile. It didn’t seem like one of her genuine smiles. This one seemed to have a mix of both apology and regret.

“What’s this?” asked Keqing, setting her phone down next to the small mountain of papers. “Information about our next match?”

“I found information on General Daipai,” Ai replied. “Mortal sources didn’t reveal much information since it happened so long ago. So I had to resort to looking into the historical accounts from Celestia.”

Keqing grasped the first piece of paper at the very top and slowly brought it closer. There was a sketch of General Daipai’s face, along with his full name and date of birth. “Celestia? Who’d you ask to get this?”

“I may have asked Chuyu to help out,” Ai said. “She went into the Grand Library in Celestia and brought these copies for us.”

“I’ll have to thank her. Have you looked through any of this?”

Ai nodded. “I analyzed all of it.”

“Was there anything useful that you came across?”

“I don’t know if you’ll find it useful, but there was no direct mention of your death in any of these papers. Nothing about how he might’ve played a part in it. There was only one sentence that hinted at it. To be exact, it said, ‘General Daipai quickly reversed all of his personal victories when he made a reckless decision during the war that completely cost him his position and reputation.’”

“Ganyu said that he disappeared during the war. I guess it’s safe to assume that all of those repercussions happened consequently after my death?”

“I suppose. All it said was that he was exiled soon after. He became a farmer, soon forgotten by the rest of the world.” Ai clenched her fists. “He deserved to suffer for what he did to you. That isn’t a just punishment at all.”

Keqing placed the paper back onto the pile. “He must’ve had someone of great status on his side. A god, even.”

Ai’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t think that…”

“I would.” Keqing smiled brightly at her. “Doesn’t that seem like just what our dearest friend Malphas would do? Especially after I told you the reason behind his hatred for me, how it all leads back to me matching away his first ever love, Furong, to another woman.”

With a disgusted look on her face, Ai said, “If he possessed the sick power to catch you, a goddess, in his delusions, I’m sure he’d have a thousand times’ worth more influence on a mortal.”

“Precisely. Ganyu said that Daipai had never interacted with her negatively in the past. While it’s possible for the general to have held a grudge against her, I think it’s a likely possibility that Malphas pulled some strings behind the curtains.” Keqing clucked her tongue. “You know, Orobas has a sick sense of humor. My death was caused all in the name of a selfish man’s unlucky love.”

“I’d expect that from the God of Fate. He needs to entertain himself in some way, I’m sure,” Ai said jokingly, but her tone grew serious once more. “We’ll have to bring this up to Ipos, if the Elders aren’t already aware yet.”

“I’ll discuss it with her.”

“You’d hope the Elders would know about all of this. What if they decide to grant you a wish in return for all your help in this Malphas case?”

Keqing stared at her. “I think we’ve spent enough time in the mortal realm. What are you talking about?”

“I’m kidding.” Ai huffed. “After all this time you’ve spent with mortals, you still can’t figure out what’s a joke.”

“I really can’t. Someone was just joking around pretending they were Yae Miko.” Keqing grabbed her phone, unlocking it and tapping on her text messages. She held the phone out to Ai. “Look at this.”

“Wait.” Ai took the phone into her hands, her brows drawn together. She looked back at Keqing. “This is Yae. I looked her number up just now in the list of contacts that Chuyu connected me with not long ago. It’s her.”

“What?” Keqing caught her phone as Ai threw it back to her. She nearly missed the catch, but her hands were positioned correctly by luck. “Are you serious? What would she want with me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s heard about what Barbatos is planning in Celestia. I heard he has a new name for his whole campaign. He’s calling it The Freedom Agenda.”

Keqing blinked. “That’s quite fitting, coming from him.”

“If it works, it works.” Ai shrugged. “But you know, this could be a good thing. Beelzebul departed from all godly affairs several millennia ago. She must have some insight for you.”

“I don’t think it’d be useful insight. I’m not interested in stepping down from my position.”

“Or maybe they just want gossip. The drama. The publicity. Yae’s a huge internet personality. One picture with you would give her all of that. Your public appearances have been scarce, with the exception of the so-called jacket prank you pulled with Ganyu at the park last week.”

“I don’t know. It might also be because she’s close with Ganyu.”

“A mix of everything, then.” Ai hummed. “Are you going to respond to her?”

“I have things to do.” Keqing thumbed through the stack of papers in front of her. She stopped on a page that had a sketch of what appeared to be a battle map. “I see that you were really thorough with this search into Daipai’s history.”

“I may have found copies of irrelevant pages about him only to make it seem like there was a lot of information,” Ai admitted, smiling sheepishly. “But don’t change the topic on me.”

There was another buzz from her phone. Keqing shared a look with Ai, but she didn’t make a move to look at her screen.

“Yae can keep all of that internet fame to herself.”

Ai slightly wiggled her brows. “Even if she’s with Ganyu right now?”

“First of all, I don’t want to see you do that with your eyebrows ever again.” Keqing sighed. “And secondly, why would she be with Ganyu? Ganyu’s been busy in Qingce.”

“Qingce is where Yae also is this very moment, according to her latest post at 10:50 AM this morning. She was in one of their esteemed coffee shops at the heart of the city.”

In moments like these, Keqing found Ai’s limitless knowledge slightly annoying—especially when intentionally used to prove a point against her. “And?”

“I think it’d benefit you to go see Yae. You’d probably run into Ganyu. This is behavior I shouldn’t encourage, but you’ve been grouchy all week after not seeing her.” Ai’s nose slightly wrinkled. “I think even Ipos would understand. I’m being completely serious.”

Keqing paused, her index finger lifting in the air to shush her. “Grouchy?”

“Exactly. You’re just proving my case.” Ai crossed her arms. “Go check that text for me.”

“Your attitude is making me want to throw my phone out the window.”

“What a sweet statement.” Ai grinned. “Seriously, Keqing. Aren’t you curious about what Yae wants from you? Have a little hope. It might really have to do with Ganyu in Qingce.”

Keqing stared her down. “I’ll check it later without you breathing down my neck.”

“Gods above. I sincerely hope it’s an invitation from Yae for you to go to Qingce and meet her and Ganyu.” Ai let out a loud sigh as she started to stroll out of her room. “You need to be saved from your misery.”

Keqing pursed her lips as she internally questioned, what misery?

➵ ✩

She checked her phone two hours later. She’d gotten busy with her matchmaking work, and she’d spent most of the time purely fighting the urge to look at the tiny screen, since giving in would mean allowing Ai to have that sort of sick satisfaction.

Unknown Number:
I’m throwing a small party tomorrow evening to celebrate Ferthur Day, and Ganyu will be there.
You’re welcome to come too. As Keqing, of course.
Just let me know.

Keqing stared at the text. Ferthur Day, in reference to her birthday. She’d been so caught up with her work during the past week that she’d forgotten it was so soon.

Those within Teyvat celebrated her birthday every year. While many mortals paid no mind to most gods’ birthdays, her birthday was one of the few exceptions. Couples celebrated her birthday through spectacular dates that also included giving special offerings in her shrines, while those who hadn’t yet found their lovers spent the day whispering prayers that stemmed from the most vulnerable corners of their hearts.

While she dreaded the Windblume Festival the most, with Lantern Rite coming in second place, her own birthday took the third spot for the busiest time of the year. In Celestia, she often had a countdown leading up to each of these days, so that she could properly balance her work in anticipation for the rush of prayers to come flooding in.

But to deal with her birthday prayers without the help of Infinity System? The thought alone was starting to give her a headache.

The text also seemed to confirm that this wasn’t someone just pretending to be Yae. She’d been invited to come as Keqing, and not Ferthur. That said enough on its own.

“Ai,” Keqing called out as she left her room. Ai glanced at her from the couch with curious eyes. “Tomorrow’s my birthday.”

Ai smiled as she nodded excitedly. “Yes, it is.”

“I completely forgot about it.” Keqing sighed as she sat next to her on the couch. “This is terrible.”

“You weren’t saying anything about it, so I figured I wouldn’t remind you. I know it’s a touchy subject because of how chaotic it gets.”

“I probably won’t be getting any sleep for the next month. Or, rather, the next few months.” Keqing buried her face into her hands. They still had six more months to spend in the mortal realm without Infinity System, which seemed like a faraway dream at this point. “I might not even be done by the time we’re finally back in Celestia. We’re averaging twenty matches a day right now. We’re already behind on thousands. It’s not enough.”

Ai gave her shoulder a few pats. “I know. We’ll have to do the best we can here, and finish the rest in Celestia. There’s no other option. Those who deserve it will be patient as they wait to seek the right kind of love for themselves.”

Keqing rubbed her temples. “Yes. It’s going to be extremely busy from here on out. But I might have somewhere to be tomorrow, as a nice break before I’m thrown into reality again with this workload.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It might be really important for me to go.”

Ai seemed to be withholding any sort of judgment. “Are you going to see Ganyu?”

Keqing huffed at her quick assumption. “No. I have other people to meet besides Ganyu, you know.”

Ai arched her brow. “Really? Someone who’s really important to see on your birthday, and it isn’t Ganyu?”

“Do I look that unpopular to you?”

With a tap on her chin with a finger, Ai asked, “Are you asking for an honest answer?”

Keqing waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Forget it. I’m staying put tomorrow. I’ve got nobody to see.”

“By all means, you should go and see whoever it is.” Ai gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s your special day. Think of it as a birthday gift. Seeing the person most precious to you is a wonderful gift, you know. Even if it isn’t Ganyu.”

Keqing didn’t bat an eye. She stood up and walked right back to her room without saying a word, while Ai erupted into a fit of laughter behind her.

➵ ✩

And so her birthday came along.

Her birthday had never been special to her. Even as a mortal, she never paid it any more attention than she did other days. It was just another day of her existence. But it only worsened when she ascended and became known to the world as Ferthur. To think that the mortals would make her birthday seem like such a grand ordeal, when it was anything but that.

In fact, their celebrations on her birthday and the big fuss they insisted on making each year just created a headache. It was enough to make any remaining positive feeling lingering within her to sizzle out. Completely. The soft hum of prayers in her mind was incessant. Each prayer built upon the other, overlapping and blurring together. Keqing felt a little part of her soul die each time she heard a new prayer making its presence known in her head.

She spent most of the day longing for Infinity System as she worked with Ai to find matches for the mortals. Her mind would drift to Ganyu from time to time, but she was too preoccupied with the constant stream of prayers. The only good part of her day so far had been when she’d received a text from Ganyu earlier wishing her a happy birthday.

That text was indeed the best thing to happen on her birthday so far. Ganyu had apologized for only texting and not being able to call since she was so busy on the set. But the text alone made Keqing feel like she was dancing on the moon. She was lucky it was just a text. A call from Ganyu would’ve destroyed her focus and rendered her incapable of doing all of her matchmaking work for the day.

Ganyu’s text also included a question. She asked if there was anything Keqing wanted for her birthday. Keqing hadn’t been asked that question since her mortal years. It was nearly a foreign concept to her.

What she wanted most? It was something that could never happen. A kiss, maybe. But it was too much to ask for. A birthday present resulting in Divine Elders summoning her presence seemed far too unpleasant.

So Keqing had only responded with a cheesy statement: Your presence in my life is enough of a gift on its own.

It was truly the only good part of her birthday during such a monotonous day. She was moving like a robot at this point. Looking into the mortals’ lives through the bubbles, studying many moments they’d shared with their prospective lovers, then mindlessly sending off the arrows.

But it wasn’t entirely the worst. Ai had gotten Chuyu to offer some assistance, as well, so they’d successfully finished fifteen matches so far. She’d received a few birthday texts today from Zhongli, Venti, and Amber. It was now eight in the evening, and Keqing found her mind looping back to Ganyu in circles. Yae’s party would’ve started by now. Keqing had never replied to Yae’s invitation, since she’d been pondering the matter all day. She’d decide to go, and ten minutes later, she’d remind herself that it wouldn’t be the best idea. Back and forth, again and again.

“It’s my birthday,” Keqing said, abruptly standing up from her desk. “I deserve to have a little bit of fun, right?”

“You deserve to have a lot of fun,” Ai agreed. “Go on already. What are you still doing here?”

“We’ll take care of what we can,” Chuyu added from her seat next to Ai as she looked up from her laptop. “You should go see Ganyu.”

“Don’t stress yourself out too much doing this,” Keqing said, gesturing to the myriad of bubbles floating in the room. There had to be at least fifty. “I’ll do what I can tomorrow to catch up.”

“We’re never catching up until we get back to Celestia,” Ai replied with a slight shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Keqing knew she was right. “Lovely optimism as always, Ai.”

“Would you like us to help you pick out an outfit?” Chuyu suggested.

“You should wear the color purple. Ganyu’s favorite color.” Ai faked a pensive expression. “I wonder why it’s her favorite.”

“I don’t have to wonder,” Chuyu said, brightly. “But no matter what you wear, I’m positive that Ganyu will absolutely love it.”

Keqing gave the two of them a look of exasperation. “If I hear either of you mention Ganyu again, I’m kicking you out of here.”

“That’s not a problem. I’m sure Ganyu would allow us to stay at her place,” Ai said.

“She’d be the best host,” Chuyu agreed.

“In fact, she’d be so hospitable that she’d leave her home to us for the night, just for our own comfort. Where would she go to sleep? Maybe she’d show up here.” Ai paused. “In fact, if I run my calculations, she has a 95% likelihood of showing up to your door if such a situation were to ever arise.”

“Looks like you should kick us out, then,” Chuyu said, her eyes wide as she looked at Keqing.

Keqing decided not to entertain the teasing any further. She shook her head as she walked towards her closet. It was a skill, really, how Ai could seamlessly bring Ganyu into the conversation, no matter the topic. They could be talking about anything, and Ai would somehow link it back to Ganyu. With Chuyu added to the mix, it was a trainwreck.

If they were to ever speak about worms, for instance, Keqing could already imagine Ai saying sweetly, “Ganyu would care for you extremely well even if you were to ever turn into a worm. She’d build an entire home for your worm self and make sure you were provided with the best nutrients.”

To which Keqing would most likely answer her, “And if you were ever to turn into a worm, I would gladly use you as bait to fish.”

She absolutely would, with no hesitation.

➵ ✩

Keqing used the most logical method of transportation to Yae’s party, and that was teleportation. The party was at a mansion in Qingce, a house that Yae and Beelzebul both owned (and according to Ai, it was one of the many homes they owned throughout Teyvat). When Keqing arrived, it was bustling with activity. People talked, laughed, and danced. She was in a room that was as large as a ballroom, brightly lit with several golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

It took a glance around to realize that she was standing in the corner of the room, right behind a grand piano. Nobody seemed to notice her quiet entrance. Keqing breathed a sigh of relief.

Someone seemed to be playing the piano. Keqing stepped to the side, her eyes falling upon the woman playing the piano. A pair of purple eyes greeted her. It was Yae. Her pink hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and her droopy ears slightly perked up. Her hands flew across the piano as she played, but her eyes remained on Keqing.

After a couple seconds, the music became quieter. Yae gave a slight bow of her head. “Welcome. You arrived, after all. Ganyu will be pleased.”

“I didn’t come just for her,” Keqing said immediately, and Yae raised her brows. “I simply wanted to see what kind of party this would be.”

Yae made a noise of realization, although it was laced with sarcasm. “I hope it meets your expectations.”

With that, the sound of the piano came to a halt. Yae’s figure rose as she stood up from the stool, revealing her long navy satin dress. She nodded at a man next to her. He took over and sat at the stool as Yae stepped towards her.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you,” Yae said, smiling as she looked at her outfit. “Your dress is lovely. Quite fitting for the star of the show.”

The dress had been Ai’s selection, which had also won Chuyu’s stamp of approval. It was a black dress with translucent sleeves and small white flowers embroidered on the bottom of the fabric that reached the ground. Keqing’s gaze drifted behind Yae. There had to be about a hundred people in this room. They were all dispersed throughout the room, and the majority of them held champagne glasses between their fingers. Keqing was looking for one person in particular. But she couldn’t find those familiar black horns anywhere.

“Thank you,” Keqing said. “I must thank you for the invitation, as well.”

“But of course.” Yae tilted her head slightly. “Happy birthday, Keqing. Will you be sticking around long? There will be cake later.”

“While I appreciate it, I won’t be able to stay for long.”

Yae nodded. “While you’re here, you should check the amazing view of the city. It’s out on the balcony at the end of the hall.”

Keqing turned her head to the side, where there was an open door leading to a long hall. At the end of the hall were two glass doors. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the back profile of the person who was standing there on the balcony.

“Before you leave later,” Yae added, “would you come talk to Ei? She’s been wanting to discuss something important with you.”

Keqing looked away from the balcony and back at Yae. “Will do.”

Yae smiled, her pink ears perking up as she slightly bowed her head again. “Please, enjoy the night.”

With a small nod in response, Keqing made her way towards the door to the hall. She walked through the brightly lit hall, her heels clicking against the marble floor. With every step she took, she was filled with a bundle of anticipation, along with a little bit of worry.

Actually, to say it was just a little bit was an understatement. This was the first time she’d be seeing Ganyu in-person after unveiling their past. Ganyu’s texts to her hadn’t been anything out of the norm, but Keqing still couldn’t help but worry. It was what she was best at.

She was still afraid of the possibility of Ganyu having a sudden change of heart. If Ganyu somehow decided to move on from their past and proceed with her own life, in pursuit of someone else who was right for her—someone she could actually love—Keqing wouldn’t be able to deny her that right. She wasn’t in any place to.

But it was all just a silly fear that she had, nothing that was based upon true reason. That was what she kept reminding herself as she pushed her worries back down. What mattered most was that Ganyu was here right now.

From here, all she could see was Ganyu’s back. Keqing could think of about a hundred words to describe it. But she would leave it at this: Ganyu was beautiful and breathtaking as ever, in her high-waisted black pants that were paired with a flowy white shirt. Her hair was tied back loosely with dainty braids.

Her hair looked soft, especially under the faint light streaming down from the moon. Keqing wondered what it would be like to run her hand through it. But she shook her head, breaking herself out of her thoughts as she took a deep breath. She had to focus. She couldn’t stray from her intentions for coming to see Ganyu.

Once she made it to the balcony doors, she rested her hand over the handle, ready to pull it. But she faltered when she saw that Ganyu wasn’t alone. From this angle, she could see that there was someone else standing to the far left of the balcony, standing against the rail.

It was a woman with wavy brown hair, and it was long enough to cover the back exposed through her dress. Keqing recognized her immediately, even without seeing her face. The woman slowly turned around just at that moment, her eyes widening as their gazes locked on each other.

Keqing’s hand quickly lifted from the door handle. She hadn’t expected to see Lanxi here tonight.

But Lanxi’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. Her lips moved as she said something to Ganyu.

Ganyu turned around as quick as lightning. There was a look of pure surprise on her face, and she then broke out into a beautiful smile. Keqing felt a small squeeze in her heart. She was relieved that Ganyu’s first reaction wasn’t to shun her away in accordance with the fears plaguing her mind. Her eyes slightly lowered to Ganyu’s blouse, where the neckline dipped, drawing attention to the small area of exposed skin on her chest. Keqing felt her cheeks starting to heat up as she averted her gaze back to Lanxi.

Lanxi was getting the door for her with an easygoing smile on her face. As the door opened, she greeted her, “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lanxi.”

Keqing smiled back at her, fully prepared to act like they hadn’t met already when she was undercover at a coffee shop. “Nice to meet you. I’m Keqing.”

Lanxi looked between her and Ganyu. “Well, I’ll head out now and leave you two be. I’ll catch up with you later, Ganyu.”

Before Lanxi walked away, Keqing caught her winking at Ganyu. Keqing suppressed a laugh as she stepped further into the balcony, closing the door behind her. It was spacious with lounge chairs lined up, each surrounded by pots showcasing tall orchids of various shades of pink and purple.

“Keqing,” Ganyu said, her voice soft. It was hushed, but Keqing caught it over the soft breeze that blew past them. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” Keqing slightly leaned against the door. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Ganyu smiled, her head tilting to the side. “I should be the one saying that.”

Keqing lifted her chin. “Please say it, then.”

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Ganyu said, and she took a small step forward. “I wasn’t expecting you here. Yae had mentioned she invited you, but we weren’t sure if you’d come. I’m glad you made it.”

“Oh, you know how it is.” Keqing let go of a dramatic sigh. “I thought you might’ve been missing me just a bit.”

“I really was.” Ganyu gave a slight bow of her head. “Regardless, thank you for blessing me with your presence.”

“I was just coming by to collect my birthday gift.” Keqing smiled. “Seeing you is the best gift of all.”

“Ai would be sad to hear that,” Ganyu said, and a small laugh followed. “She told me she spent a lot of time on her gift for you.”

Keqing made a small noise of agreement. “I guess you could say that.”

She wasn’t sure how much Ganyu knew about Ai’s gift for her. She hoped it wasn’t too much. Ai had created a scrapbook, at least that was what these mortals called it, and within it had pictures of Ganyu. Within it were pictures from Keqing’s favorite movies and shows among the many that Ganyu starred in. It was in chronological order, except towards the end of it, Ai had included pictures of the two of them.

Specifically, cutouts from magazine articles with their headlines included. The gift hadn’t fazed Keqing at all.

“I have something for you too,” Ganyu said, and she pulled out a small white box from her purse. “I didn’t think you’d show up here, but I’ve been holding onto it.”

“Thank you, Ganyu,” Keqing said, her eyes widening. “You didn’t have to.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Ganyu slowly opened the box, aiming it at her. “You mentioned you lost this.”

Keqing’s eyes widened even more when she saw what it was. It was the other promise ring, the one that had seemingly disappeared. “Where did you find this?”

“I received it from one of Zhongli’s assistants. He received it from someone in Celestia. It was in Malphas’ possession,” Ganyu said, and her fingers tightened around the box.

It was at this moment that Keqing caught a glimpse of the rings on Ganyu’s fingers. She was wearing her three golden rings again. Ganyu’s promise ring rested on her fourth finger. The sight made her heart clench. Her fears of Ganyu choosing to turn away from the past they shared all seemed to dissipate, one by one.

“I don’t even want to know how he got his hands on it,” Keqing muttered, sighing. She leaned in closer to Ganyu. “Thank you for returning it to me.”

Ganyu’s smile was soft, though there was a tinge of sadness to it. “Of course. It was yours to begin with.”

Keqing grasped the box, taking it from Ganyu’s hand. She closed it gently and tucked the box away into her bag. Such a light box, and yet, she felt the heaviness in her chest. The ring signified so much between them, a glowing future together that had been stripped away from them. “I’ll never lose it again.”

“If you ever do, I promise to find it for you again.”

Keqing smiled. “That’s awfully sweet of you to say.”

“You just always seem to bring out that side of me.” Ganyu’s eyes were bright. “But I don’t mind.”

“I hope it stays that way, then.” Keqing walked forward until she was standing next to Ganyu. The house was on higher ground compared to the rest of the town. There were hundreds of buildings that glittered beneath them. Dark mountains stood in the distance, clouds shrouding their peaks.

“I also have this for you.” Ganyu held out a small pink envelope in the small distance between them. “A birthday card.”

Keqing slowly took the card in between her fingers. “Ganyu. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had a feeling it might’ve been a long time since you ever received a birthday card.”

Keqing faked a soft gasp as she carefully placed the card in her bag. “Okay. Listen. I’m not that unpopular.”

“I didn’t mean it in that way.” Ganyu shook her head rapidly. “I’m sure you’ve received countless birthday messages from all the mortals in the world.”

“I have.” Keqing smiled at the slight blush on Ganyu’s cheeks. “But yours will be my favorite.”

“That’s quite a profound statement.”

“I mean every word of it.”

Ganyu’s blush deepened. She glanced back towards the city below them. “If you mean it, then I hope you can answer a question that I have.”

“I’ll try my best to answer it.”

“Has Venti also been in contact with you?”

Keqing felt herself cringe at the name. Such a name coming out of Ganyu’s beautiful mouth felt unnatural. “What is he saying? Is he bothering you?”

“No, he isn’t. But he’s been quite invasive with his questions.”

She didn’t have to ask further to know what kind of questions he would’ve been asking. She could already hear his voice in her mind, along with the incessant questions that would come rapidly in such a quick sequence that wouldn’t allow for Ganyu to answer even one properly.

“You like Keqing, right? How much do you like her? You know of the past you shared with her, don’t you? How does that make you feel? Doesn’t it make you feel like… you want to change all of these terrible rules imposed by the rulers in Celestia, all so that you could be reunited with your one true love? What if I told you it was possible? Would you like to join forces with me, Ganyu, in what I call the Freedom Agenda?”

Keqing could imagine it all perfectly. The thought made her cringe even more. Ganyu would’ve probably been mortified.

With a sigh, Keqing said, “I’m sure he was being very bothersome. Don’t pay what he’s saying any mind. I’ll be sure to give him a talk.”

“He had a request for me,” Ganyu said. “Did he ask the same of you?”

“What kind of request?”

“I made a promise with him to never disclose what it specifically was that I did for him.” Ganyu looked apologetic. “It wasn’t a request made with ill intent, though. Venti’s very kind.”

“Your ability to talk highly of anyone amazes me, Ganyu. It truly does.” Keqing’s brows furrowed. “Whatever he asked of you, do you need my help to get out of it?”

“It has already been done. You don’t have to worry yourself.” Ganyu slightly tilted her head as she looked at the bright full moon above them. “What happens next, only time will tell.”

“Now I feel like I’m being left out of a big secret.”

Ganyu laughed. “You’ll know of it in the future. I can promise you that.”

Keqing knew it had to be in relation to the Freedom Agenda. “You really won’t tell me?”

“Venti made me promise him.”

“And if I ordered you to disregard that promise and obey me instead?”

Ganyu looked at her with an amused glint in her eyes. “I would have no choice but to obey you. But I’d like for you to trust me on it.”

Keqing paused. She had nothing to say to counter that. “I trust you. But if you ever need my assistance, know that I’m always here for you.”

“Of course.” Ganyu smiled warmly. “I don’t have any doubts about your power and influence.”

Keqing smiled back automatically. It was a reflex at this point. Seeing Ganyu’s smile was enough to make herself do the same. “Neither do I about yours. One wrong move from Venti, and I know you won’t hesitate to be vocal to your fans about what kind of person he is.”

“Oh! Speaking of my fans.” Ganyu’s hand hovered over her purse. “I have something to ask of you. You can say no after you hear it, of course.”

“What is it?”

“Director Wu reached out to me recently. He asked if it was possible for the two of us to take a video together talking about the release of the movie trailer,” Ganyu said. “The trailer’s supposed to come out at midnight.”

Keqing raised her brows. “Oh, really?”

“I completely understand if you don’t want to. The response to the video may get a little overwhelming, even. You know how the fans are.”

“Well. Why don’t we give them something to talk about, then?” Keqing asked, gesturing toward her purse. “We can take the video.”

Ganyu’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Keqing. It’ll mean a lot to him.”

“It means a lot to me, as well,” Keqing said, nodding along. “I don’t think we’ve ever taken a video together. Besides being filmed for the movie.”

“You’re completely right.” Ganyu pulled out her phone, her fingers tapping against the screen. She looked at Keqing with a gleam in her eyes. “This will be special.”

“It will.” Keqing hummed. “What do you want me to say?”

“You can say that the trailer is available to watch now. The video will probably be posted right at midnight.”

“Got it.”

Ganyu held the phone out in front of them. “Ready?”

Keqing shuffled a bit until she was right by Ganyu’s side. From this proximity, she could catch the scent of Ganyu’s perfume. It was sweet, one that was a light floral scent. “I’m ready when you are.” She gave Ganyu a thumbs-up to top it off.

Ganyu’s eyes were bright as she gave her a thumbs-up in response. “Alright. Let’s go.” Ganyu pressed the recording icon on the screen, and said, “Hi, everyone! It’s Ganyu here. You won’t believe who I have with me today.”

“Hi.” Keqing smiled awkwardly at the phone, giving it a small wave. “Nice to see you all. Well. I can’t see you. But it’s nice for you all to see me.”

It was off to a great start. Keqing wasn’t ever going to be able to nail this mortal thing. To her surprise, Ganyu didn’t even laugh at Keqing’s terrible attempt at speaking to the fans.

“We’re so happy to announce that the trailer for our movie Live for Me is finally out now. You can go give it a watch and let us know what you think!”

“We hope you enjoy it. And we hope you’re just as excited for the movie as we are,” Keqing said. She was immensely proud of herself for coming up with those words.

“We’ll see you soon enough in the theaters!” Ganyu said, waving as she tapped on the screen to end the video. Once she did, she turned to Keqing with a laugh. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry. It was kind of bad, wasn’t it? Do you want to retake it?”

“No, no. It was perfect.” Ganyu slid the phone back into her purse. “Thank you again.”

She realized Ganyu was a wonderful liar. But she also realized that there was a high likelihood that Ganyu wasn’t lying. “You don’t have to thank me. I hope Director Wu won’t be the one to tell you to retake it.”

“No, he won’t. He’ll love it.”

Keqing made a small noise of agreement. “Knowing the person he is, he probably will.”

There was a knock on the door behind them. Both of them turned around, and Keqing was surprised to see who it was. This woman was tall, with a deep shade of long purple hair and bright purple eyes. She wore a black satin dress, one that was nearly identical in design to what Yae was wearing.

It was Beelzebul. She looked between them once and said, “I’m so sorry to interrupt. May I steal her away for a moment, Ganyu?”

Keqing was slightly irked to have her presence be required away from Ganyu. But the annoyance quickly faded away when she saw the softness in Ganyu’s eyes.

Ganyu smiled at Beelzebul, and to Keqing, she said, “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll come find you after,” Keqing said, giving her a small wave as she walked towards Beelzebul. It was a promise she made to both herself and Ganyu.

Beelzebul led her away to a different door right across the hall. “Thank you for coming tonight. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”

Keqing shook her head. “No need to thank me. I should be the one thanking you for having me, Beelzebul.”

“Please, call me Ei. I no longer go by that name.” The former goddess held the door open, allowing Keqing to slip inside as she then let it close behind them. “It’s wonderful to officially meet you. Happy birthday.”

Keqing’s gaze swept across the room they were in. There were bookcases surrounding them on the walls of the room. At the center was a long wooden table with a single vase of flowers. Above their heads was a large window, one that showed stars that glittered.

“Thank you.” She looked at Ei. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Ei had a warm smile on her face. “I’ve always wanted to meet you. But you were a hard one to get in touch with. You don’t visit the mortal realm often, do you?”

Keqing shook her head. “No. This is my first time down here in centuries, actually.”

“I apologize that it took me so long to finally introduce myself to you. I haven’t stepped foot in Celestia since I cut my ties with them many years ago,” Ei said, her brows slightly drawn together. “This is why I asked to speak with you. Forgive me if it sounds like I’m being intrusive.”

There were hundreds of guesses from gods and mortals alike about Ei’s departure from Celestia. Some were romantic, focusing on the fact that Ei had chosen to do so after the Elders allegedly disapproved of her relationship with Yae. Most thought that Ei had gotten entangled in a tedious fight with the Elders due to various issues, ultimately resulting in her leaving and wanting nothing more do with any of the Celestial matters.

Keqing made a noise of understanding. “That makes sense. I was wondering why I was getting an invite from Yae out of nowhere.”

Ei laughed. “Oh, no, she did that on her own will. Trust me. She has a mind of her own.”

“I believe that.”

“I wanted to remind you something about the Divine Elders,” Ei said, her voice lowering. The humor on her face had disappeared in an instant. Her purple eyes were sharp as she continued, “Be wary of your choices in the mortal realm. Many of the gods have grown to dismiss the Elders. But always remember that they are the ones our powers stem from. Any powers and abilities we have been blessed with, they are more than capable of.”

Keqing paused, taking a moment to consider what was being said before replying, “I have never heard of them doing such things in the past. But I’ll keep this in mind, thank you.”

“I don’t know all of the details of your relationship with Ganyu, but I want the best for you two,” Ei said. “Ganyu has been our good friend for so many years. It’s wonderful to see her so happy. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen her, in fact.”

“She deserves to be happy,” Keqing agreed. “But I’m not sure what consequences I may face if I continue to take that route.”

With a small hum, Ei said, “Venti has been in contact with me about his plans for the future.”

Keqing wasn’t surprised by that. It seemed like Venti truly was broadcasting this to the whole world at this point. He hadn’t been lying about gathering the support of nearly every god to exist.

“I can’t be very involved in what he’s doing as I am no longer tied up in any of the affairs in Celestia,” Ei said, her tone sounding regretful. “But if you need anything, know that you can reach out to me whenever.”

“We’ve only just met, but you’re so kind to me.” Keqing offered her a small smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Ei smiled back at her. “You’re very welcome, Keqing. Happy birthday.” With a slight spin of her feet, she gestured towards the door. “That’s all I wished to discuss with you. Let me bring you back to Ganyu.”

“Thank you for looking out for me,” Keqing said, following Ei as they left the room. “I hope we’ll cross paths again.”

“I’m sure we will. We see Ganyu often. I’m assuming we’ll all run into each other more in the future,” Ei replied.

As they walked back towards the balcony, Keqing felt her footsteps slightly quicken in hopes of seeing Ganyu even a second faster. She was still there, sitting as she looked beyond the city. Her head turned towards them as Keqing’s fingers tugged on the door handle, slowly pulling it back open.

“You’re back,” Ganyu said, standing up with a big smile.

Keqing turned to see if Ei was there, but there was no trace of her. She faced Ganyu again. “I’m back. Quicker than I thought.”

“I have to show you something.” Ganyu waved her forward. “Do you see that?”

As she walked forward, Keqing looked to where Ganyu’s finger was pointing at. It was hard to miss. There were glowing lanterns below, near a body of water that she assumed was Qingce River. Each lantern was a dim shade of red, and it appeared to be the classic heart-shaped lanterns people lit up on her birthday. There had to be hundreds.

“That’s beautiful.” Keqing smiled. She knew what each lantern had written on them. The name of their loved ones. Some people managed to write prayers on them, as well. It just meant more work for her, but with Ganyu pointing it out, she couldn’t find it within her to be bitter in the slightest.

Ganyu’s voice was soft and sweet as she said, “Happy birthday, Keqing.”

Keqing’s gaze drifted from the lanterns to Ganyu. It was the third time Ganyu had wished her a happy birthday today. And yet, each time she said it, it sounded as magical as the first time. The smile on her face grew bigger, enough to make her cheeks start to hurt.

It was the sweetest birthday, the most memorable of all.

➵ ✩

Dear Keqing,

I wish you the happiest birthday ever. It’s what you deserve! Thank you for blessing the world with your existence. With every breath that you take, we are so lucky to have you here with us. I hope this birthday stands out to you as one of your best! May you enjoy the Golden Shrimp Balls I sent to your doorstep. It’s from the most famous restaurant around here!

After living through so many birthdays in this world, they start to lose the excitement that surrounds it. But I hope today is still extra special to you than the other days that may blur into each other. Life’s all about the joy that we can find in the small things, anyway.

We once spoke of what makes each other happy. A lot of aspects in life can provide happiness, whether it be joyous moments, favorite treats, or beautiful sceneries. But I’m so lucky to say that being able to meet you again has been one of the best things to ever happen to me. I’m filled with true happiness when I think of the fact that you’ve become a part of my life once more.

Just as how you’ve given me so much happiness, I hope the same for you. You’re a wonderful person, goddess and all. I thank Celestia every day for your beautiful, divine existence. You deserve only the best.

So with that, again I say, happy birthday, Keqing. Thank you for all that you have done for the world, and for me.

Now, the next part of my birthday letter is addressed to someone who’s absolutely just as special.

Dear Ferthur,

Again, happy birthday! On a day that we use to celebrate love, I find it fitting to thank you for all of the everlasting relationships you have bestowed upon me in this lifetime. While I know you are involved in matchmaking romantic love, on a day we use to celebrate all kinds of affection, I thank you for the wonderful types of platonic love you’ve allowed me to share with so many. But above all, I thank you for helping me realize my ancient heart is still capable of beating faster when I see the one who has always meant the most to me.

Thank you for teaching me how to feel such strong emotions once more. In my long life, never did I think I’d stumble across someone to make me feel this way. Although it’s too much to ask, I can’t help but wish to spend forever with this person. It may be a selfish request, but I can’t help but dream of it every night.

Please always know that for you, I would do absolutely anything.

Sincerely,
Your Ganyu

➵ ✩

JUST IN: NEW VIDEO OF GANYU AND KEQING PROMOTING “LIVE FOR ME” IN LIGHT OF NEW TRAILER

Tonight, we bring you exciting new content tailored for our special Ganqing fans, which happens to be a vast majority of the world right now. If you had to look up what Ganqing meant, let’s just assume that you’ve been living under a rock for the past six months. Perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration, but the statement still stands. The two were captured together in a video posted by the superstar Ganyu herself, both speaking of the release of the very first trailer for their upcoming movie “Live for Me.”

Enough of your imagination as you read those words. We’ll leave you to the video. You can view it here. Take a look at what fans had to say:

#GANYU SUPREMACY (@happyhappyganyu):
ARE WE ALL SEEING THIS? we are being so well fed tonight. with the cute video they took together, ALONG WITH THAT AMAZING TRAILER? the trailer doesn’t give too much away about the movie, which just makes it insanely better. oh my god that split second of ganqing looking at each other in that trailer was amazing.

average ganqing enjoyer (@liveformeee):
WOOOOOOOOW. i’m currently trying to figure out how to make that cute short vid my wallpaper on all of my devices. does anyone have any tips? i’ve been trying for the past 20 minutes!

Keqing’s #1 Supporter :) (@sweetkeqing):
They look absolutely stunning in that new short clip. I could look at them talking together for hours, honestly. The trailer was absolutely gorgeous! I might need them to star in every single movie together from this point forward.

Just a humble egg (@eggyolkishealthy):
This year so far has been full of new surprises. From the introduction of Keqing as a new purple-haired newbie addition to this movie, to all of those shaky pictures of them being caught together outside of the set, and now with the official trailer being released… They look super good and happy together too. I’m so happy for them. May this movie win all the awards.

Ganyu’s girlfriend (@ganyusmiles_ismile):
Today’s been a beautiful day, Ganqing nation. Our crops have been fully watered! The sun is shining through the window to offer light onto our plants. We are being fed so well. Now, I don’t know how I’ll survive the movie. I can’t even survive a short video of them together.

Stay tuned for more updates.

Chapter Text

A week and a half had passed since her birthday, and Keqing was still suffering the consequences of the mortals’ celebrations of her birth.

Nearly two weeks, and yet, her prayer queue didn’t seem to think even a day had passed. The catch-up work was endless. Prayer after prayer that she sorted through, she was only swamped with twice the amount.

Keqing stared at the older woman in the bubble in front of her. The woman was knitting by a lake, and she was surrounded by ducks that came by to keep her company. She looked to be in her seventies. The older folk would pray to her from time to time. Some were people who had gone their whole lives without praying to her, and now they were seeking their long lost love before it was too late. And then, there were others who sought her blessings after their loved ones had left the world.

This lady fell into the former category. For most of her life, she’d been busy holing herself in her work as a chemistry researcher. She’d often envied those around her who had partners and children, and yet she’d never sought out such love for herself. Until today.

Of course, it had to be today of all days, when Keqing was still carrying out her punishment in the mortal realm without Infinity System. She knew it wasn’t this lady’s fault. Of course, it wasn’t. It was just her stellar luck.

“Keqing.” Ai was at the doorway of the room, her hand raised in a wave.

“This lady is alone. No friends, no family. She only has five cats,” Keqing said, giving the bubble a small spin with her finger. “Her only hobby is going to the beach and picking out rocks. That’s all she does every weekend.”

Ai’s brows were raised. “Is there anything else we can work with?”

“No. I guess I just need to find another rock lover, and we’ll go from there.”

“Okay. Believe it or not, I might happen to know one,” Ai said, her eyes lighting up. She raised a finger in the air. “I’ll be right back.”

“Please.” Keqing buried her head in her arms. “Someone save me from this misery.”

“Don’t give up! I have just the person,” said Ai, her voice starting to grow quieter as it echoed further along the hall. “Just you wait.”

Keqing waited in silence as she waited for Ai to return and be her savior of the day. Ai later strolled in with a big smile on her face as she hugged a folder to her chest.

“I printed everything right now for you.” Ai set the white folder on her desk. “Thank you for your patience.”

Keqing grabbed the folder, quickly opening it and displaying the contents within. There had to be at least ten pieces of paper in here. The first page was a news article with a big picture of sand by the water at a beach. On the sand, there were shiny rocks placed down in the shape of a heart. Keqing was a little confused.

The title of the article read, “Beaches with the best view to watch sunsets with your lover.”

It wasn’t helpful at all. Keqing wasn’t the one who would be planning dates for this lady. She let out a small sigh as she flipped the page, uncovering what was next.

The next one was clearly an advertisement. It showed a shimmery transparent pouch with a variety of blue gemstones. Keqing lifted her gaze, and she saw Ai’s bright eyes and her big grin. That grin only meant that she was up to no good.

Another soft sigh escaped Keqing’s lips as she turned the page to reveal a different photo of the same stone advertisement. Ganyu was holding the bag in her right hand as she wore a bright smile on her face. She looked beautiful, of course, as she always did.

Did seeing Ganyu in the middle of her hectic day make her feel better? Absolutely. It was fascinating how one smile from Ganyu could make the weight of the world feel less heavy on the shoulders. If someone could bottle up her smile and use it as medicine, Keqing was sure it would be potent enough to cure even the most deadly of illnesses out there.

But that was besides the point. Keqing turned the page again, and here she saw a picture of a man who, based on the description provided to the right, was the owner of the gemstone company that Ganyu had advertised. The text itself revealed that he was also a man in his seventies.

“Thanks, Ai. Not sure if the Ganyu ad was necessary, but thanks.” Keqing closed the folder, standing up as she stretched her arms. “I’ll get around to this in a bit.”

“Have you picked out Ganyu’s birthday gift?”

The reminder gave her a small jolt. Ganyu’s birthday was in just two days. She’d been preparing her gift. Everything had been finalized, except she was now waiting for Venti to get her something from her home in Celestia.

The God of Freedom was taking all the time he needed to get back to her on the request. Truly. Keqing imagined him taking the most leisurely stroll to ever exist in Celestia, whistling with a pep in his step as he walked with no care in the world. The fact that she could imagine it so clearly and effortlessly gave her the worst kind of goosebumps.

“Her gift’s almost done,” Keqing said.

“You’re still not going to tell me what it is?”

“No. I have a feeling whatever I tell you, it’ll be told right to Chuyu. Word could get around.”

Ai huffed. “I have to let you know that I’m a very good keeper of secrets.”

“Let it be a surprise to you, then.” Keqing smiled. “It’ll keep you on your toes too, won’t it?”

With a small sigh of defeat, Ai said, “Alright. It better be good.”

➵ ✩

Venti arrived the next day. It was the night before Ganyu’s birthday, which made Keqing think that he was intentionally arriving so late.

His arrival was done in a similar fashion as his previous surprise appearance in Celestia. He showed up at her balcony door. It was better than the window, but still, it was an interesting choice. He was perfectly capable of showing up at the actual front door of her apartment, but he always preferred such peculiar methods of entry.

Keqing opened the door with an unconcealed look of exasperation. “Finally.”

“Hello to you too,” Venti said, a cheeky smile on his face as he bowed his head slightly. “How are you doing on this fine night?”

“Oh, you know. Just the same as always.” Keqing waved him inside. “Come on in.”

Venti stepped inside with the same big smile on his face. He glanced around, his eyes widening. “You’ve got a nice place for yourself! Mind if I come by more often?”

“Only if you bring gifts, sure.”

“Aha.” Venti’s eyes lit up as he plopped himself down on the couch. He held out his palm, and that was when it appeared in the blink of an eye. A golden hairpin shone under the bright light. “Here you go.”

Keqing slowly took the hairpin between her fingers. There was a blue glaze lily at the end of it, with soft blue and white colors that gave the rest of the gold hairpin a pretty contrast. Three thin tassels hung from the glaze lilies. “Thank you, Venti.”

“Of course. I’m sorry it took so long.” Venti cleared his throat. “Ipos was guarding your palace like it was her child. I tried to keep my operation a secret, but she needed the truth for me to let her inside. It’s impossible to try and lie to her.”

“Lying to her isn’t exactly the best idea.”

“Oh, I know. She managed to bring up a lot of my history,” Venti said, a sheepish smile on his face as he scratched his head. “But that’s okay. We live and we learn, right?”

“We do.” Keqing placed the hairpin onto the counter as she turned to him with a curious look. “How is it going with your whole plan?”

Venti looked at her innocently. “What plan?”

“The list of complaints that you’re preparing.”

“Oh, the Freedom Agenda.” Venti nodded. “Yes.”

“The Freedom Agenda,” Keqing repeated, her brows slightly raising. “Right.”

“It’s what we’ve always been calling it.” Venti clasped his fingers together as he proudly smiled. “I’ll have you know that we’re almost done. I’ve been working with Ipos to plan a date for the hearing.”

“Will it be after my temporary banishment from Celestia ends?”

Venti shook his head. “The Divine Elders are rumored to enter dormancy again. We need to do it sooner than later.”

Keqing felt the hope within her simmer a bit. “Oh, I see.”

“But don’t worry. I’ll see if I can livestream it for you,” Venti said, placing a hand on her shoulder assuringly.

“The Higher Rulers forbid any sort of photos or videos being taken,” Keqing reminded him.

Venti removed his hand, a look of realization dawning upon his face. “I forgot.”

“Should we really be trusting this Freedom Agenda in your hands?” Keqing asked him, and Venti clutched his chest. “I’m only half-joking.”

Venti sighed. “I’ll do my best for you.”

“Do you know how soon the Elders are supposed to begin their dormant period?”

“There’s varying opinions. But I may have pestered Orobas to get a possible hint from him. He was dodging all of my questions, but he started to reveal a pattern in his elusive answers,” Venti said. “I was smart enough to figure it out.”

“When’s it supposed to be?”

“I’m not sure exactly. But he told me that the best time to hold this hearing would be within the next four weeks. So I’m assuming that’s all the time we have.” Venti sighed. “Who knows when they’ll wake again. Orobas wouldn’t budge on that question.”

“You need to stop bothering that poor man.” Keqing shook her head. While she was remaining calm, her heart was starting to race from the anticipation of what was to come. A month from now, she’d know what the results would be. Whether the Elders would make amendments to the Heavenly Principles, or simply slip into dormancy without giving anyone another moment of their precious time.

“Oh, don’t worry. He actually considers me his closest friend.”

Keqing raised a brow. She immediately thought of a snarky comment, but she bit it back. “That’s a very good friend to have, then.”

“You know it.” Venti winked. “Alright. I have someone to meet in a few minutes. I’ll see you around.”

Before Keqing could open her mouth to thank him, Venti disappeared without a trace. It was a much more graceful way to leave than slipping out through her window like the last time.

As the silence of the room surrounded her, Keqing closed her grasp on the hairpin in her hand. She took a deep breath. Hope was a dangerous thing to hold onto. The disappointment that would follow would hurt so much, but it was already too late for her. Hope had already planted itself in her heart and bloomed within her, a small flower that just grew and grew and grew.

➵ ✩

Keqing’s hand hesitated above the white door. Her hand was closed in a fist, about a few centimeters away from knocking against the door. She heard a quiet violin coming from within the house, along with a soft eruption of laughter. She slowly lowered her hand.

There was no reason for her to be this hesitant. But the fact that she was about to enter Ganyu’s home for the first time made her a little nervous. Not just a little, even. It made her very nervous. It was ridiculous. She was acting like a timid, young mortal girl who’d never known the touch of another. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure if there was much of a difference.

But that was when the door flung open. A pair of golden eyes focused on her, and a grin followed.

“Keqing, welcome!” Aether stepped aside, gesturing towards the area within. “I was just about to step out for a second. Come on in!”

“Aether, hi! It’s great to see you.” Keqing took a small step inside, taking in her surroundings. From the outside, she could already tell that Ganyu lived in a large modern-style home, and the inside was just as impressive.

From here, she could see down the hall to the glimpse of the living room ahead. There were large windows ahead, showing sparkles of the city below, and there she was. Ganyu was standing right next to one of the windows, her back turned to Keqing as she held a glass of wine.

Ganyu turned around in an instant, her eyes widening a bit. A smile instantly broke out on her face.

“I’ll be back,” Aether said. “With Xiao.”

Keqing nodded, but she said no word as she started to make her way toward Ganyu. If this was any other moment where Ganyu wasn’t in front of her, perhaps the mention of Xiao’s name would’ve caused an immediate reaction within her. But this was different.

Ganyu looked stunning. It was no surprise, really, but to her, it felt like one each and every time. She wore a silk maroon top with a small white bow. The long black pants she was wearing looked just as good on her. Whatever Ganyu wore, she effortlessly made it seem like she was the model of a magazine cover.

“Keqing.” Ganyu set down her glass and started to walk closer to her. “Welcome.”

Before Ganyu could get to her, someone else did. Ganyu’s big, fluffy dog, in fact. He nearly tackled himself into Keqing’s legs.

Keqing took a few steps backwards as she laughed in surprise. She lowered a hand to ruffle the dog’s white fur. “Yun.”

“He likes you a lot.” Ganyu beamed.

Yun excitedly wagged his tail as he stared up at Keqing. He was fairly quiet, never barking at her ever since she’d entered the home.

“He takes after his owner, I guess.” Keqing smiled, and it was worth it to see the slight blush on Ganyu’s cheeks. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” Ganyu slightly bowed her head. “Thank you for coming.”

All Keqing wanted to do was to raise her chin back up and kiss those lips just one more time. But her own self-control impressed her. Keqing compromised with herself by giving Ganyu a hug.

Keqing was close enough that her chin was resting on Ganyu’s shoulder. The sweet scent of her perfume reached her nose. “How could I not? Thank you for having me.”

“You’ve just made my entire day.” Ganyu’s embrace tightened. “Just as a fair warning, a few of my other friends are here as well. Ei, Yae, and Shenhe couldn’t make it, but Ningguang and Beidou are here.”

As she slowly and regrettably pulled away from the embrace, Keqing gave her a curious look. “A warning?”

“You’ve already met Beidou once. I’m sure you know how she can be,” Ganyu said, her voice lowering a fraction. “That was even before all of the news about us broke out. The way she acts now will be worse.”

“It’s okay,” Keqing replied, squeezing her shoulder in assurance. She cracked a small smile. “I’ve dealt with much worse.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But Beidou is on another level.” Ganyu waved her to the living room. “Lumine’s here, and Aether, who you already saw. That’s it. Oh, and Aether just left to go get Xiao.”

Keqing held back anything unpleasant she had to say about Xiao. This was Ganyu’s birthday, after all. She deserved to have some peace tonight without listening to Keqing’s complaints.

Ganyu looked behind her. “Did Ai not come along?”

“She already had plans tonight,” Keqing said, thinking of Ai’s sewing date with Chuyu tonight. It was one of their traditions at the end of every week.

Although Ai refused to call it a date, Keqing knew what it was.

“That’s no problem. Tell her I said hi later,” Ganyu said, with a sweet smile that almost had Keqing tripping over her feet.

As they walked into the living room, the first person Keqing saw was Lumine. She jumped up, her eyes bright as she ran over and wrapped her in a hug.

“It’s been forever!” Lumine pulled away from the embrace with a grin. “How have you been?”

“Good! Just busy. And you?”

“Oh, Aether and I have been taking some time off from acting to travel the world. I know we’re immortal and all, but there’s still never enough of the world to see.” Lumine gave Ganyu an amused glance. “We tried to convince Ganyu to come along with us. But she refused.”

“You asked me with only a week’s notice,” Ganyu reminded her.

“I did.” Lumine smiled widely at her. “But I don’t think it would’ve changed if it were a year’s notice.”

“Well—”

Lumine had her phone pulled out in a heartbeat. “You said, ‘I’m sorry, Lumine. I have matters to tend to, and someone I can’t leave behind right now.’”

Before Keqing could respond, someone else beat her to it. Beidou appeared, her sleek hair swaying above her waist as she slung an arm around Lumine’s shoulders. “And who is that special someone?”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to tease me like this on my birthday of all days,” Ganyu said, and though she wore a pout, she sounded resigned to her fate.

Beidou winked at Keqing. “Nice to see you, kiddo.”

Keqing’s eyebrows raised at that. “That’s a new one.”

“She calls everyone a kiddo.” Lumine sighed as she shook off Beidou’s arm. “You could be older than her and she’d still call you a kiddo.”

Ganyu continued to smile, although it looked a little painful. “Beidou. Where did Ningguang go?”

“She went to the top floor to go outside. Apparently, your fans set up a huge billboard nearby to celebrate your birthday, and it’s close enough so that you could see it from here.” Beidou turned around and pointed at the windows. “We couldn’t see it from this side. So she went to see if it’s on the other side.”

“Oh, that’s sweet! We were waiting for Keqing to come so that we could eat the cake.” Lumine started to make her way towards the end of the room, where there was a large spiraling staircase. “I’ll bring her.”

“You could just text her.”

“Actually, Beidou, you can come with me.” Lumine waved her forward. “Let’s go bring your wife down.”

“I can just text her,” Beidou said, pulling out her phone and holding it in the air.

Lumine walked back to her, a look of disbelief on her face as she grabbed Beidou by the wrist and pulled her toward the stairs. “Let’s go together.”

Beidou seemed to resist at first, but with another yank from Lumine, she started to quickly walk back to her. She nodded along and said, “You’re right. I must go get my wife. She might be lost up there.”

Keqing watched as Lumine and Beidou hurriedly went up the stairs. It was painfully obvious that Lumine was just trying to get Keqing some time alone with Ganyu. But she appreciated the thought nevertheless.

“Did you hear about this billboard as well?” Keqing asked, and Ganyu shook her head. “That’s nice, though. You deserve all of those billboards.”

“It’s a nice gesture. But I don’t need all of that attention on my birthday,” Ganyu said, laughing softly. “Let me go get the birthday cake from the fridge.”

“I’ll help you.”

As Keqing followed Ganyu into the long hall that led to the kitchen, she found her eyes catching on the paintings that hung on the walls. There were several ones that were old ink paintings of ancient Liyue, much like a few of the ones that she had back home in Celestia. There was even a long scroll at the end of the hall, with ancient calligraphy written in ink.

Keqing briefly paused to skim through it. She hadn’t read through a text like this, from top to bottom and right to left, in centuries. Whoever wrote this had written this letter for their lover. It was a letter that described loving someone tremendously, to the extent where they wrote that they would travel to the ends of the world to save them if they were ever to be in danger.

“Who wrote this?” Keqing asked, glancing at Ganyu. Ganyu was in front of the fridge, pulling a white box out of it. “This looks like it could be kept for preservation at a museum.”

“Do you think it’s good enough for that?” Ganyu asked.

“It’s beautifully written. It sure would be as great as whatever else they have already.” Keqing walked over to Ganyu, taking the stack of plates and utensils that she’d placed onto the counter. “Where did you get it from?”

“So, don’t be too surprised,” Ganyu said, hugging the box of cake to her chest as she walked out of the kitchen, “but I’m the one that wrote it. That’s my handwriting.”

“Oh.” Keqing took a long glance at the scroll before she followed Ganyu through the hall. “You’re a wonderful writer, Ganyu.”

“I don’t deserve any of that praise. I’d have to thank my muse.”

Keqing paused in her step. She frowned. “Your muse.”

Ganyu only gave her a small smile over her shoulder. Before they could continue their conversation, someone came running down the stairs. Her white long hair was nearly flying behind them. The woman wore a long black dress, and she excitedly held her phone up in the air for Ganyu.

“I found the billboard for you, Ganyu. I could see it perfectly upstairs.” Ningguang stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening as she saw Keqing. “It’s you.”

It was her first time meeting Ningguang, but Keqing’s mind was still caught up on the fact that Ganyu had a muse for that love letter. There was a chance that the muse was Keqing herself. But it was also very likely that it could’ve been someone else that Ganyu had loved before Keqing had entered her life.

That was very much a possibility. A frightening one, in fact.

Beidou and Lumine came down the stairs right behind her. Lumine was slightly panting as she complained, “Ningguang! Why did you have to run so fast?”

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Ningguang said, taking the plates from Keqing’s hands. “Ganyu hasn’t ever been able to stop mentioning you to us.”

Beidou took the plates from Ningguang’s hands and set them down on the table. “She even looks prettier in person, doesn’t she?”

“She does.” Ningguang folded her arms together. “But I have some questions for you.”

“Ningguang,” Ganyu said, sounding a bit mortified as she took the cake out of the box. It was a pretty cake, one with lilac frosting and white flowers decorated across the top of it.

“Let’s not do this today,” Beidou chimed in, and despite the serious tone of her voice, the slight curve to her lips suggested otherwise. “What a pretty cake.”

“We’ll get ready to sing the birthday song,” Lumine said, glancing at her watch. “What’s taking Aether so long to get Xiao?”

“I hope the two of them ran away together to live a happy life,” said Beidou, and Ningguang gave her a look. “What?”

“As I’ve told you before, those two are a bad mix,” Ningguang replied, and that was when there was the soft noise of a door closing. “That must be them.”

Was there someone else who had come along in Ganyu’s life before Keqing? There was no way for her to know right now. Would it be immature of her to ask Ganyu? If it had ever happened, it would’ve been such a long time ago. But the thought of Ganyu writing those sweet words that were dripping in love, all for someone else?

This time, she decided it was more than frightening. She was too preoccupied to even care for the way Xiao was giving her a not-so-subtle frown the whole time when he appeared beside Aether. But she took notice of the fact that the two contrasted each other so much. Too much. Aether’s cheerful personality with that grin on his face was almost eerie when he was next to the brooding Xiao.

“Alright, let me turn off the lights. Everyone, get prepared to sing!” Lumine said as she lit the last of the three candles on the cake.

As soon as the room became dark, everyone started to sing along. Keqing was right next to Ganyu, who clapped along with a soft smile on her face. The light of the candles created shadows that danced across Ganyu’s pretty features. Keqing found herself staring as she sang along.

When the song came to a stop, Aether still clapped along, saying, “Are you one? Are you two?”

“Aether. Please,” Xiao said, and Aether wiped away a smudge of frosting on his lips with a finger. Xiao only turned beet red in response.

Xiao blushing was a sight that Keqing thought she’d never see. And she wasn’t sure if she liked it.

“Thank you all,” Ganyu said, her hands on her chest as she sighed. “You truly know how to make this old lady here so happy.”

“Hold on.” Beidou’s phone was out. “Let me get a picture of you and Keqing for the memories.”

“Oh!” Lumine nodded. “Aether, get out of the frame.”

“A ‘please’ would be nice,” Aether grumbled as he shuffled to the side.

Keqing smiled at the camera, tilting her head toward Ganyu. At that moment, Yun jumped up, his paws on the table as he snuggled himself between her and Ganyu. Beidou grinned like a proud mother when she looked at the results. Lumine turned the lights on again, and Keqing made direct eye contact with Xiao as he had his cheeks stuffed with cake.

It took a great amount of effort to suppress her laugh, but she was successful.

➵ ✩

It was just Keqing and Ganyu left, sitting next to each other on a couch.

Everyone else had left in a rush. It all happened too quickly to the point where it was unnatural and suspicious. They’d all left one after the other, in a procession, even with Xiao not having finished his second plate of cake. He’d left begrudgingly with his plate, having been dragged away by Aether’s tight grasp on his arm.

“So…” Keqing’s voice trailed off as Ganyu looked at her expectantly. “That cake was delicious.”

Ganyu grinned. “It really was, wasn’t it? Beidou got it from her friend’s bakery. It’s always so good.”

“That friend sure is, uh, a good baker,” Keqing agreed, and Ganyu’s brows moved up the slightest amount. “I can only wish I could make cakes as good as them.”

“Keqing.”

“Yes?”

“Is there any chance that you’re nervous right now?”

Keqing blinked. “Me?”

Ganyu let out a small laugh. “Your leg’s been shaking for the past five minutes.”

Keqing looked down, and she regretfully realized that it was true and placed a hand over her knee. She stopped the restlessness of her leg. “Oh. I don’t know what came over me.”

“If you’re nervous, you’re not alone.” Ganyu smiled, and there was a sudden squeak of a dog toy. Yun came running over with a toy in his mouth. With no hesitation, Ganyu took the toy he dropped in front of her and threw it across the room.

As Ganyu looked away, Keqing put a hand behind her back. She felt a slightly heavy object materialize in her grasp. By the time Ganyu was looking her way again, Keqing was holding out a bouquet towards her. It was a rose bouquet, except there were small Qingxin flowers scattered throughout. It was big enough to entirely cover her view of Ganyu’s face, which was necessary right now, because, well, there was no need for an explanation.

There was a soft gasp from Ganyu. “Keqing. Where did you get this from? I didn’t see you walk in with this.”

“A goddess can never reveal her secrets.”

“That’s very true.” Ganyu took the bouquet from her, lowering it as she laughed in delight. “This is absolutely beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“I have something else for you too.”

“You really didn’t have to,” Ganyu said, and she looked curiously when Keqing held out a plum-colored box that shone under the light. “What’s this?”

“A music box.” Keqing watched as Ganyu lifted the lid. “I hope you like it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ganyu said, her tone hushed as she started to wind the small handle to its side. As she did, the device started to play its short song.

It was a song from the past, Lovers’ Oath.

“I thought it was the song that was most fitting,” said Keqing.

“I absolutely love it.” Ganyu’s gaze shifted from the music box to her. “Thank you, Keqing. I’ll be sure to play it every night before bed.”

Keqing smiled. “That’s an honor.”

“It’s to make up for the lack of your presence,” Ganyu said as she set down the music box on the table next to the bouquet.

It took a moment for the words to register in Keqing’s mind. When it all clicked, Keqing didn’t even know how to respond. Her mind had gone completely blank. She remembered she had to say something and opened her mouth. What ended up slipping out was, “Oh.”

Just that. Words were failing to reach her today. It was a shame she wasn’t the Goddess of Eloquence. Being the Goddess of Love wasn’t very useful to her.

“It’s so lovely,” Ganyu said as the music box continued to sing for them. “Thank you. I know I’ve said that already. But I’ll keep saying it.”

Keqing’s brain was still registering what Ganyu said just a few seconds ago. What followed next was her delayed response as she said, “You don’t have to play the music box tonight to make up for my presence.”

Ganyu looked at her in surprise.

“If you want,” Keqing said, the words tumbling out of her mouth awkwardly.

“I did impose on you last time, after all, when you let me stay the night,” Ganyu said, starting to nod. “I suppose it would only be fair.”

Having not expected Ganyu to agree so easily, Keqing had no idea how to respond. Keqing gulped as Ganyu smiled innocently at her.

“Okay.” Keqing let out a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. She held out her hand to Ganyu, watching as a small gift wrapped in a white handkerchief appeared. “Here is your last gift.”

While Ganyu was responding to this gift, Keqing figured she’d take the time to further process the situation. As Ganyu took the gift into her hands, Keqing willed herself to stay calm. It was just another night with Ganyu. Nothing at all to freak out about. She was a mature woman with nearly three millenia’s worth of life experience.

But to the Goddess of Love, this would be yet another Big Life Event that she would never get over.

Ganyu let out a soft gasp as she uncovered the gift. The golden hairpin sat on her hand, and she lifted it to hold it in the air. “Oh, Keqing. You still have this?”

“You found my ring for my birthday,” Keqing said. “I had to return what was once yours too.”

Ganyu held the hairpin closer to her chest. “Thank you, Keqing.”

There was a twinge in her chest. These hairpins were engagement gifts that they’d given to each other. They were the very embodiment of their love promises, ones that had ended up falling apart. “I hope you keep it safe like the way you’re preserving that love letter in the hall.”

Ganyu grinned. “I will. I’ll actually take better care of this gift than the letter.”

“Is the letter….” Keqing faltered, the words stopping in her mouth as she couldn’t figure out how to ask this question. “Who was it written for?”

“Can you take a guess?”

“How many people am I choosing from?”

Ganyu laughed. “Did you think there would be more than one?”

“I didn’t want to deny the possibility,” Keqing said. “You have all of the ideal characteristics someone would want in a lover.”

Ganyu raised a brow. “Like what?”

Keqing reached into her bag, pulling out a card. “Here. I kind of go into that in your birthday card.”

Ganyu smiled as she took the card. “Thank you, Keqing.”

With a smile right back at her, Keqing said, “Happy birthday, Ganyu.”

“To answer your question, there’s only been one.”

Yun came running back, his tail wagging as he dropped a toy in front of Keqing. Keqing ruffled the top of his head as she threw the toy across the room, her mind starting to dance around the fact that the love letter had been beautifully written for her. Yun barked happily as he ran across the room. In that moment, Keqing even dared to imagine what life would be like, here in this home with Ganyu and Yun.

➵ ✩

Keqing:
Ai, I won’t be coming home tonight.

Ai:
What the…? Why not?

Keqing:
It’s too far of a commute back home in the darkness.

Ai:
You literally teleported there tonight, but okay.
Don’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble.

Keqing:
Noted.

➵ ✩

“We have a few guest rooms,” Ganyu said, her hands behind her back as she stopped in the middle of the hallway. “But you are welcome to stay in mine if you’d like.”

“You can decide,” Keqing replied. “It’s your birthday.”

Ganyu smiled. “But I don’t want to force you into any kind of situation if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“With you? Never.” Keqing tapped her chin with a finger. “But with the way you’re saying that, I’m assuming you want me to spend the night in your room.”

“If that’s your conclusion, I guess it’s correct. Anything a god says must be true.”

“Now, I wouldn’t say that’s always the case–”

“But in this case, we’ll say it is.” Ganyu laughed softly as she stopped in front of a door. She pushed it open, revealing her room.

It was quite big, with a simplistic theme. There was a bed, a few tall plants by the window, and one corner had the wardrobe with a desk by it. At the foot of Ganyu’s bed was a dog bed, one that Yun walked over to and plopped himself down on. He stared expectantly at them as his tail continued to wag.

“You can feel free to take the bed to yourself,” Ganyu said, waving towards it with a sheepish smile. “I can sleep in a different room.”

Keqing looked at her. “Ganyu. Now that I don’t have a god chasing after me, you don’t worry for me?”

“I always worry about you,” Ganyu replied, a glint of humor in her eyes as she tilted her head. “Every day.”

“Then won’t you look after me tonight too?”

A soft smile played across Ganyu’s lips. “I will.” Then, a dramatic sigh followed. “My goddess can be so needy at times.”

“I have a lot of unfilled needs,” Keqing agreed.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they got into the bed. The nerves from earlier had somewhat disappeared. This all felt so right, as if her body was completely used to Ganyu’s warmth. As if this was home.

After all, her subconscious seemed to have known Ganyu’s body far longer than she’d ever known the comfort of her own bed in Celestia.

“Keqing.” Ganyu’s voice was quiet. “I have a question to ask.”

“Go ahead.” Keqing stared at the ceiling above them. “Whatever it is.”

“Do you have any news on Malphas? Was he properly punished for what he did?”

“I don’t have any information on that,” Keqing said, sighing. “I’m sorry. The other gods aren’t privy to the punishments made by the Higher Rulers.”

“I hope whatever it is, he was rightfully dealt with,” Ganyu said. “He deserves to suffer for the rest of eternity after messing around with you.”

“He didn’t mess around with just me, either. But I did hear that the shrines built for him have all disappeared.”

Ganyu became silent for a moment. “Could his godhood have been revoked?”

“I know this sounds terrible, but I hope so. Or, I hope he’s at least locked away somewhere with no access to his powers.”

“I don’t even want to know how the God of Mischief even got the chance to ascend,” Ganyu said. “Do you know what made you ascend, Keqing?”

“I was known as Liyue’s Matchmaker,” Keqing said. “The Divine Elders never revealed to me why I ascended. They don’t share that with any of the gods. You kind of have to figure it out for yourself.”

“There’s so much mystery around the gods.”

“There really is. But I’ve recently been able to piece more of it together.” Keqing knew she had to choose her next words carefully. “You saw those memories of my mortal demise. I believe the Divine Elders saw that as an act of love itself, me sacrificing my life to save you.”

Ganyu sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s what I was suspecting, also. It’s made me think a lot about the whole situation. While I’ll always be so grateful that you were given another chance at life, it hurts to think of what you had to go through for that.”

Keqing turned to her side, adjusting the sheets covering both of them. She met Ganyu’s soft gaze. “I don’t regret it one bit. If I could save you again, I’d do it again. I’d take a hundred arrows to my chest if it meant that you could live.”

“I would do the same for you,” Ganyu said, her eyes as sincere as the way she said those words.

Keqing smiled. “It’s a good thing we aren’t in a war anymore. No need to get struck by an arrow again.”

“The only arrow I’d love to get struck by again is your own,” Ganyu said, laughing softly.

“I’ve already done that ten times. No more for you.”

Ganyu only smiled in response. Keqing could already see Ganyu’s eyelids starting to droop a bit.

There was one thing she wanted to do. Keqing’s fingers moved slowly across the bed, sliding towards the middle. Ganyu took notice of it instantly, and it wasn’t long before their fingers were interlaced together.

“Sleep well,” Keqing said, her voice as low as a whisper.

“May you have the sweetest dreams,” Ganyu said, giving her another smile before she closed her eyes.

Keqing’s gaze dropped to their interlocked hands. Ganyu’s hand was so soft and warm against hers. It was enough to fill her with enough peace to start to lull her to sleep.

But Ganyu’s talk of arrows allowed for another thought to arise in her mind. She recalled Ei’s warning to her not long ago, of how the Elders would be perfectly capable of aiming an arrow at Ganyu’s heart to pair her with someone else.

Someone other than Keqing. The thought was starting to evoke anxiety within her, but she took a few slow, deep breaths. Pairing Ganyu with another lover had never been one of the Elder’s punishments for them.

All Keqing could do was hope that Venti would be quick enough to set up the hearing sooner than later, before any of those consequences could result.

➵ ✩

Dear Ganyu,

Happy birthday to the most famous star that I know! Like how you shine so brightly in the roles you play, I hope you know you shine just as bright—honestly even brighter—in my own life. Your existence is a true gift in itself to this very universe, and I thank you for it.

I hope these gifts find their perfect home at your place. I’m sure you have so many gifts that you’ve accumulated over centuries. I hope you still have room for these!

Thank you for all of the joy you’ve given me in this life. In the past and the present, my life has been made better in so many ways with you by my side. As both your goddess and your Keqing, I’m filled with joy thinking of all of the good you’ve blessed the world with. How exciting it is to know that this is not the end, that you’ll bring more joy with you into the future.

You’ve got me for the rest of time. That’s a promise I make to you as Keqing. As Ferthur, though? I wish I was able to bless you with the love of your life. I apologize for not being able to. But I wish upon the stars every night that one day we’ll get to love each other in the way we always deserved.

With lots of love,
Keqing

Chapter Text

“You know, you look pretty miserable for someone who just spent the night with the most important person in their life,” Ai said, watching as Keqing paced back and forth in front of the television. “Can you walk around like that in the kitchen? Or your own room? You’re covering a vital scene in the show. This girl’s mom is about to confess about her past crimes.”

“Ai.” Keqing stopped to look at her. “How much do you know about the Elders’ abilities?”

“Is this what you’re so worried about?” Ai sighed, patting the seat next to her on the couch. “Sit here.”

Keqing sat herself down on the couch, watching as Ai quickly turned off the television. “I’m trying not to worry about it, and I don’t think I’m doing a good job at that.”

“If I’m being completely honest, you’re doing a terrible job.”

“Thanks, Ai.”

“The abilities of the Higher Rulers,” Ai said slowly, looking contemplative. “What abilities are you referring to?”

“Every god’s powers are sourced directly from them.” Keqing’s gaze fell to her hands on her lap. “If I’ve been blessed with these matchmaking powers, then that must mean that the Elders are equally capable of pairing mortals together.”

“Yes.” A look of realization dawned upon Ai’s face. “Oh, Keqing. Are you worrying about the possibility of the Elders matching Ganyu to someone away from you?”

“Possibly.”

“I should’ve known.” With a sigh, Ai continued, “Even if they were to try and match Ganyu with someone else, I doubt it would work. All of your arrows failed to work on her.”

“That’s true. But, maybe that was because it was me shooting those arrows,” Keqing said. “The Divine Elders have heaps of more power than I do. Their arrows may be powerful enough to overpower any resistance from Ganyu’s heart.”

“Keqing.”

“And from what I know about matchmaking after all of these years, every choice I make for a match is permanent. If the Elders were to match her with someone else, I wouldn’t ever be able to reverse that.”

“Can we take a moment to pause here?” Ai sighed as she placed a hand on Keqing’s shoulder. “Nothing’s happened until now.”

“I know, but–“

“If they wanted to match Ganyu away, they would’ve done that from the moment that you were summoned by them. They would’ve done whatever they could to stop you from ever having a chance at loving Ganyu again,” Ai said. “What’s more cruel than watching the woman you love be signed away to spend her life with someone else? They would’ve done it already.”

Keqing sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s true.”

“I’m running the tests right now. According to the past behaviors of the Elders, the probability of them choosing to match Ganyu away to someone else is 10.81%. They have never used a god’s given abilities against them.”

Somehow, hearing the exact percentage made her feel a little worse. “Ai, but we don’t have all of the knowledge of their behavior in the past. The Elders keep most, if not all, of their punishments to the gods confidential. I don’t know where you’re getting your information from, but I’m still wary.”

Ai sighed. “No matter what I say, you’re not going to be reassured at all. Are you?”

Keqing turned her head to look at Ai. She only forced a smile. “No.”

“Who put this idea in your head? Was it yourself?”

“It was Ei, when I met her a few weeks ago,” Keqing said. “At first, I didn’t give it much thought. But it’s just been constantly replaying in my mind recently. And I feel like something bad is actually going to happen.”

“What you feel doesn’t equate to what the future holds,” Ai reminded her. “If you were the God of Fate, sure, I’d say what you’re feeling is correct.”

“I know worrying isn’t going to help me at all. But I can’t stop myself.” Keqing rubbed a hand over her temple. “Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten closer with Ganyu the past couple of weeks. Now I’m worried that there’s just so much to lose.”

“Did Venti give you a date yet? For the meeting with all of the gods and the Higher Rulers?” Ai asked. “We still have a chance, Keqing.”

“He told me he’d let me know the exact time and date later this week,” Keqing answered. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling more antsy about all of this.”

“I think you have every reason to worry about it. But Keqing, I also think that if the Elders wanted Ganyu to be with someone else, they would’ve used their own abilities to ensure that already,” Ai said, her voice growing softer. “I think you can look at this another way, with a more hopeful outlook. Maybe they’ve been so lenient all this time because they know that at the end of the day, you and Ganyu are truly fit for each other. There’s nobody else who could ever come between the two of you.”

Keqing glanced at Ai with an incredulous look, half-expecting her to be showing off a playful smile. But she looked completely serious. “Now, I think you’re being a little too hopeful. That’s somewhat nonsensical.”

Ai rolled her eyes. “You were the one always preaching about optimism.”

“I don’t believe in false optimism.”

“Okay.” Ai started to push her off the couch. “Let me enjoy the rest of my show. Ai’s Advice Corner has come to an end for the day. Actually, it’s canceled indefinitely due to such bad reviews.”

“Ai.” Keqing laughed. “Please.”

Ai gave her a look, but her eyes were still as kind as ever. “Keqing. Go call Ganyu. Seriously. Tell her you miss her. That’s probably another reason why you’re feeling so antsy.”

“After I finalize this one match, I will.”

“Enough with your excuses. Call her and tell her.”

Keqing swallowed any further excuses that she would’ve thought of. She started to make her way toward her own room, her footsteps light and quick at the thought of hearing Ganyu’s voice. She knew she had to be careful with her actions. She knew it so well.

And yet, her fingers reached out to her phone as if they had a mind of their own. She tapped on the screen until she pulled up Ganyu’s contact quickly. Her contact was one of the two favorites saved onto her phone, the other being Ai. She smiled as soon as she saw Ganyu’s contact picture, which was a shot from the video she took with Keqing at Yae’s party.

In the picture, Ganyu wasn’t smiling at the camera. She was smiling right as she looked at Keqing. It was the sweet smile that she saw often, the smile that Keqing was convinced had been handcrafted and gifted to Ganyu directly from Celestia. A smile so pretty that she wholeheartedly believed nobody could ever imitate or replicate it.

Ganyu picked up on the third ring. Keqing was surprised to hear her voice. She’d expected for the call to go to voicemail, as Keqing rarely called Ganyu during the work day.

“Good morning, Keqing,” Ganyu said, her voice bright.

“Ganyu.” Keqing sat at the edge of her bed. “I liked hearing you say that better in person this morning.”

“I know.” Ganyu let out a soft laugh. “I liked hearing you in person too. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really.” Keqing kicked at the edge of the rug beneath her legs. “I just missed you. What mortals say about distance making the heart grow fonder is true.”

She was playing a dangerous game here, and she knew it. She’d talked to Ipos earlier, after getting back home, about the whole situation. Ipos had only warned her, saying, “While what you’re doing right now doesn’t directly violate any Heavenly Principles, you’re walking a fine line. You should be cautious.”

All Keqing had taken away from that conversation was that she wasn’t going to be swept away again to be forced to kneel in front of the Divine Elders. She knew it was still a possibility. Ipos had only advised her to be cautious.

“I miss you too.”

Although she couldn’t see her, Keqing could tell Ganyu was smiling. It was in her voice. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. Is everything going well on the set?”

“Yes! You caught me at the perfect time. We’re on a quick break right now,” said Ganyu. “But I’ll unfortunately have to say bye to you in a minute.”

“Thank you for picking up anyway, despite your short break.”

“For you? I’d pick up whenever.” Ganyu paused, and there was the sound of something rustling on the other end. “By the way, did you hear from the production team about the photoshoot for our movie?”

Keqing blinked. “I haven’t received anything lately from them. Should I expect something soon?”

“You’ll probably hear about it later today,” Ganyu said. “We were supposed to have the photoshoot for our promotional posters a while back, but they kept postponing it since they couldn’t get in touch with you.”

“Oh. You know what? They were probably trying to reach out to Ai. She mentioned that a while back, but we weren’t in the position to accept the photoshoot then,” Keqing said, thinking of her previous mortal disguise when they’d first been sent here as her punishment. “I’ll have Ai reach out to them again. Do you know when it’s supposed to be?”

“I think it’s supposed to be the middle of next week. They’ve been in a rush to get it finalized so they can start releasing more promotional images. What they’ve been doing so far have been editing pictures from the scenes we’ve shot,” Ganyu said. “They’re in a bit of a rush now.”

“I should be able to go,” Keqing said, starting to feel a little too happy at the thought of seeing Ganyu again.

There was a low voice on the other line, and Ganyu’s voice was quiet as she said, “I’ll be right out.” Her voice grew louder as she continued apologetically, “Keqing, I have to go now.”

“No worries! I hope the rest of the day goes smoothly.”

“I’m sure it will now after getting to hear your voice.”

Keqing felt her cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much. “Will you call me again tonight if you get the chance?”

“You don’t even have to ask. I’ll talk to you later, Keqing.”

“Goodbye,” Keqing said, and she hesitated before hanging up the call.

Talking to Ganyu made her feel a hundred times better. It was comforting to know that nothing had changed in their relationship. Ganyu was still the same sweet Ganyu. Her voice alone was enough to make the worries hold less of an impact over her.

Keqing got back to work with more motivation than before. It was her most productive day of all.

To top it all off, she even received a prayer from Ganyu later that day. It struck her out of nowhere to hear Ganyu’s voice in her head. Keqing had instantly stopped what she was doing to tune into that prayer.

Ganyu’s voice was soft as she said, “My dear Goddess, thank you for all that you do every day. No amount of words I say would ever be able to express my gratitude. Thank you for the love you graciously allow and bless the world with. You are very well appreciated, and you are loved.”

That was the end of her message, short and sweet. But it had Keqing on the moon. She wasn’t just on the moon, she was prancing on it holding a sign that read Ganyu’s prayer to her. Those three words were especially bolded: my dear Goddess.

Keqing replayed that specific part of the prayer about five more times, and she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks flush every single time. The last time she played it to herself, she actually giggled. She giggled like one of those high schoolers she often received prayers from, the girls who giggled after their crushes even did a simple act such as looking their way.

She sighed to herself and got back to work.

➵ ✩

The day of the photoshoot arrived quickly. As ashamed as she was to admit, Keqing had been keeping a mental countdown in her mind for each passing day that brought her closer to seeing Ganyu again.

The photoshoot was being held at the Stone Gate Productions Headquarters. Keqing decided to take the drive there with Ai, instead of using her quicker methods of teleportation, only to distract herself and ease her nerves over seeing Ganyu again. It was ridiculous, the way she still got nervous to see the same woman she’d once been engaged to thousands of years ago.

Some things never changed after all this time. She was living proof of it.

The Stone Gate HQ was about twenty stories tall. Every single head turned toward her way when Keqing strolled in with Ai by her side. People were quick to avert their eyes, although some continued to stare. The people at the front desk remained unfazed, and Ai whispered to her that those were Zhongli’s assistants, which meant that they were aware of her true identity.

Everyone else, though, appeared to be regular mortals. Some snapped pictures as she walked by, and they weren’t too discreet about it. Keqing paid no mind to it. She saw the group of people waiting in front of the elevator at the center of the room, and she quickly walked to the door leading to the stairs instead.

As the door closed shut behind her, Ai said, “You’re more famous than I thought you were. Did you see how everyone looked at you?”

To Keqing, fame wasn’t her concern in the slightest. She peered up at the staircase, which seemed like an endless spiral up. A sigh left her lips. “What floor is it again?”

“The fourteenth floor.”

Keqing rubbed the back of her neck. Within a split second, she was in front of the door of the fourteenth floor. “There we go.”

Ai appeared by her side a second after. “My goddess can be so lazy.”

“Ai, you don’t want to know how it feels to go up all of those stairs. I did us both a favor,” Keqing said as she pulled the door open. She walked with Ai through the long hallway, which was full of pictures of promotional pictures from a myriad of movies. “Do you know what room we’re in?”

“I do. It’s Room 20.” Ai hummed to herself as she stopped in front of a door. “Here we are.”

Keqing’s attention was caught elsewhere. She was staring at a picture of two actresses on the wall. They were in a tight embrace, with one of them staring at the camera as her chin was nestled into the other’s shoulder. Keqing had been picturing a photoshoot where she would be formally standing next to Ganyu, possibly doing an endearing pose together—like their hands coming together to form a heart sign. She wondered what they’d have the two of them do.

As soon as Keqing was inside the room, her eyes fell upon Ganyu instantly. Ganyu was standing with a man by the cameras, and she appeared to be sharing a laugh with him as an assistant touched up her long blue hair.

Ganyu’s eyes lit up as soon as she saw her. “Keqing!”

Keqing walked further into the room, and she became very aware of all of the pairs of eyes that were focused on them. But she didn’t spare anyone another glance as she took long strides toward her. “Ganyu. You look stunning as always.”

Ganyu was wearing a short white dress, completely looking like an angel. Her cheeks developed a slight blush as she said, “Thank you. They’re going to have you wear a similar outfit, only in black.”

“It’ll be a contrast!”

Keqing turned to see who the grating voice came from. She lowered her gaze to the short man. It was Director Wu, who was staring at her with a big grin that stretched from one ear to the other. She’d nearly forgotten that he existed. She wished she had.

“Ganyu wears white to symbolize somewhat of a fresh beginning. She’s pure, full of light and vitality.” Director Wu threw his hands up in the air for dramatic effect. “Then, Keqing, you’ll wear black to represent the total opposite of her. You bring uncertainty to the table. You’re everything that she’s ever wanted, but she’s always been too afraid to chase. You represent temptation.”

“Huh.” Keqing blinked. “I didn’t know two colors could have that much meaning. How interesting.”

“Life is all about finding the deeper meaning in everything,” Director Wu said. “Isn’t that right, Ganyu?”

Ganyu didn’t seem too convinced, but she nodded anyway. “That’s right.”

“Could you take Keqing to where she can change?” Director Wu asked, turning to the assistant who’d been working on Ganyu’s hair a moment earlier.

“I can do it,” Ganyu said.

The assistant was young with wide eyes that revealed a hint of intimidation as they flickered between Ganyu and Director Wu.

“Nonsense. You can stay here, Ganyu,” Director Wu said.

“I insist.” Ganyu didn’t wait for the director’s response, and continued, “Follow me, Keqing.”

Director Wu opened his mouth to reply, but he quickly shut it and stepped aside for the two of them to pass. As Ganyu led the way, Keqing followed right next to her. She reached out to lightly brush her fingers over Ganyu’s shoulder. The fabric of her dress was soft to the touch. “He hasn’t changed at all.”

“People generally don’t change,” Ganyu said, cracking a small smile. “Did you get here alright?”

“I did. There was a lot of traffic, but we managed just fine.” Keqing watched as Ganyu led them into a smaller room, closing the door behind her. The room was empty, and there were mirrors lined up the wall where the makeup stations were. On the other side of the room were a few stalls that served as the changing rooms. “It’s strange to be around everyone again.”

“I know. It’s comforting in some way, though, to be back.” Ganyu walked to the clothing rack by the stalls. She held up a hanger that had a black dress on it, nearly identical to the white dress that she was wearing. “Here it is.”

Keqing took the dress into her hands. “Ganyu.”

“Yes?”

“I have a question.”

Ganyu looked at her expectantly. “Ask away.”

“Do you not get tired of this?” Keqing asked, gesturing around her. “You’re always running from place to place, filming movies and shows and interviews. You have to make all of these appearances everywhere, and you’re also on the face of so many ads. Now you’re doing these photoshoots. How do you not ever give up?”

Ganyu laughed. “When you say it like that, it does sound a little depressing.”

“Do you enjoy it, though?”

“I do,” Ganyu said. “It can get exhausting, yes. I do take breaks from the screen every now and then. But I enjoy it very much. It’s nice to keep myself busy and meet a whole variety of people.”

Keqing nodded, feeling quite content with her answer. “Good, then. I want you to do what makes you happy.”

“I’m happy, Keqing. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.” Ganyu smiled warmly. “Now go change before Director Wu comes knocking on our door.”

Keqing returned the smile, then she turned to the changing room. It was a soft black dress with ruffled long sleeves, and the bottom of the dress brushed over the skin right above her knees. The dress was easy to slip into, but she didn’t realize the zipper would be so hard to reach. It was long and far down the center of her back, with the end of it so close to her waist. She stared at her reflection in the mirror as she struggled to reach the back of her dress.

“Ganyu, how did you get this zipper up?” Keqing asked as she bent her elbow further, hoping she’d somehow be granted more flexibility. But it was no use.

“I had someone help me with it,” Ganyu said. “I can do it for you.”

Keqing pushed the door to the stall open. “Can you, please?”

“Of course.”

As the door opened, Keqing suddenly felt very conscious of herself under Ganyu’s gaze. Ganyu was never one to stare. She always kept her gaze soft and respectful. But that alone was enough to cause Keqing’s cheeks to warm.

“You look so pretty,” Ganyu said, her voice a tad bit quieter than three seconds prior. “Let me zip the dress for you.”

Keqing turned around, and she was thankful to be facing away. She kept her expression calm as she held up the back of her hair.

Ganyu zipped up the back of her dress in one quick motion. “There you go.”

As her hair fell back to her shoulders, Keqing spun on her feet with a bright smile. “Thank you.”

“I’m sure they’ll bring someone in soon to do some final touch ups,” Ganyu said, staring at the wall behind Keqing. “I’ll bring them in right now, actually.”

Keqing’s lips parted in surprise as Ganyu left the room as fast as lightning. Despite the quick motion, it was enough for Keqing to still notice the pink tinge to the tips of Ganyu’s ears.

➵ ✩

“These are our options,” Director Wu said, holding up two pictures in the air before them. “Which pose would you like to go with first?”

Keqing stared at both pictures, her gaze switching between one and the other. They were sketches of Ganyu and Keqing in two different poses together. In one of them, the two were standing next to each other, a fair distance between them—although their hands were intertwined. The other one, however, was a major contrast.

The sketch was of Keqing sitting on Ganyu’s lap, her legs hanging around Ganyu’s hips. As if that wasn’t enough, the sketched version of Keqing was pressing a kiss to Ganyu’s forehead.

“Uh.” Keqing continued to stare at the second picture. “These are two very different poses.”

“We need a variety of images to use for promotion of this movie,” Director Wu said, beaming proudly. “We already did a similar photoshoot for Ganyu and Shenhe.”

Keqing’s brows raised at that. “Oh.”

“If you don’t feel comfortable with any of these, you don’t have to agree,” Ganyu said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “But Director Wu, the second sketch is a little misleading about the movie, don’t you think?”

Director Wu blinked in response. Did the man ever think? That was a question Keqing wanted to ask.

“What matters is that we sell the movie,” Director Wu said, a gleam in his eyes.

Ganyu let out a small sigh, and she turned to Keqing. “If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

Director Wu made a small noise of protest, but Ganyu shushed him with a single glance.

“I don’t mind,” Keqing said. “Really. It’s okay.”

Director Wu clapped his hands in delight and walked toward the camera team as he started giving out directions. Everyone started to bustle around as they got in their places, adjusting the lights in the room and the camera angles.

“I know it must be a lot to take in,” Ganyu said, her tone apologetic. “I’m sorry. If I’d known what he wanted us to do, I would’ve warned you in advance.”

Keqing shook her head. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we’re going to be making out on camera.”

Ganyu opened her mouth in slight surprise, and closed it quickly. She laughed. “That’s true.”

“But thanks for looking out for me,” Keqing said, offering her a small smile. “You always do. And I appreciate that.”

Ganyu smiled in response. Keqing was convinced she’d never get tired of that sweet smile.

➵ ✩

The first pose was easy to reenact from the sketches. Director Wu gave out plenty of pointers, some that Ganyu and Keqing both decided to ignore. As if it was an unspoken understanding between them, that whenever that man said something obnoxious, they would act as if nothing had been said at all.

The challenge came with the second pose. It was even starting to make her nervous. She never had the tendency to get antsy, but that was becoming more common throughout her stay in the mortal realm.

There was a pattern, though. Wherever Ganyu was in her periphery, the nerves in her body seemed to respond the same way every time.

But nothing had ever compared to this moment now, where Keqing was standing in front of Ganyu. Ganyu, who was sitting in a chair, patted her empty lap with an innocent smile on her face. Or was it an inviting smile?

Keqing didn’t even know anymore. She was starting to feel her body start to get warmer. It was one thing to do it alone, but to do it in front of all of these staring eyes? Keqing didn’t care about people’s perception of her. She only wished that they didn’t have an audience. Kissing Ganyu had been one thing, but this whole pose seemed more intimate to her.

She would much rather do it alone with the two of them together. But that was out of the question.

She stopped overthinking the matter. Or, at least, she tried to. It was a little awkward in Keqing’s dress to sit on her lap, especially when she had to position her legs around Ganyu’s waist. Ganyu picked up the blanket that had been temporarily placed on her shoulders, covering Keqing’s bare upper thighs with it.

“Is this okay?” Ganyu asked, her voice hushed. Her gaze was soft and careful.

Keqing nodded. She felt her heart start to race quicker as she realized how close she was to Ganyu’s face. Ganyu’s hands came up around her back to support her, and Keqing was so sure she wouldn’t be able to survive this at all. She was even surprised by her own ability to maintain a straight face. She placed her hands on Ganyu’s shoulders for support.

“Alright, Keqing. This looks absolutely beautiful! It’s amazing! Glamorous, even!” Director Wu gushed, his voice starting to raise in pitch from his excitement. “You two are going to absolutely change cinema.”

Her brain was barely even registering what he was saying. Keqing found herself staring into Ganyu’s eyes. When she was this close, she could see her own reflection in them. Her own wide eyes. She could see the specks of purple on Ganyu’s eyes, a brilliant shade that made her eyes look even more beautiful.

It was apparent that she didn’t have the straight face she thought was on her face.

“Just one kiss on her forehead, and that’ll be perfect,” Director Wu said encouragingly.

Keqing had already been irked by the director since the moment she stepped into the set, but he was testing her by the second. She kept her eyes trained on Ganyu, tuning out whatever else he said. She leaned forward, pressing her lips on Ganyu’s forehead. As she did so, she felt Ganyu’s fingers dig slightly deeper into the skin on her back. Keqing wasn’t sure if she would survive.

They had to remain in that position for about five minutes as the director got the shot from different angles, and as other assistants came by to adjust their hair and smoothen out any wrinkles on their dresses. Every second that passed, she was becoming more aware of the fact that she was sitting on Ganyu’s lap. They were so close to the point that Keqing could feel every breath that Ganyu took. She could hear every soft inhale, every soft exhale. Without even intentionally meaning to, she realized their breathing patterns were in tune.

Five minutes felt like an eternity. A blissful eternity.

Director Wu finally called out, “And we’re done! Great work, you two. The chemistry is absolutely astonishing! You two will be on every single headline once these pictures are released. Thousands of people will flock to the movie theaters to see the masterpiece we’ve all created! We’re going to absolutely break records—”

Ganyu quietly said to her, “You did great.”

Keqing carefully got herself off Ganyu’s lap and stood up. She hadn’t done anything, really, but she wasn’t going to deny a compliment from Ganyu. As she lent out a hand, helping Ganyu get up from her chair, she said, “The same for you.”

With a smile, Ganyu continued, “You’re just a natural at this.”

Keqing smiled back. She felt her cheeks start to warm a little as she realized all she wanted to do at that moment was to kiss Ganyu. Not on the forehead, but right on her lips. She cursed the Heavenly Principles.

➵ ✩

At the end of the photoshoot, Ganyu was the one to offer Keqing a ride back to her place. This time, Xiao wasn’t the one driving the car. Keqing felt a slight sense of relief at that. Instead, it was a lady from Stone Gate Productions who had a golden Geo insignia embroidered onto the back of her coat.

“Where’s Xiao?” Keqing asked, although a part of her regretted asking.

“Oh, he’s on vacation for a few days,” Ganyu said, flicking off a piece of dust on her white puffy jacket. “The twins went on a trip to Inazuma, and he followed along.”

Keqing’s brows raised. “Is he one to take vacations? I somehow can’t picture that.”

“You’re right. He never does. But he does make occasional exceptions for them.”

“I can’t imagine going on a trip with Xiao,” Keqing said, and she couldn’t help but add, “Was he invited or did he invite himself?”

Ganyu laughed. “He was invited. He’s quite close with Aether and Lumine.”

Keqing blinked in confusion as she thought of the twins. Both of them had a fairly bubbly personality, and though she’d seen them interact at Ganyu’s birthday party, it was still a trio she couldn’t quite comprehend. “I see.”

“But it’s good for him to get out there,” Ganyu said. “Especially since the twins are immortals, too, it’s easier to get along with them.”

“Was this public knowledge from the start of their career?”

“It’s public knowledge, but they only just recently stepped into the light. They feared the Immortal Hunters for a long time in the past, so they often lived in the shadows.” Ganyu stretched her arms out. “But now that it’s become a safer place for them to live as immortals, they’ve decided to reveal themselves to the world. And the world is lucky to have those two.”

“Immortals,” Keqing repeated. “You know what’s interesting? Despite their many years on this planet, they’ve never prayed to me.”

Ganyu hummed in contemplation. “That’s a good point. I’ve never seen them get involved with anyone.”

“That’s actually impressive. I respect it.”

“I’m sure you would,” Ganyu said, her tone revealing a slight teasing tilt to it. “But that’s their story. They’re both some of the most genuinely sweet people I’ve ever met.”

The rest of the car ride went smoothly. They both filled the air with soft voices and laughter, and they arrived at Keqing’s apartment sooner than she would’ve liked. Keqing suggested that Ganyu come in for a cup of tea, and to her delight, she agreed. And so they walked.

Keqing thought she heard the flash of a camera as they walked inside. They’d specifically gone through a side door of the front building to avoid any passerby’s, but she supposed mortals would find their own way each time to be creative in their invasive methods. She shared a look with Ganyu, who also seemed to have heard it.

“I’ll have Xiao take care of it,” was all Ganyu said, with her classic sweet smile playing on her lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

Keqing was probably going to end up worrying about it later that night.

Ai wasn’t at their apartment, which was at least some piece of good news for the night. She had mentioned doing something with Chuyu, and Keqing hoped it would last for the next hour or two. After spending time with Ganyu surrounded by countless amounts of people, Keqing longed for some quiet time with her.

“What kind of tea do you want?” Keqing asked as she opened the cabinets. There were boxes of tea that Ai had collected several months ago. “We have a whole variety. One of the newest additions is our Qingxin tea.”

“I would very much like Qingxin tea!”

As Keqing got busy with brewing hot water for the tea, Ganyu kept her amused with small talk about Yun’s latest obsession with a dog around the block. It was apparently a corgi, one that barked mindlessly at Yun from afar but always shyly wagged her dog as he approached.

“Keqing,” Ganyu said, after taking a few sips of her tea. “This is absolutely blissful. Amazing. The best tea I’ve ever had in ages.”

“The tea’s good, but I wouldn’t call it the best tea ever,” Keqing replied, laughing. “Ai was the one who chose that out. Let’s not give her too much credit.”

“I give credit where it’s due.” Ganyu set down her mug, and her gaze fell to her hands. She touched one of the three rings, slowly and carefully. “I have a question.”

Keqing’s hands were around her pink mug set in front of her. The heat of the mug was increasingly growing around her skin, nearly burning it. But she couldn’t move. She already had a feeling she knew where this conversation was headed toward. And, yet, she still replied with, “What is it?”

“I’ve been wondering about the ring I found for you,” Ganyu said slowly. “Did you ever try it on?”

Her hands were starting to hurt. “No.”

A soft sigh left Ganyu’s lips. “Okay. Good.”

Keqing’s gaze snapped to Ganyu. Ganyu, who was looking at her with such softness and sincerity. “Good?”

“We saw the bulk of the good memories,” Ganyu said, and she stopped talking abruptly. She leaned over to cover Keqing’s hands with her own, gently tugging them away from the mug. “Keqing.”

Keqing looked down at her hands. They were bright red. Her skin was still intact, but her fingers burned and tingled. As her skin came in contact with the air once more, she watched as her body healed herself within seconds. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” Ganyu asked, and she didn’t let go of her hands.

Keqing wished she never would. “I don’t…”

Ganyu’s grasp on her hands tightened. But they were still so soft. “Will you tell me what’s on your mind?”

Keqing stared at Ganyu’s hands. She couldn’t look in her eyes. If she did, she was so sure something inside her would break. “I’m afraid.”

Ganyu was quiet, as if waiting for her to continue. But when she didn’t, she asked, “What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“Losing you,” Keqing said, and her voice was quiet. “I’ve lost you once. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I’m here right now by your side,” Ganyu said, rubbing circles with her thumb over Keqing’s knuckles. “You haven’t lost me.”

“And I’m afraid that if I put the ring on, it’s going to unlock unpleasant memories. I stored the good ones away, and I know I would’ve still chosen to keep the painful ones. Because I would’ve wanted to keep every single memory of us.” Keqing bit her lip. “I can’t bear to go through that. Maybe I’m selfish.”

“How would that make you selfish?”

“Because you saw the memory of my death. You’ve had to suffer through that pain more than once, which is cruel. But I’m choosing not to, out of fear of becoming even more hurt. It feels selfish.”

“It’s not selfish at all.”

Keqing finally looked at Ganyu. Ganyu’s eyes glistened under the light.

“I have nightmares, too,” Ganyu said, and she reached forward to brush her fingers over Keqing’s left cheek. “Although I don’t regret finding out the truth of what happened, I still feel the pain. I wouldn’t want you to go through that, though. Don’t force yourself to experience those memories again.”

“But I feel like a coward.” Keqing’s head lowered. More tears were starting to leak out of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did this to us.”

“It was not your fault,” Ganyu said, her voice slightly breaking. “Never your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Before she knew it, Ganyu had pulled her into a tight embrace. She ran her fingers through Keqing’s hair as she cried and cried and cried. She cried for their past, their potential that had been lost in an instant. She cried for their future, the uncertainty of it all. She cried for herself and Ganyu. Ganyu, who had been innocent throughout the whole ordeal, was pulled into this chaos and forced to suffer all because two girls had fallen in love with each other.

Ganyu didn’t let go of her. She kept hugging her tightly, she kept running her hand through the strands of her hair, and she kept whispering to her, “It’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”

And with the power of Ganyu’s presence, Keqing was soothed. Despite the uncertainty of everything, Ganyu’s warmth allowed for a sense of peace to find its place in her heart.

Chapter Text

The minutes passed, and Ganyu didn’t leave. She didn’t mention having to go anywhere, and even after Keqing asked, she kept insisting she had the time to stay.

“I’ll be okay,” Keqing said. “I don’t want to keep you here if you have somewhere else to be.”

“Luckily for you, I have plenty of time.” Ganyu smiled, tightening her hands around Keqing’s. Because yes, their hands were still intertwined throughout all of this, and she had to keep reminding herself that it was perfectly normal in order to stay calm. “For you, I’d make all the time in the world.”

“Now, I don’t know if that’s the healthiest way to go about that.” Keqing shook her head with a slight tsk. “You should have your own life and your priorities.”

“I do.” Ganyu continued to smile at her. “But I’m just telling you that you’re a priority. If it came down to walking the dog with Xiao or walking the dog with you, you know who I would pick.”

Keqing hummed. “Well. I don’t know if that’s a good example. Walking with anyone else other than Xiao would be the best option.”

Ganyu laughed. “Ouch. I’m almost offended on his behalf.”

“Sorry.” Keqing clucked her tongue. “I forget some people actually like him.”

“Keqing.”

“My bad. I forget you actually like him,” Keqing corrected herself. “Anything about you, I need to never forget. It’s a mistake on my part.”

Ganyu raised a brow. “Are you done?”

Keqing sheepishly smiled at her. “Yeah. So are you staying the night?”

“Were you planning on sending me home at this time of the night?” Ganyu asked, her eyes wide as she tapped on the phone by her legs. “It’s 2 AM.”

“What would people say if I sent you home right now?”

“Hm.” Ganyu was quiet for a second before she said, “I think they’d call you cruel. Maybe heartless. For sending such a helpless, beautiful woman home to fend for herself in the cold air.”

“But it’s not really cold out. So maybe people wouldn’t go that far.”

Ganyu’s lower lip slightly stuck out. It was the slightest move, but Keqing noticed it instantly. “If you really wouldn’t like me to stay, I won’t impose.”

“Ganyu.”

Ganyu stood up, her hands slipping out of Keqing’s grasp. “It’s really getting quite late, anyway. I want you to get some undisturbed sleep.”

“You know I’m only teasing you,” Keqing said, quickly catching her hand. “I want you to stay. You know I do.”

Ganyu lightly squeezed her hand. “I know you want me to. But I have somewhere to be early in the morning. I really do have to get going.”

Keqing’s mouth slightly fell open. “Now you’re the one playing me.”

“I was only teasing you,” Ganyu said, a slight smile on her lips as she replayed the words Keqing had said just a minute before. “But don’t worry about what people might say. Xiao can let me borrow one of his oversized hoodies when I leave the building.”

A frown worked itself onto her face. “I don’t think that’s going to help. In fact, it’d make it more obvious.”

“I’ll let him take care of the rest. Whatever happens will happen,” Ganyu said, waving her hand as she let go of Keqing’s hand once more and grabbed her purse. “Thank you for tonight, Keqing.”

“I should be thanking you,” Keqing said, and she brought her hands together. They were already growing cold without the warmth of Ganyu’s fingers. “I appreciate you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your support tonight.”

“You would’ve been okay either way,” Ganyu said, and she had such deep sincerity in her eyes—it made Keqing slightly shiver. “I mean it. You underestimate your own resilience.”

Keqing smiled. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

“Believe in yourself a little more.” Ganyu stepped closer to give her a hug. “I’m always here for you.”

Keqing hugged her closer. “Let me walk you out.”

“No, you’re staying here. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’re staying here, cozy and warm.”

Keqing was going to protest it, but she didn’t feel like arguing with Ganyu on the matter. She rested her chin on Ganyu’s shoulder. She felt so safe, and so… loved. A gift she’d bestowed upon others for so long, and now to finally have a taste of it for herself: she was filled with the urge to protect it with her life, to fight for it for as long as she could.

➵ ✩

“Venti,” Keqing said, her eyes slightly twitching as she saw the small man posing dramatically in front of a tree with his hand resting across his forehead. “What brings you here?”

She’d been enjoying a quick stroll in a small park by the apartment when Venti had suddenly appeared. There was a good distance between them, but she made no move to shorten it. Venti also remained by the tree with a big grin on his face. He was dressed completely off for the season, with black shorts and a loose white t-shirt that clung to his waist.

“I wanted to bring you some great news,” Venti said, his eyes lighting up. “You won’t believe it.”

“I’m sure I could if you told me,” Keqing replied. “What happened?”

Venti beckoned her forward with a finger. “There are eyes and ears all around us. Come closer.”

Keqing pursed her lips. “You’re the one that found me in a public park.”

He sighed. “Okay. Fair point. That was a poor decision on my part.”

“If it’s that secretive, you can tell me later.” Keqing rubbed her hands on her arms to warm herself as a chilly breeze blew past them. “It can wait, right?”

“Two weeks,” said Venti, a gleam in his green eyes. “That’s the date for the Freedom Agenda.”

Keqing’s eyes widened. “Two weeks?”

“I know. I still can’t believe it.” Venti pinched his own cheek. “I have to keep reminding myself that it’s really happening.”

“I know we talked before about how it’s unlikely they’ll livestream it, but…”

“I actually brought that up again. They’re considering it. I can’t promise that it’ll happen, since we both know how strict they can be.” He looked apologetic. “But no matter what, I’ll be your best advocate. I could swear to you on my life.”

“There’s no need to swear on your life,” Keqing said, and she gave him a small smile. “I believe in your abilities. You have a way with your words. Thank you for doing this, Venti.”

“I should be thanking you for inspiring me in such a way,” Venti said, looking prideful. “Without you, I doubt that the Freedom Agenda could’ve come into existence.”

Keqing held back a laugh. There was something about the way that Venti was saying the words “Freedom Agenda” with such a serious look on his face that broke her out of the moment. But she did a great job at exerting her self-control as she pressed her lips tightly together and shifted her focus to the red leaves hanging from the tree above him. Venti continued to go on his little spiel about his hopes and dreams for freedom in Celestia, and Keqing had no choice but to tune him out from fear of laughing in a moment of such sincerity.

“Keqing?” Venti asked. “Are you okay?”

The leaf right above him had sharp blades, though some had curved edges that gave it a heart-like appearance. Keqing regained her composure and finally looked at Venti. “Yes. Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“These leaves really are beautiful,” Venti said, tapping his chin as he shifted his gaze above him. “What a magical world we live in to be surrounded by such simple beauty.”

“Right.”

“Life will be even more beautiful once we get back what we deserve with the Freedom Agenda.” Venti grinned. “We’ll return freedom back to us.”

If Keqing ever had any doubts about Venti being the God of Freedom, they would’ve been stomped away with this conversation alone. She was starting to wonder if this Venti was a clone of himself just repeating the freedom talk again and again.

“Let’s hope so,” Keqing said, and Venti frowned deeply. “Sorry. I know you like more optimism. I’ll correct that. I know so.”

A pleased smile settled across his face. “Very good. I’ll see you around, Keqing. More updates to come.”

Before Keqing could say goodbye, Venti had already walked behind the tree and vanished. For someone who had been so unwilling to talk about Celestial matters in a public area, he wasn’t too discreet with his teleportation tactics. Keqing gave a slight shake of her head as she resumed her walk throughout the park. Though she couldn’t understand the way his mind worked, she truly hoped whatever thought processes he was brewing would be sufficient enough for the hearing.

As Keqing walked, her mind lingered on the fact that the hearing was only two weeks away. Two weeks until she would know how her love life would look for the rest of eternity. Two weeks until she would know if she would ever be able to call Ganyu hers once more. Because that was what she wanted, and it seemed selfish. She knew it wasn’t selfish to seek her own love. But after never desiring it for so many years, it almost felt unnatural to want it now.

But she was worthy of it. And so was Ganyu. She was putting all of her trust in that small man in green, and she was hoping she wouldn’t regret it.

➵ ✩

“I’m going to bet 500,000 Mora that Celestia will collectively lose their marbles when they see this,” Ai said, peering over her shoulder at the image displayed on Keqing’s phone. “Maybe a million Mora, even.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t even possess that much Mora to be using it for any kind of silly bets,” Keqing said.

Ganyu had sent over the pictures from their photoshoot just a few minutes ago. Keqing was trying her best to act cool about it. She really was. They were just pictures, that was all. Pictures that had her grinning like an absolute fool. The one where Keqing was on Ganyu’s lap kissing her forehead—she wasn’t sure she could ever get over that one in particular.

She was tempted to make it her lockscreen.

Ai sighed. “If I used Zhongli’s card, I’m sure I could afford the bet.”

“I don’t think he’d approve of such a purchase. We’d be abusing our privilege. He’d probably revoke our access to his card afterward.”

Ai raised a brow at her. “You look a little too happy right now.”

Keqing bit her lip to hide her smile as she turned off her phone. The picture disappeared into the pitch black screen in an instant. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t blame you. Those pictures are pretty adorable.” Ai patted her shoulder. “Good pick, Keqing. Of course, I wouldn’t expect any less from the Goddess of Love. If your taste in a lover was terrible, the whole world would be utterly doomed.”

“Thanks. I guess.” Keqing stood up and turned around to face Ai. “I forgot to tell you that Venti came by earlier and talked to me.”

Ai’s eyes widened. “Where?”

“You know the park I usually go for walks in? There.”

“That’s somehow not surprising. What did he say?”

“The hearing for the Freedom Agenda has an official date. It’s in two weeks.”

Ai didn’t seem surprised. “I see. And how do you feel about it?”

“I expected a better reaction than that,” Keqing said. “Is that all I get?”

With a look of exasperation, Ai said, “Keqing. If I’m being honest, I already knew about it. Chuyu told me an hour ago because she found out from Morax.”

Keqing’s brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I was waiting to see if you were going to bring it up.” Ai tilted her head. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react to it. While you’re generally pretty emotionally stable, you’re also a little unpredictable at times.”

“I’m handling it just fine.”

Ai stared intently at her, as if she was staring into her soul. “Really?”

Keqing held her gaze, slightly lifting her chin. “Yes.”

“You didn’t answer me properly when I asked you how you felt about it,” Ai said, and her voice softened. “But no matter what, know what I’ll be by your side. I know that it’s not ideal that we can’t be in Celestia for it, but I’m still going to hope for the best outcome.”

Keqing smiled. “That’s all we can hope for. Thanks, Ai.”

Ai gave her a soft smile in return. “You got it.”

“If I’m not granted the luxury to freely love Ganyu,” Keqing started to say, feeling a squeeze in her heart, “I’m not sure what I’ll do. Continue living, I guess. As boring as it may be.”

“Of course. Life will still go on. You’ve already gone this long without loving her.”

“But that’s also because I didn’t really know of her existence,” Keqing pointed out, and she lowered her gaze to her hands. She played with the long strands of her hair, braiding the ends like Ganyu had once taught her to. “Orobas is cruel.”

“As expected from the God of Fate.” Ai’s gaze turned sympathetic. “But as much as he makes decisions that seem unfair, life still works out in its own ways.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” Keqing said, wagging her finger in the air. “Don’t give me too much hope now, Ai. It might only end up becoming more devastating in the end. And you’re the one who’s going to have to wipe my tears through it all.”

“Good thing I’m your eternal friend,” Ai said, sighing loudly. “And that my shoulders are waterproof. Your tears shouldn’t be too damaging.”

Keqing laughed. “Even if they did damage you, I’d reboot you again. You’ll never be able to escape me.”

“That’s reassuring.” Ai made a face, then grinned as she squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll be okay, Keqing.”

Keqing reached up to lightly envelop her hand over Ai’s. “Thank you. We will.”

As much as she was banking on the fact that all would work out for her and Ganyu, she was also starting to have a little bit of faith in herself. Faith in her own ability to be happy, despite whatever was headed her way. It was a bad idea for her own idea of happiness to be centered around one person—she’d seen how damaging it could be in the lives of mortals.

So, ultimately, she knew she would truly be okay either way. Even still, it would be extra nice if her future involved a happy love life with Ganyu. Her happiness wasn’t necessarily contingent on if she could freely love Ganyu, no, but it would add a great deal of joy into her daily life that she wouldn’t have otherwise.

To Orobas, to the Divine Elders, and hell to even Ipos, she sent out a silent plea from the very depths of her heart. Because as much as she was telling herself she’d be okay, she knew what her mind was telling her was very much different than the outcomes that her heart sought.

➵ ✩

A week quickly passed since Venti’s reveal of the hearing date. Although it eerily loomed in the back of her mind, Keqing’s attention was quickly swept away by another matter: her upcoming movie.

Keqing hadn’t known that the months leading up to a movie would be full of so many activities. Of course, she’d seen the countless amount of Ganyu’s content online promoting movies and shows, and yet it hadn’t clicked that she herself would also be involved in the same process for their new movie. It was truly hitting her now that her impulsive decision to take up a role in Ganyu’s movie had its own set of consequences.

Were they the worst consequences? No. But Keqing wasn’t sure how she felt about taking part in these promotional activities, only because she knew she was embarrassing herself in all of them. Having everything recorded and posted online only meant that they were immortalized in their own sense. While she told herself the opinions of others weren’t that significant, there was still a part of her that cared about her pride.

It was why she was surprised—and a little confused—but mostly surprised with the fact that she was currently getting her hair and makeup done by a middle-aged woman in a brightly lit room. The lights were almost too bright and harsh on her eyes.

The woman, Gracie, was being particularly nosy. Every two minutes, she would ask personal questions both about herself and some about Ganyu. Keqing skillfully dodged each question—it was a talent that came from her experiences conversing with gods in the past who’d asked her things she never wanted to truthfully answer.

Gracie was growing a little more impatient each time. Keqing could see it in the way her lips were becoming more pursed, how her eyes were narrowing by the minute. But Keqing could see that her own reflection in the mirror still looked fine, thankfully, as she wasn’t sure if Gracie’s growing resentment would start to show itself through the work on her face.

“What kind of lover is Ganyu?” Gracie asked as she handled a curling iron over Keqing’s hair.

Keqing was slightly afraid to answer incorrectly with such a heated device so close to her face. She knew it was an irrational fear, as her skin would easily heal itself. But feeling the pain was not something on her agenda for the day.

“A good one,” Keqing said, and she silently hoped Ganyu would walk in and save her. But Ganyu had told her that she would be thirty minutes late as her schedule for the day was completely packed.

But Keqing had to learn to navigate the mortal world for herself without constantly looking to Ganyu for help. Of course, looking at Ganyu for help wasn’t the worst idea. Ganyu would look at her with her pretty eyes, always warm and kind, and she’d give her a classic gentle smile. Maybe she’d laugh, too, at Keqing for being silly.

Keqing didn’t think she would ever stop being silly. If it meant that she could hear Ganyu’s sweet laugh, she’d be silly for the rest of eternity.

“Is she big on giving gifts?” Gracie asked, breaking Keqing out of her thoughts.

Keqing stayed quiet as she thought back to the ring that Ganyu had given her most recently. The ring that had sent her into a spiral of dark thoughts that Ganyu had gently comforted her through. The ring that was still lying on her nightstand at home, waiting to reveal whatever memories it held inside of it. The ring that she was terrified by, but so drawn to simultaneously.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Gracie said, sighing. “That’s a little disappointing. And surprising.”

Keqing frowned. “She’s a wonderful gift giver.”

“What kind of gifts does she give?”

“Gracie, I’m not sure why you think you’re privy to that kind of information, but I’d appreciate it if our discussion about her gifts ended here,” Keqing said, watching as the straightening iron hovered above her head. “I’ll request someone else to assist me if you keep asking about Ganyu.”

Gracie’s face quickly flushed. “I’m really sorry. I overstepped.”

The sincerity of that apology was questionable. But Keqing only smiled politely in return, saying nothing else. Gracie surprisingly remained quiet afterwards, and that was all it took.

It turned out Keqing wasn’t as terrible at interacting with mortals as she thought she was.

But as irritating as Gracie had been, she’d styled Keqing’s hair nicely. Her purple hair was flowing down her shoulders in loose waves, and in front of each of her cat-ear buns were small white ribbons. Keqing thanked Gracie for her help, and that was the end of that battle.

Ai was outside the room when Keqing left through the door. She was playing the true part of a manager, looking extra classy in her heels and a black blazer-skirt set. Her white hair was tied back in a sleek bun. Ai adjusted the fake glasses on the bridge of her nose as she peered at Keqing.

“You look nice!” Ai said, smiling.

“Thanks. I feel like I just went through a hardcore thirty-minute training session for my interview,” Keqing said, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she walked with Ai down the hall. “You’re lucky you weren’t there for it.”

Ai made a noise of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The stylist there kept asking about Ganyu. They were all questions that were inappropriate.”

“Oh.” Ai’s eyebrows were drawn together. “That’s not good. I’ll talk to someone about that.”

“It’s okay. I think she got the memo.” Keqing’s gaze caught on Ai’s golden earrings that were in the shape of clouds. “Nice earrings. They’re new, right?”

“Chuyu got them for me,” Ai said, a joyous smile instantly forming on her face. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”

“Very. Do you still have plans with her tonight?”

“You know it.”

Keqing wished she could see Ganyu the same way tonight. After this interview, she knew Ganyu had to leave to attend to the rest of the matters on her packed schedule. She somewhat felt selfish for wanting to see Ganyu despite all of it.

She had all of these desires despite the fact that she was about to see Ganyu very soon. But in her mind, it wasn’t ever enough.

They stopped in front of the room where the interview was taking place. Ai gave her a supportive smile and swung the door open. Keqing noticed Ganyu’s presence as soon as she entered the room. It didn’t matter that the room was full of thirty different people swarming about. Ganyu stuck out in the room like always—it was as if wherever she went, there was a spotlight following her.

Ganyu’s gaze quickly locked on her, almost instantly as the door closed behind her. A smile appeared on her face, her eyes lighting up as she said, “Keqing.”

Keqing walked forward, and the others in the room took a few steps back to create a clear path in the center. “Ganyu, hi.”

“You look beautiful as always,” Ganyu said, her eyes bright as she leaned in for a quick hug. “How has your day been?”

“First of all, you look absolutely gorgeous yourself.” Keqing thought back to her interaction with Gracie and made a small dismissive noise. “It’s been interesting so far, and not in a good way.”

“That’s not what I like to hear,” Ganyu said with a small laugh. “You’ll have to tell me about it later.”

“I will. How’d filming go?” Keqing asked, her eyes slightly shifting to the eerie feeling she was getting like she was being watched by someone from the corner of the room.

Sure enough, her senses were right. She saw Xiao there, eyeing the two of them with an expressionless face. He almost looked bored, but the slight clench of his jaw disproved that theory.

But her attention was snapped away when Ganyu tugged her towards the main set of the room with three chairs around a round white table, all in front of the movie poster. “It went well. One of the scenes took about five different takes because my co-star couldn’t keep her composure. She kept laughing.”

“Was it that funny?” Keqing was now trying not to stare at the poster, but it was difficult when it was right in front of her face in such a big size. The poster was taller than her. It also didn’t help that it was the shot of her kissing Ganyu’s forehead, sat on her lap. Keqing wished to do that again.

“Not quite. It was a silly line that reminded her of something in her past,” Ganyu said, slightly shrugging. “You know how it can be. It’d be like if we were trying to seriously record something about a balloon. We already have a memory of a unique kind of balloon you got for me once.”

Keqing’s resulting laugh came through her nose in the form of a snort. “Okay, I don’t think we should laugh at my glorious balloon gift. It was amazing.”

“Of course.”

She was satisfied with Ganyu’s quick answer. “Good to hear.”

“Did you practice the script?” Ganyu asked, amused. “Or did you need me to run through the lines with you like before?”

Keqing smiled as the memories of her practicing the movie lines with Ganyu resurfaced in her mind. “I think I’ll be okay this time around. You taught me so much the last time. This should be a piece of cake in comparison to acting in front of all of those cameras.”

“It’s a little similar though, in the way that we’re being expected to act like a couple. Since that’s what the general public thinks of us, anyway.”

“I don’t think that should be a challenge,” Keqing said, her brows raising. “That will come naturally to the both of us.”

“That’s a fair point,” Ganyu replied as the two of them sat down on the chairs. The interviewer was still a far distance away, discussing with the director. “I don’t know if Xiao’s been pleased or not by the fact that he doesn’t have to work on getting all of the articles about us taken down anymore.”

Keqing didn’t dare to look towards Xiao at that moment. “I don’t think that’s a hard guess for me to make. I could bet Mora on it, actually. Xiao always looks like the disapproving father when his teenage daughter brings home a delinquent to introduce as her lover to her family.”

“That… is a little specific,” said Ganyu, laughing. “I think you may have watched one too many mortal movies.”

“It’s a common theme, though. I get a lot of requests from that specific age group. The issues don’t seem to change over the decades. It’s hard to win the approval of some.”

“Despite whatever he looks like, I promise you he doesn’t disapprove of you. Xiao just tends to live in his own world and spaces out, and he forgets to change his facial expressions.”

“No need to lie to make me feel better,” Keqing said, smiling as she patted Ganyu’s thigh.

A blush bloomed across Ganyu’s cheeks at the touch, and Keqing found herself also realizing what she’d done. She lifted her hand, and she felt her own face starting to heat up. She remembered that they were also in a public space, so she had to be careful. The media already thought they were a couple, but she still wanted to preserve Ganyu’s pristine reputation.

“Sorry,” Keqing said as she brought her hand back to herself. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all.” Ganyu cleared her throat. “Never, actually.”

“Never say never.”

“Well…” Ganyu trailed off. “I can confidently say it, especially if it’s in regards to you.”

That shut Keqing up, and she had nothing to say to that. But Ganyu saying that in relation to their physical touch had a train of thoughts rushing through Keqing’s mind that made her slightly blush. Yes, the Goddess of Love was blushing over this matter, which was very much embarrassing considering her age and the realm that she governed.

Once the interviewer sat down, she went over the basics with Keqing of how the interview would progress, which cameras to look at, and other valuable pointers that Keqing could only hope she would remember. But nevertheless, she appreciated the feedback and the advice that were all given to her at Ganyu’s request.

“The most important thing is to be yourself,” Meng said enthusiastically. “It’s what will draw the audience to be more excited to see you in the movie. Especially since this is your debut.”

Debut. Keqing truly never would’ve imagined that she would be here in the mortal realm, preparing for the release of a movie after acting in it. In fact, it was a little terrifying that she’d been given the opportunity to act so easily just because of a mutual connection. Sure, it had helped massively that her connection just so happened to be the director of Stone Gate Productions, but still. She hoped Zhongli wasn’t making this exception for countless other people, as well, because if he was, the future of cinema was doomed.

Truthfully, she’d forgotten about her debut movie for a while, and being reminded of her spontaneous decision to act so often in the past month was a little unsettling for her. The interviewer even telling her to act like herself gave her slight goosebumps. She was certain that the world didn’t want to see her awkward true self as a goddess who was nearly a recluse. A hermit, as the mortals called it.

Once the cameras started rolling, Keqing started to get in the zone. She called it her “maybe if I look serious enough, the mortals will undoubtedly accept me as one of their own” zone, with a proper posture, hands strategically placed on her lap, and her feet resting side by side.

“Hi everyone, thanks for tuning in! Today’s interview is sponsored by All You Can Eat Golden Era. You can use the promo code ‘Live for Me’ to get 20% off your order of Golden Shrimp Balls, which is their specialty dish!” Meng grinned as she pointed at the air, and Keqing wasn’t sure what the point of that was. She was pointing to thin air. “Today we’re here with two lovely women, Ganyu and Keqing, to give us some insight into their upcoming movie. Live for Me is hitting the theaters just next month!”

“Thank you for having us.” Ganyu grinned. “We’re both so excited to be here. I’m Ganyu.”

“I’m Keqing,” she chimed in.

“We’re absolutely stoked to have you two join us. Without further ado, let’s get started!” Meng pulled out a black top hat. “We have a lot of questions compiled together, sent all by fans who are excitedly waiting for the release of the movie. We’re going to have you draw from this hat. Who wants to go first?”

“Keqing can get the first lucky draw,” Ganyu said, turning to her with an encouraging glance.

Even though Keqing and Ganyu had been given the list of questions in advance, along with their prepared answers, she felt a slight thrill of excitement as she placed her hand into the hat that Meng was holding. Her fingers danced around the folded slips of paper a few times before she settled on one.

She pulled it out and opened it. She read aloud, “What would you like people to look most forward to in this movie? That’s a good one. I’d say to look forward to the exciting story of a woman discovering herself throughout her life. Both in terms of her own love story, but it’s also a story about self-discovery.”

“It’s definitely about finding a good balance between self-love and the love you give to others,” Ganyu said, and she turned to Keqing with a grin. “Everyone should also look forward to our stunning star’s debut.”

Keqing instantly returned the smile. “That means the world coming from the best star to exist herself.” They were going off-script, not that she would mind.

Ganyu blushed. “That’s a bit of an overstatement.”

“How sweet!” Meng redirected the conversation back to the hat, saying, “Your turn now, Ms. Best Star.”

Ganyu picked one out quickly and read, “Name one thing you like about each other’s characters.”

“Our characters are both determined in their own ways. It’s refreshing to see,” Keqing said. “There’s no wishy-washy indecisiveness.”

“I agree with that. And they’re both equally independent! It’s good to always see independent women in forms of media,” Ganyu added.

“If I may add, you both are also very gorgeous and sweet, and I’m sure your characters are the same way,” Meng said, smiling as she held out the hat to Keqing. “Let’s see what the next lucky question is.”

“Some of these are statements,” Keqing pointed out, and she pulled another slip out. She read, “What was your favorite moment you had while filming together? That one’s easy. It was definitely being able to kiss Ganyu.”

Ganyu’s eyes widened, and so did Meng’s—because Keqing had gone completely off-script. Keqing smiled proudly. It was an answer she didn’t regret one bit. In fact, she was willing to stand in front of the screen inside the theater on the day of the release, screaming to the world, “I love kissing Ganyu! I would do it every second if I could.”

“Well, that’s definitely a privilege,” Meng said, quickly recovering and smoothly running with it. “If anyone else was in your shoes, I’m sure they’d agree.”

“I don’t think it’s that much of a privilege,” Ganyu said, and Keqing shook her head. “You are all biased.”

“Biased because you are quite honestly loved by everyone in the world, and rightfully so,” said Keqing, and Ganyu’s gaze softened.

“Well. I can only say that the same applies to you,” Ganyu said. “I can’t wait for the world to see your amazing debut in this movie.”

Keqing felt invisible daggers being shot into her sides, and she didn’t have to turn to see that it was coming from Xiao’s gaze. She imagined the same reaction would be directed to her by those in Celestia, such as Ipos. Especially Ipos. Possibly only Ipos.

The next couple questions, Keqing answered them normally and went along with the script. Questions about the hard parts of working on a movie as a debut actor, and Keqing mentioned Ganyu’s constant immense help throughout the whole process.

There was one question, though, that was cheeky. It asked, “How much of the interactions between you two in the movie were based on purely acting?”

Ganyu, of course, answered according to their script. “Since I’ve filmed so many movies before, the acting was natural. Keqing’s character was really easy to be loving around!”

“There was acting involved, sure, but I think an on-screen kiss is pulled off well when there’s at least some undeniable attraction between two people,” Keqing said, completely swerving away from what the script had planned.

Ganyu’s brows rose, and there was the glimpse of surprise on both Meng and the interview director. But they kept the cameras rolling, and continued on with the rest of the interview. Keqing smiled unabashedly the whole time. She was proud, even.

Had this interview happened months ago when she was wary of their stance with Celestia, she would’ve never said these things. But she wasn’t sure what this new change within her was. Was she just feeling rebellious? Or was it a sense of arrogance that she hoped would travel to the Higher Rulers, especially knowing that the hearing was scheduled to be so soon?

Whatever it was, they were proceeding with it. The director later asked if they wanted to re-film those questions that Keqing had gone off-script for, and Ai had only grinned while Xiao had worn a scowl as he started going off about how it wasn’t a wise decision, but Ganyu had stopped him.

Ganyu had then pulled her away to the corner of the room, where it was quieter. “Do you feel good about the interview? I’m fine with it either way.”

“I do,” Keqing said, and Ganyu smiled warmly. “Thank you for asking.”

“You did well, Keqing,” Ganyu said, squeezing her hand. “For your very first interview, that was amazing.”

“It’s something for the world to go crazy about again.” Keqing laughed. “But everything I said, I meant it. I hope you know that.”

“I know it very well.” There was true adoration in Ganyu’s bright eyes. “I’ve never doubted it, even for a second.”

Keqing felt a clench in her chest. Just last week, she’d been bracing herself for the possibility of a future without Ganyu to protect her silly heart. The decision of the hearing would come a week from now. But she swore to herself at that very moment that she would fight for their love.

Even if the hearing didn’t work out in their favor, Keqing would turn Celestia upside down if she had to. Their love was so important in her life: it was a relationship she had never experienced with any other, and she didn’t want anyone else. It was Ganyu, it would always be Ganyu, and she wanted to spend the rest of eternity having the privilege to love her.

It was a love she would fight for, even if it meant fighting for it over the span of centuries. There were no if’s about being able to love Ganyu, the only thing left was simply the fact that Ganyu would be hers to love. Keqing wasn’t going to give up on that, no matter what came their way. She owed it to herself, and the Keqing of the past who’d had her wedding and her future with a loving wife all snatched away from her.

The Goddess of Love deserved her own fated love story, too. And she was determined to get it.

Chapter Text

Today was the day all of the gods and the Divine Elders would gather to discuss the complaints compiled for the sake of the Freedom Agenda. Keqing hadn’t expected it to arrive so quickly, and yet, here it was. But despite the anxiety she felt coursing through every part of her body, she was fine.

Really. That was what she was telling herself, again and again. But with each time she affirmed it mentally, she couldn’t feel any more unconvinced. Even Ai had caught on, but then again, she couldn’t keep many things from her.

Ai had offered to stay right by her side when the hearing was happening, and Keqing had refused. Her mentality already was in a fragile state, and as much as she loved Ai, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to handle one of those teasing jokes in such a tense moment. She was convinced it could bring her to tears, even.

So Keqing was in her room, on her bed with a blanket on her head that covered her shoulders and the rest of her body. Was it that cold? No. But she’d watched a clip from a show decades ago of Ganyu doing this exact same pose in bed. And it was comforting.

Ganyu couldn’t be with her, since Celestial affairs were confidential, but also because of her busy schedule. She’d offered to call Keqing after the hearing, which would either be very tearful or joyous.

The hearing wasn’t being recorded due to various laws imposed by the Divine Elders forbidding any type of photography or video footage. But Zhongli and Venti had found a way to work around it, which was to transcribe the hearing as it was occurring. A few of Zhongli’s assistants had been tasked with this process.

Keqing was now staring at her laptop screen. Displayed on it was a website that Zhongli had sent her, and she could see a black text appearing on the screen, every letter flickering alive as it was being typed. This was the first sentence of the hearing. Keqing held her breath.

Orobas has taken his seat.

The breath she’d been holding turned into a slight huff.

On the side, where there was a chat bar for her to message the assistants, she wrote: I don’t believe that information is necessary here.

An assistant replied: Morax would like it for his own records. You may disregard it, but we must proceed with these updates.

Keqing let out a soft, dejected sigh.

The meaningless updates continued until Keqing could count a hundred gods in total to have taken their seats. The last to make their entry were Ipos and the Divine Elders. That was when Keqing finally sat up in her seat, after nearly falling asleep six separate times. She wasn’t sure how long this whole seating process had lasted. It had to have been thirty minutes, just waiting for the gods to sit as each part of it had been recorded.

And then, it began.

Venti: Welcome everyone! Thank you for taking the precious time out of your busy schedules to gather here today. A special thank you to our esteemed guests of all, the Higher Rulers and Ipos. Welcome to the Freedom Agenda! Today’s meeting will change history, and you are all a part of it. How exciting is that?

After approximately 7 seconds of silence, a slow applause follows.

Keqing pursed her lips as she saw the comment about the silence. It was off to a great start, clearly.

Venti: The way that the Freedom Agenda will proceed is in a randomized order of grievances that were received, so that there is no bias. I ask that all of you remain until the end of the hearing. After each grievance is said, whether it be spoken by the god directly or through a written statement, the Divine Elders will deliver their judgment. Please be patient as we discuss each and every one.

Keqing hoped that her case was brought up in the early stage of this hearing. The wait would be agonizing if it were to be last.

Her handwritten letter, which would later be read by Venti, was one that she’d prepared over the course of a few nights. She would spend minutes pondering what the next sentence she’d write would be, only to finally write it, and then erase it, but then write it again with a slightly different phrasing. If time had allowed, she could’ve even spent the rest of her life working on that letter. But Ai had been the one to read its final version and convince her it was enough.

She hoped it was enough.

Venti: Our first case that I present is from the Goddess of Flowers. As the Goddess of Flowers, she has stated a complaint regarding her inability to create her own unique flower bouquet to gift to her loved ones. She also wishes to be able to gift flowers to her fellow friends in Celestia on their birthdays without receiving any scorn based off the Heavenly Principles.

Keqing’s gaze lifted from the screen, a sense of boredom quickly creeping into her mind. It was going to be a long day.

The Goddess of Flowers’ complaints were met with a positive result from the Divine Elders. It came in the form of two simple words: appeal granted. That was it, and then Venti proceeded with the next case.

The fact that the Divine Elders didn’t even respond with a full sentence was starting to cause unease within her. Keqing just imagined Venti reading her heartfelt letter, only for the Elders to reply with: appeal denied. Keqing wasn’t sure what she would do.

She ended up working as she watched—or, to be precise, read—the updates of the Freedom Agenda. Most of the grievances were small and harmless, such as the God of Salt complaining about the fact that he’d been punished for giving the God of Cuisine a lifetime supply of salt to aid in his culinary adventures.

Then, there was one from the God of Water who had very extensive complaints. The text on her screen was a literal long block that Keqing hadn’t cared for, but she skimmed through it. One part of it had mentioned his annoyance with the fact that he couldn’t use his water manipulation abilities when preparing a dish for the gods at feasts. Another was that he had wished to always create a “magical display of a fountain that takes the shape of whatever he desires” as decoration to the events held in Celestia.

Quite frankly, Keqing didn’t care. But it was amusing to see the different ways that the Heavenly Principles inconvenienced the gods. The Divine Elders were also lenient in their case approvals. So far, each case presented to them won approval.

The streak of approvals was lost when Venti proposed a case for himself. He went on a long speech about how his dream had always been to host a concert as a celebration for himself, Barbatos, in Mondstadt. The Divine Elders’ response was: Appeal denied, such ostentatious shows from a god directly to obtain more worshippers is unjust and still violates the Heavenly Principles, especially in this day with the abundance of modern technology.

Barbatos wasn’t the only one on the search for fame. There was another complaint by a god who was asking to finally be featured in Miko’s vlogs to gain their own popularity, but in their godly forms directly. The Elders denied it with the same reason as Venti’s. A god was never meant to reveal themselves directly to such a large number of mortals and achieve the same fame as them—it was seen as an act of diminishing the prestige and influence especially associated with the gods.

Another denial was slapped onto a god’s request for the Divine Elders to allow entrance of mortals into Celestia. Their reason for entry? Tours around Celestia and the gods’ palaces, at a hefty sum of 100 million mora per guest. Such a ridiculous proposal, and yet, Keqing wasn’t surprised. Immortal beings would always seek strange ways to occupy their time.

Despite the chaos, Ganyu reached out in the midst of it with a text that soothed a great deal of her worries.

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
Keqing, I’m thinking of you today! I’m thinking of us.
I’m sorry again that I can’t be by your side right now, if it wasn’t for my schedule I would be there in an instant.
No matter what happens, I’ll still be here for you. That will never change. :)

Keqing instantly smiled, and the perfect response came to her as her fingers moved along the screen. She wrote: You’re not physically beside me, no, but it’s almost as if I can feel your presence with me wherever I go. It’s almost like you’re a god yourself. The Goddess of Beauty, perhaps?

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
I think you may have beaten me to that one already. There can’t possibly be two gods of beauty, right?

Keqing: Actually, Celestia called me directly right now to let me know you held the title first.
Congratulations :) I have been a loyal follower since the beginning.

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
What’s your definition of “the beginning” ?

Keqing: Hm… Since the moment I learned to talk?

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
I’d like to regretfully inform you that my beginning started the moment I was conceived.

Keqing: But you were not fully conscious of the world around you. So that’s not very realistic.

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
I could say the same for you at that age. So I think that makes your argument invalid. :( Sorry.

Keqing: You’ll just have to take my word for it.

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
Or, you can just let me have this one? :)

Keqing: I’ll consider it. Is there any possibility that I’ll get something in return?

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
That depends on what happens today.

Keqing: Let’s hope for the best possible outcome, then.

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
I’ve already been hoping since the moment I was conceived. :)

Keqing: I’m impressed. You’ve done it all since before you were even born.

Ganyu (From Live for Me):
I’m just a woman of many talents, what can I say?

Keqing: That doesn’t surprise me one bit.

Keqing heard knocks on her door. Her attention drifted to Ai, who swung the door open with big eyes.

“It’s time,” Ai said, and she quickly closed the door again before Keqing could even react.

Ai had told her earlier that she’d keep up with the Freedom Agenda in a separate room, for the sole reason of protecting each other’s sanity and peace. They both knew that they’d each feed off each other’s nervous energy if they were to sit through it together. Keqing stared blankly at the closed door, then back at the screen as she sharply inhaled.

Venti: Now I present a case I’m sure has been highly anticipated. It’s been heavily discussed recently, both in the mortal realm and within our own Celestial affairs. This is the story of our Goddess of Love, Ferthur, and her mortal lover, Ganyu.

Venti: Keqing met Ganyu nearly 3,000 years ago in the mortal realm, before she ascended to be the goddess we know her as today. They met during the strenuous circumstances surrounding the Archon War, and yet, the two still found love. They loved each other. They were preparing for their wedding when Keqing was killed. We now know that this was a scheme plotted by Malphas, who I hope is now rotting in the deepest parts of the underworld, but that is besides the point.

Venti: Keqing rapidly ascended after her mortal death. Ganyu grieved. The two of them were separated, in both a physical and also a mental sense when their memories were erased. It wasn’t until recent events in the past year that fate has brought the two of them together once again. However, as we all know, the Heavenly Principles prevent Keqing from willfully loving another, as it violates the very act of love that she rules over.

Venti: But today, I present this case on behalf of both Keqing and Ganyu. While both cannot be physically present, I have letters that each of them wrote. I will be reading both of them now.

Keqing’s eyes widened. She hadn’t realized that Ganyu had written her own letter, too. But that was reasonable. She recalled Ganyu saying Venti had asked her for a request. It had to have been this letter. Keqing took a deep breath, gripping her blanket for comfort. She wasn’t one to cry often, but she had a feeling that if she read Ganyu’s letter, she would start bawling.

It was just a fleeting feeling, but she had a strong sense that she was right. To read Ganyu’s sweet words in such a vulnerable moment, Keqing just knew that her heart most likely wouldn't survive.

Venti: I’ll first read Keqing’s letter. It reads:

“To those listening to this message right now, thank you for your time. I am sure you are all familiar with the nature of my work as the Goddess of Love. I spend a great amount of time every day matching mortals to their fated loved ones, and yet, I never knew I would ever have the opportunity to get so close to getting my own love story. Falling in love with Ganyu was never part of the plan, as cliche as it may sound. Of course, meeting her has been one of the best things to ever happen to me. But due to the circumstances surrounding my godhood, I am unable to pursue my relationship with her further as before.”

“I am requesting that the Higher Rulers please reconsider this matter once more. Since Ganyu is someone I’ve loved as a mortal prior to my ascension, I ask that this be an exception to the restrictions on my ability to freely love another. To love someone is one of the extraordinary blessings and gifts bestowed upon us all in life. I humbly ask to be granted to love Ganyu. Without her, life is a little too dull.”

“Plus, I also think that if this was granted, it would help motivate me to create more matches in this world. More matches would likely result in more happy couples and help increase the population of this world, which would result in more faithful followers for our gods all gathered here. I believe that I’d be even more efficient at my job as the Goddess of Love. So, it would be a win-win situation.”

Soft laughter lasting approximately three seconds erupts toward the end of the speech, and then it is followed by applause.

Keqing hoped it was the good kind of laughter, and not the snarky kind. She wished she could see the expressions of the gods. Was the mood light? Somber? She wondered what kind of expression Ipos was wearing, too. She could imagine Ipos with a small frown and her arms crossed, and yet, she knew it wouldn’t be out of full-blown distaste. Ipos had let her off easy a countless number of times.

Venti: You might think that’s all for our sweet lovers, but I’ll now read Ganyu’s letter.

”Hello, all. It feels strange to be writing such a letter that will be read in a room full of the most powerful beings in the world. I am honored to be indirectly in the presence of everyone here today. My name is Ganyu. Some of you may recognize me as the mere immortal actress living among the mortals, but I am more than that title alone.”

”I am a daughter, a friend, a mentor, even a coward at times, but most importantly, I am a lover. In my years of life, I have been filled with such love for the world and those around me. But nothing has compared to the love I have felt when I am with Keqing.”

”Love is such a beautiful, powerful part of life. It comes in all forms and types, and I have experienced all sorts of love throughout this lifetime, in friendships and in staged experiences acted in front of rolling cameras. But my favorite love story of all time is the one I’ve come to share with Keqing.”

”We met so long ago, and my body responds to her as if it’s always known the feel of her skin against mine. While our memories were forgotten for a rather long period of time, I still remember the first time I saw her in the set of the recent movie I was filming. To have Keqing announced as a new rookie actress was a bit of a surprise, but it was not so much of a shock to my heart. Even hearing her name for the first time, I was filled with a sense of comfort. It was much like a toddler tugging at the hem of your clothes, something that fills your heart with such endearment. It’s a feeling you can’t quite describe.”

”Seeing her for the first time on the set was much like hearing her name, but with an effect on me that was magnified by at least a thousand times. Isn’t it so fascinating for a person to quite literally take your breath away every time you see them? To me, that is Keqing.”

”To have loved Keqing once is enough of a blessing on its own. And yet, I can’t help but ask to be granted the chance to love her once more. Except this time, this will be the first and last time that I ask. She is just as deserving of love as everyone else in this world. It is my humble request of the Divine Elders.”

”Thank you all for listening.”

”Signed with much love and respect, Ganyu.”

Keqing had to wipe her eyes to keep her vision clear enough to see the words on the screen. She sniffled and wiped her tears away, and even hiccupped. Then, she laughed. Her own letter was not as beautiful as Ganyu’s, and she was wishing at that moment that she could be just as articulate. But what she lacked, Ganyu made up for.

There is a round of applause and the sound of whistles filling up the room.

The Divine Elders: Appeal granted. Considering the fact that Ferthur fell in love with Ganyu prior to her ascension, we will overlook this instance. However, if Ferthur chooses to fall in love with another individual, it will not be pardoned due to the high possibility of bias.

“Wait, what?” Keqing blinked. And blinked again. “Did they just…?”

The door swung open, and Ai stood with a handful of red heart-shaped balloons. She blew pink confetti into the air, sending sparkly glitter all over her room. “This calls for a celebration!”

“Am I dreaming, Ai?” Keqing asked, pinching her own arm. “Is this really happening?”

“It’s happening. This is real.” Ai grinned as she threw more confetti into the air. “You’re free to love Ganyu! In all the ways you’ve ever fantasized about!”

“I have to tell her,” Keqing said, her hands slightly trembling as she picked up her phone. “I don’t even know how to tell her. Where do I even start?”

“This is a far better dilemma to have than to try and break the news to her that the Elders refused your request,” Ai said, tilting her head as she raised her brows in amusement. “Just call her. I’m sure she’ll pick up.”

That was what Keqing did. Her fingers quickly moved across the screen as she pressed on the small icon on Ganyu’s contact that initiated a phone call, and her heart began to race from the anticipation. She felt a dampness to her cheeks and realized her tears hadn’t stopped.

She couldn’t even focus. She almost didn’t even realize that Ai had left the room by the time Ganyu picked up on the second ring.

“Keqing,” Ganyu said, her voice soft. It was careful. Slow. Cautious. The wonder in her voice was there.

“We did it, Ganyu,” Keqing said, and her cheeks were starting to hurt from how much she was smiling. “It worked. Actually, it must’ve all been you. Your letter was absolutely beautiful.”

Ganyu breathed in deeply, it was heard clearly even on the other line. “It wasn’t all just me. This was a dual effort. Thank you for letting me know so quickly.”

“Of course.” Keqing inhaled sharply. “Can I be so honest? It’s cruel that I’m not by your side right now. I want to kiss you so badly.”

A soft laugh came from Ganyu’s end. “How badly?”

“I am at the limit, if there even is one. Where are you right now?”

Ganyu paused. “Do you want the address? I’m on a break right now, but I don’t think that’s sufficient time for you to show up here.”

“Tell me the address,” Keqing said. Then, she added, “Please.”

Ganyu laughed once more. “My goddess can be so demanding.”

“Pretty please?”

“I’m actually in Luhua, around the museum where we visited together last time. There’s a building called Luhua Optics, which is this huge building, but I’m here to promote one of their brands of glasses. They have a whole new variety of colors, ranging from—”

Keqing was by Ganyu’s side in an instant. It was a small dressing room, one that had a window where the sunlight was streaming through. Ganyu was facing the window, and her phone almost fell out of her hand as she turned around surprise. Keqing caught it swiftly and smiled.

“As much as I’d love to hear about your upcoming ad for Luhua Optics, I have something I’d much rather do first,” Keqing said, and she leaned in as she pulled Ganyu close by the waist.

Their lips met, and it was like Keqing was ascending for the second time. Ganyu’s lips were soft, so soft against hers. How long had it been their last kiss? A little too long for her liking, and she vowed to never let a day pass by again without stealing a kiss from Ganyu.

Ganyu’s hands were running through her hair, and Keqing’s hands were cupping her chin. As they continued to kiss, Ganyu took a few steps backward, and Keqing followed forth, and she couldn’t see anything with her eyes closed, but she heard a soft sound as Ganyu’s back hit the wall.

Keqing opened her eyes, taking in Ganyu’s utter beauty. “You,” she murmured as she kissed Ganyu’s forehead, “are absolutely,” and kissed her cheek, “always and forever,” and kissed her jawline, “divine.”

Ganyu’s face was slightly flushed. “That’s you.”

“Haven’t we established that I consider you the Goddess of Beauty?” Keqing asked, and she leaned in for another kiss.

It was a deeper kiss than the first. Passionate. Ganyu’s fingertips were lightly dancing around Keqing’s waist. Each brush of her fingers unleashed a wave of butterflies inside Keqing’s stomach.

“But you’re my goddess,” Ganyu whispered when she pulled away from the kiss, her eyes bright and filled with so much affection. “The Goddess of Love, the Goddess of Beauty, you could be it all.”

“I’m not going to argue with you again,” Keqing said, staring at Ganyu’s lips. “I haven’t gotten enough of you yet.”

“I pray you never do.” Ganyu ducked her head, leaning forward to kiss her neck. Then her lips trailed down her skin, down to her collarbones, faint enough to tickle her.

Keqing slightly laughed at the tickle. “Ganyu. Your lips are a little preoccupied right now, and I’m aware of this, but I want them back on mine.”

“Is that an order or a request?”

“What do you think?”

Keqing felt her mouth dry as she saw how Ganyu’s red lipstick had smudged over her lips. And she wanted to ruin it even more. She kissed Ganyu without even saying another word. Keqing’s hands made their way around Ganyu’s back, over the soft skin over her shoulder blades exposed through her top.

There was a slight patter of footsteps outside the room. It became quiet as quickly as it had gotten close. Whoever it was had walked away.

“Do you have to get back soon?” Keqing asked as she paused in the midst of their kiss. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

Ganyu smiled. “This is worth being late for. In fact, I’d cancel the rest of my plans for today just for you. I actually could.”

“I wouldn’t want that for you. It’ll look bad on you,” Keqing pointed out, and Ganyu began to press kisses over her neck again. “Okay. You’re making it hard to say no. Extremely hard.”

“This all feels so surreal,” Ganyu said, her voice as soft as a whisper. “I can’t believe it.”

“I know.” Keqing interlaced their fingers, holding their hands close to her chest. She pressed a kiss to the back of Ganyu’s hand. “I’m glad this is our reality now.”

“I’m not dreaming, right?” Ganyu asked, laughing softly. “I’m going to keep asking this.”

“This is all very real,” Keqing said, and her heart felt as if it could nearly burst from how big it felt at that moment. She kissed Ganyu’s cheek. “Do you believe it yet?”

“Not quite,” Ganyu said, and her arms snaked their way around Keqing’s waist. “Could you keep proving it to me?”

Keqing kissed her on the lips. Ganyu’s mouth was so soft and warm on hers, and Keqing truly knew she could kiss her forever. They had each other for the rest of eternity—it wasn’t an overstatement. She wouldn’t lose Ganyu again. Once had been enough.

“Is this enough?” Keqing asked, once they finally broke apart from the kiss.

“I think I’m starting to understand a little more,” Ganyu said, nodding as she tugged and straightened the collar of Keqing’s shirt. “Thank you.”

“I could do more to help prove it, but I don’t think this is the appropriate place to do that.” Keqing’s fingers enclosed over Ganyu’s hand on her shirt. She smiled. “But I’m sure this is enough for now.”

“It’ll have to do for now,” Ganyu agreed, and her gaze remained steady on Keqing as she added, “You’ll just have to keep helping me understand.”

“For as long as I need to.” Keqing kissed her cheek. “Okay. As much as I’d love to spend more time with you, I know your break shouldn’t be lasting this long. I don’t want people to form any bad opinions about you. Like I said before, your pristine reputation needs to be maintained.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Ganyu asked, a slight pout on her lips.

“Never.” Keqing gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m afraid I’m too far gone now to think of ever doing that.”

Ganyu’s eyes were amused, and full of so much adoration. “Will you stop by my place later tonight? I should be wrapped up with everything here in a few hours.”

“I’ll be there,” Keqing said, giving her hand a small squeeze. “Good luck with finishing up. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’m normally a patient person, but this wait is going to be pretty cruel,” Ganyu replied. “But, yes. See you soon.”

Keqing reluctantly let go of Ganyu’s hands, and helped her tidy up again before she left. Ganyu’s hair was a bit tangled from Keqing running her hands through it so much, so they fixed that, and then reapplied Ganyu’s lipstick, and straightened out some of the wrinkles on her clothes.

“Okay. All good?” Ganyu asked, sounding almost breathless as she turned to Keqing with a wide grin and a thumbs-up.

“All good,” Keqing agreed, giving her a thumbs-up back. “Looking as beautiful as always.”

“That means a lot coming from the Goddess of Beauty,” Ganyu said, winking at her before she slipped out and closed the door behind her.

Keqing almost did not survive that wink. There was a new air of confidence to Ganyu, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. But even with this new side of Ganyu’s playfulness, Keqing was grateful to know it. With every day came along with it a new reason to fall for Ganyu even more. She didn’t know it was even possible, but every day proved it to her. She didn’t believe in too many things in this world, but one of them would always be the power of love.

➵ ✩

Keqing received a flood of congratulatory messages from the gods. Most were gods she’d never even spoken to before, but everyone had such kind words to say. It seemed that her love story with Ganyu had touched the hearts of many.

One that deserved a special mention, though, was a message from Zhongli. His message had read: Congratulations. I wish you two a long love that lasts the centuries to come. I pray that you don’t have to come asking me for another favor to erase your memories again. I’m afraid the Elders won’t look kindly upon us if that happens once more.

Keqing had replied with: Thanks, Zhongli. I’m fairly certain it won’t happen again. But thank you for everything. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten me a role in the movie.

His response was sweet. The two of you would’ve found your way to each other even if that had never been orchestrated. I haven’t ever quite met a couple so deserving of each other like the two of you. Keep it up.

Venti was as cheeky as always. He’d appeared on her balcony, nearly scaring her as he knocked on the door.

“You need to stop showing up in such strange locations,” Keqing said as she pulled the door open.

“I wouldn’t call it a strange location. There’s a door here. Doors are made to be walked through,” Venti said, slipping by as he bowed. “Where’s my applause?”

Keqing laughed. “You got more than enough applause all day within that courtroom. But thank you for all that you did, Venti. Thank you for reading those letters.”

“I’m glad I could play a part in your epic love story,” Venti said, grinning. “Thanks for all your support towards the Freedom Agenda. I’m glad it could be turned into a reality.”

“I’m sorry that the Elders weren’t in approval of your case,” Keqing said, clucking her tongue. “Better luck next time.”

Venti’s eyes brightened. “How’d you know there’d be another Freedom Agenda? I’ve actually already started preparing for it.”

“Considering your enthusiasm over the first one, I think the second one was bound to happen.”

Venti nodded, and a sigh fell off his lips as he crossed his arms. “I’ll get what I want next time. Now I know the type of cases they’re inclined to approve.”

“You’ll get there,” Keqing agreed.

“I’m surprised you’re not here with Ganyu,” Venti said, raising his brows. “I wasn’t even expecting for you to be here, actually.”

“She’s been busy all day. Some people don’t have as much time on their hands like others,” Keqing replied, and Venti frowned. “Whether that applies to you or not, you’ll have to wonder that elsewhere.”

“Is this your way of kicking me out?”

“Yes. I need to finish up some work,” Keqing said, laughing as she gestured towards the bubbles around the room. “But thanks for dropping by.”

“Of course. We’ll be in touch.” Venti hummed, and he winked before he disappeared.

If it didn’t mean he’d be crouched as he slipped out her window, Keqing was glad to accept whatever means of exit he used.

And then, Keqing got back to work. Or, at least, she tried to, but getting distracted was just part of the routine at this point.

➵ ✩

Keqing was nervous. It was silly to be nervous, she knew that. It wasn’t as if she was going to Ganyu’s house for the first time. And it also wasn’t as if they were brand new lovers. Except, it somehow felt like it.

She was outside Ganyu’s door, her hand hovering above it. All she had to do was knock. Her heart was racing as she finally did it. She heard a few barks and the sound of quick footsteps approaching. When the door swung open, Yun jumped right into her legs.

“Sorry! I didn’t expect him to get to the door that quickly,” Ganyu said as she laughed. “He’s usually not this hyper.”

“That’s okay.” Keqing ruffled the fluffy white fur on Yun’s head. “Did you eat dinner?”

“I did. I had something before I got here.” Ganyu closed the door behind her. “Did you want something to eat?”

“No, I’m fine,” Keqing said, and she walked along the hall as Yun followed closely behind her. “How did everything go?”

“It went well. Xiao was busy, though, scheduling interviews for our upcoming movie.” Ganyu paused and looked over at her. “I don’t know if you want to be in any more interviews, but they’re kind of expecting you to attend more. If not, I can tell Xiao and we can make some sort of excuse.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll do whatever you need me to. I want this to be a successful movie for you.” Keqing smiled. “You deserve it.”

“Don’t think too much about me,” Ganyu said, and she had the faintest blush on her face. “This is a movie you’ve worked hard on just as equally. Your first movie. It’s a big deal.”

“You’re right. It is a big deal. It’s an excuse for me to stare at your face on the big screen for a couple hours.”

“Same for me.”

They were walking up the stairs now, and Ganyu began to talk about a small box she’d bought recently to store the hairpin Keqing had given her. Ganyu brought her to her room, and they stood in front of the vanity as Ganyu held the box out in front of her.
It was made of jade, and it nearly sparkled under the light from her lamp.

“It’s beautiful,” Keqing said, brushing her finger along its smooth surface. “Can I see it in your hair?”

Ganyu gave her a subtle nod. She turned around, her long blue hair resting down across her back. Keqing watched as Ganyu’s fingers moved across her hair as she pulled it up into a bun.

Keqing stepped forward, taking the hairpin in her hands and sliding it through the bun. She steadied the pin until her hair stayed in place. Keqing then turned Ganyu around with her hands on her shoulders. Ganyu looked at her with a look in her eyes that Keqing couldn’t describe, but it made her heart swell with such a bittersweet feeling.

“I’m sorry,” Keqing said, lowering her head. “I’m sorry it took us so long to find each other again.”

“There’s no need to apologize for that,” Ganyu said, her voice as low as a whisper. “Why are you sorry? That isn’t your fault.”

“Just take my apology.” Keqing slightly laughed. “Let me be sad and sorry.”

“What matters is that we’ve reunited now,” Ganyu said, and she lifted Keqing’s chin with the soft guidance of her finger. “Have I ever told you how much you mean to me?”

“I got a sense of it in your beautiful letter that Venti read for everyone today.” Keqing smiled.

Ganyu kissed her forehead. “I didn’t get to read your letter, if you wrote one.”

“I wrote one. I’ll read it to you next time. But don’t expect it to be as good as yours. Yours was phenomenal.”

“You give me too much credit.” Ganyu kissed her cheek. “I’m sure your letter will move me to tears.”

“I don’t want you to cry over me,” Keqing said.

“No tears, then. Better things than that.”

“Happier moments.” Keqing’s heart was beating rapidly as Ganyu smiled once before she leaned in for a kiss on the lips.

They kissed, slowly and softly. Ganyu’s hands were gentle as they cupped Keqing’s face, and all she was wishing for was for this moment to last forever. Their steps were gradual as they made their way to the bed. Keqing was sitting at the edge of it, and Ganyu took a moment to break their kiss.

“We…” Ganyu let out a soft breath. “Is this okay with you?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Keqing said, tugging Ganyu closer by her shirt. “I may or may not have fantasized about this moment for too long now.”

Their lips met again. With every kiss, Keqing was reminded of how their lips felt so right against each other, as if her lips had been created just to find Ganyu’s in this lifetime. If their souls hadn’t been marked with eternity, Keqing believed they would’ve found each other in every lifetime thereafter.

Their clothes came off slowly, finding their home on the ground by the bed. Ganyu whispered such kind words of love as she kissed Keqing along her body, trailing from her face to her chest until she was down, positioned below her waist. She was slow and careful, so sweet and assuring.

The room was soon filled with the soft noises of their breaths and kisses, paired along with the hum of the city around them. The world felt so beautiful at that moment. How lovely it was to be held so earnestly by Ganyu, to be taken care so delicately with such affection.

To make love with Ganyu felt like the greatest privilege. To fall asleep in Ganyu’s arms afterward was also such a privilege—one that Keqing would never take for granted. The rhythm of Ganyu’s chest rising and falling to her breaths pulled her to the most blissful sleep she’d ever had.

Chapter Text

Waking up by Ganyu’s side was everything Keqing wanted and more. Ganyu woke her up to sweet kisses on her nose, kisses that had her softly laughing as Ganyu worked her way around all over her face.

“Won’t you run out of kisses if you spoil me too much?” Keqing asked, and Ganyu gave a simple shake of her head in response.

“Luckily enough for you, my kiss jar is infinite.” Ganyu tapped her nose with a quick brush of her finger. “I’ve accumulated enough unused kisses throughout my lifetime to last us.”

“You’re quite right. I’m so very lucky,” Keqing agreed, taking Ganyu’s hand within hers and intertwining their fingers. “Would you also answer this question? What if we never left this bed?”

“Well, to be completely honest, I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” Ganyu said, bringing her hand to her lips and kissing her fingertips. “Though, we may have a hoard of people checking up on us because of all our unfinished work.”

“I wouldn’t like that. But, all of our duties seem so insignificant right now.”

“But listen to this. I’m sure Xiao would be the first to check in.” Ganyu laughed. “That would be a nightmare for you.”

Keqing made a noise of disgust. “It would be the worst one I could ever have.”

“Unfortunately, the only way to prevent that would be to leave the bed.”

“I thought we were on the same side. We are both against leaving the bed,” Keqing said, pouting as she tightened her grasp on Ganyu’s hand. “Aren’t we on the same team?”

“We are. I’m just looking out for you.” Ganyu was on her side, staring right at her with a soft smile. She reached out with her other hand to tuck several of Keqing’s hair strands behind her ear. “If I could stay here forever with you, you know that I would.”

Everything about this moment was so comforting. She felt so safe and loved, so warm in every corner of her body. With her body so close to Ganyu under the covers, she was feeling a sense of coziness she’d never felt before. And the way the sunlight was streaming through the windows, casting its soft light across Ganyu’s pretty features, it was all absolutely divine.

It was as if all of the moments in her life had been leading up to this exact moment. All of the tears, the regrets, and the pain, they had all led her right here.

“Let me give us a reason to leave the bed,” Keqing said. “Can I make you breakfast?”

“Would you really do me the honor?” Ganyu asked, her eyes sparkling brightly.

“Of course.” Keqing smiled. “Anything for you.”

Getting out of bed took longer than it should’ve. They stayed in bed for another thirty minutes, laughing over useless bits of information they shared that made little sense. Such as Aether forming a recent plan to surprise Xiao by getting him a huge worm-shaped cake. Why exactly a worm? Keqing had no clue.

Once they finally crawled out of bed, Ganyu gave Keqing a pair of pajamas to wear that matched with her set, along with a spare toothbrush. Such small things, and yet they made Keqing feel like she belonged in Ganyu’s home.

“What are you going to make for me?” Ganyu asked, opening the fridge as they got to the kitchen. “Are you craving anything?”

“I don’t usually crave much food,” Keqing answered, peering over Ganyu’s shoulders. Ganyu’s fridge was filled completely. “Do you have the time to cook?”

“Not as much as I’d like. I have a chef who comes by every week to cook when I’m in the city,” Ganyu said. “So I should have the ingredients for whatever you’d like to make.”

“What are you craving?” Keqing asked, closing the fridge as Ganyu began to open the cabinets. “Do you remember that one dish Xiangling’s dad came up with? Universal Peace?”

Ganyu turned to her with wide eyes. “Yes. I think about it often. I can make it, but it doesn’t taste as good as his.”

“I’m proud to admit that I can do a decent job at making it,” Keqing said. She felt a pang in her heart as she thought of her long lost friend. “Xiangling taught me his exact recipe.”

“She left you with a great gift.” Ganyu’s eyes searched her face. “It never gets easier, does it?”

“It doesn’t. But I think back fondly upon my memories of her.” Keqing smiled. “She was a big advocate for us. If she was still here and allowed in Celestia, I’m sure she would’ve been up on that stage with Venti yesterday.”

Ganyu laughed. “I’m sure. She would’ve stolen the spotlight, for sure.”

“The Elders would’ve feared her,” Keqing agreed. “She’d have Ipos kneeling at her feet.” This was a reach, but the mental image of it was delightful.

“Have you ever tried finding her descendants?” Ganyu asked. “I’ve crossed paths with some of the descendants for friends. I always end up running into them without meaning to. But the resemblance always gives it away.”

“I actually haven’t,” Keqing said. “I don’t entangle myself too much in the affairs of the mortal world much.”

“I could look into it for you, if you’d like,” Ganyu said. “Xiao has some connections.”

Keqing hummed. “I’d like that, actually. I don’t think I’d actually talk to them, but just to know if they’re out there doing well.”

“I’ll make it happen.” Ganyu nodded, and she leaned down to pull out a bag of rice from a cabinet. “Now, let’s get cooking.”

“Prepare yourself for the best meal you’ll have in your life,” Keqing said, clapping her hands. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready.” Ganyu laughed. “Go ahead and change my life with this dish.”

And so Keqing did. Or, at least, she tried. She hadn’t tried cooking in so long that it was more of a struggle than she expected it to be. But Ganyu assisted her every step of the way, leading to a dual effort from the both of them. It was nice, how it was such a casual, everyday activity to be sharing together. It was bittersweet, cooking such a nostalgic meal that reminded them of an old friend.

“I can confirm that your cooking has now changed my life,” Ganyu said, sighing happily as she dug into her bowl. “This is just so good. You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

“The recipe?” Keqing tilted her head. “I don’t think I will.”

Ganyu let out a small gasp. “Have I not earned the right to your recipe?”

“There’s no need for a recipe. You can call me whenever you want to eat it, and I’ll come to make it for you.” Keqing smiled. “I’ll be your other personal chef, if you will.”

“To have a goddess as my own personal chef, I’m not sure if I’m worthy of that,” Ganyu said, pausing mid-bite. “What would this goddess expect in return?”

“More kisses and hugs?”

“I’d give those to you for free.”

Keqing paused for dramatic effect. “Okay. How about a lifetime’s worth of kisses?”

Ganyu laughed after taking a sip of water. “That’s also all yours.”

Keqing’s heart fluttered. She blushed over something as simple as that, and she couldn’t help it. She had to remind herself that they’d been on the path for marriage once in the past.

Her past self was lucky for that. She still was extraordinarily lucky to have Ganyu by her side, free to love, but… The topic of their future hadn’t been discussed yet.

Their planned wedding as mortals hadn’t seen the light of day. It was something she had to bring up at one point, and she would, but for now, she’d enjoy this moment with Ganyu. Ganyu, who looked so content and at peace as she scooped mouthfuls of Universal Peace. There was no rush at all, and they had all the time they’d ever wanted.

Everything was okay. Things were starting to fall into place, and they were happy. It was what they both deserved.

There was no rush, but Keqing wanted so badly to call Ganyu her wife.

➵ ✩

Keqing wasn’t fazed by the attention they garnered in public, but it was starting to get on her nerves today. After she and Ganyu finished several short interviews for their movie, which had altogether lasted a few hours, Ganyu suggested for them to visit Luhua Business District. But as they walked through the streets, they were stopped every so often by people who wanted pictures with them.

Ganyu politely declined each and every one of them. She did it with such grace that had her fans just nodding along, with no sign of dejection on their faces. They just gazed in awe at her, completely starstruck.

Keqing fully understood. She was just as mesmerized by Ganyu’s beauty on a daily basis. It seemed these mortals were content with just even being in Ganyu’s presence, that getting rejected for a picture wasn’t a dealbreaker. It made sense. Ganyu’s physical presence was worth far more than a mere picture.

But the number of mortals that came up to them lessened when they began to hold hands as they walked. People gave them space. Ganyu had initiated the touch, just by holding out her hand without saying a word. Keqing had taken it in an instant, and they blissfully walked through Luhua Business District with their intertwined hands.

Ganyu stopped at numerous stores in between. Her idea of shopping, however, was stopping to look at various things and holding them up to Keqing, saying, “You would look good in this.”

Keqing would counter it every time with, “I think you’d look better in it.”

Ganyu’s responses would then range from her scrunching up her nose as she shook her head, or she’d tilt her head and agree after a bit of silence, or she’d just laugh and say they could match in it.

It was how it ended up with Keqing now holding six shopping bags in her left hand. The right was reserved for holding Ganyu’s hand—a very important purpose to her at that very moment.

“Keqing,” Ganyu said, once they were nearing the corner of a busy street. “A question for you.”

“And I will have an answer for you.”

“How do you feel about visiting a secret spot here in Luhua?” Ganyu’s eyes sparkled. “It’s an area that’s actually been preserved from Ancient Luhua. It’s very well hidden.”

Keqing’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know there were still areas of Luhua that were kept the same. Is it close by?”

Ganyu shook her head. “We’d have to be driven there. I can see if Xiao is around to take us.”

“I can take us there,” Keqing said, not very inclined to see Xiao at that very moment. Or, any moments in general. “Do you have a general location for it?”

“I can tell you where it was in terms of Ancient Luhua,” Ganyu said. “It’s kind of near where the pretty pools used to be. They kept a large willow tree. It still lives because legends say there was a god that blessed it with eternity.”

“And not many know about it? I’m surprised. An immortal tree sounds like it’d be a top tourist attraction.”

“It’s actually well-known for making mortals uneasy,” Ganyu said. “Whoever blessed it with immortality cast a spell on it to ward off mortals by speaking disturbing words into their minds. Truths and secrets that they may have been running from.”

“Uh…” Keqing paused. “And does it not do the same to immortals?”

“It doesn’t.” Ganyu smiled. “I’ve been there. It’s fine.”

“It somehow sounds like a hot spot for lost spirits,” Keqing said. “Hopefully, we don’t have to encounter another one of those. But I wonder why such a spell was made?”

“Mortals have the tendency to destroy parts of nature. Whoever this god was, it’s rumored that their favorite tree was that willow tree. They saw the other trees were being cut down, and they came to save this tree’s fate before it was too late.”

“I’ll have to look into who the god was that did this.” Keqing held up her hand that held Ganyu’s in the air between them. “We need to find an alley that’s going to hide us from the others. Then, I can take us there.”

“I can find one for us. But we may have to run to do this without people trailing us.”

“I’ll be able to keep up,” Keqing said. “Lead the way.”

They ran through the streets of Luhua Business District, and Keqing assumed they both looked ridiculous dashing past people and buildings with heaps of shopping bags. Keqing spared a few glances behind, and each time, she was relieved to find that nobody was following them. They were just winning the wide-eyed stares of those around them.

Ganyu later tugged on Keqing’s hand quickly, although it felt rather more like a yank, and they both slipped into an alley. Ganyu took deep breaths, and she said, “Sorry. That was an unexpected workout, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think running was really necessary,” Keqing said. “I think people would’ve had the idea not to follow us into an alley.”

“You’re probably right.” Ganyu laughed. “Most people wouldn’t. But there are always some who don’t understand boundaries.”

“An unfortunate fact,” Keqing agreed. She tightened her grasp on Ganyu’s hand. “Alright. Are you ready?”

Ganyu inhaled sharply, and the hesitancy in her eyes was evident. “To be honest? Not really. I’ve never… teleported before. How does it feel?”

“It’s going to happen quickly, less than a full second,” Keqing said. “I’m used to it now, but in the beginning, it used to be a little scary. When we get to our destination, you might feel dizzy. You’ll probably stumble. But I’ll catch you.”

“Okay.” Ganyu nodded. “There’s a first for everything.”

“Wait. I’m sorry. I kind of just assumed that you’d be on board with this. I’m too used to traveling around with Ai so I’ve never had to question it.” Keqing took a good look at her. “Are you okay with doing this?”

“I am.” Ganyu nodded. “There aren’t many opportunities for me to experience new things anymore at this age. I’d like to give it a try.”

“There’s no taking it back. You can’t hate me if you don’t like it, okay?” Keqing nudged her shoulder.

Ganyu smiled. “I know what I’m signing up for. Even if I didn’t like it, I could never hate you. I mean, you took away my memories and that didn’t get rid of me.”

Keqing inwardly cringed at the reminder. “Okay. You have a good point. Let’s go.”

As she brought them to the location she had in mind of Ancient Luhua, she worried about Ganyu during the few seconds of travel. She hadn’t ever teleported with someone besides Ai before, and she was grateful Ganyu wasn’t a mortal—she wasn’t sure if mortals would be able to withstand the effects.

When they reached Luhua, Keqing steadied Ganyu by her shoulders. Ganyu let out a deep breath as she opened her eyes. A grin immediately broke out on her face.

“That was absolutely amazing,” Ganyu said, her voice bright. “Can we do it again?”

“Are you okay?” Keqing asked, her eyes searching Ganyu’s face for any hints of distress. “You can be honest with me.”

“I’m okay.” Ganyu gave her a thumbs-up. “It was fun! I don’t feel dizzy at all. Maybe I was meant for this. But enough about me. Look around, Keqing.”

Keqing still wasn’t quite convinced, but she realized she was probably being a little too hyper-aware of the situation. She loosened the breath she’d been holding and glanced around. Keqing landed them pretty close to where the willow tree was. It was a beautiful tree, one with cherry blossoms hanging off of it. There were signs around it, warding mortals off with warnings. Some of the signs read, “EVIL TREE, KEEP OUT,” “BEWARE: Tree with powers to control your mind,” and, “THIS TREE WILL CAUSE YOU TO LOSE YOUR SANITY.”

“I’m surprised this isn’t more well guarded. If it’s really that unpleasant to the mortals, I’d expect them to build some kind of fortress around it,” Keqing said, staring up at the tree. It loomed far above them. “Something so that it’s hard for people to get in.”

“I’m pretty sure people have tried, but the tree prevents them,” Ganyu said. “Immortals could try, since they wouldn’t be influenced by the tree. But nobody has ever agreed to. In some way, that’d be going against Celestia, whoever the god was.”

“It’s such a strange tree,” Keqing said. She looked around at the surroundings. All that was there was a wooden fence around the tree, but there was a clear entrance. The path to it was lined with a trail of pink petals. “Does this tree stay blooming all year?”

“It does,” Ganyu said. “Some people are brave enough to come and take pictures of it from afar, but many don’t. The usual type of group this tree attracts are daring teenagers at nighttime.”

Keqing reached her hand out, and a petal landed on her palm. She looked closer at the petal. It was soft and round, in perfect condition. “Thanks for bringing me here. I never knew such a place existed.”

“Of course.” Ganyu smiled. “Not many can come with me here. So thank you. I like coming here from time to time. Although mortals regard it with a fearful mind, and understandably so, this is the one remnant of Luhua Pool that we have.”

Keqing let the petal fall from her hand and flicked one off Ganyu’s hair. “We should come here more often. Like we used to.”

“We’ll make more memories,” Ganyu said. “If we come here often, we might end up giving mortals some psychological damage when they start coming here often to catch a glimpse of us.”

Keqing gave Ganyu a kiss on the cheek. “Whatever they decide to do is their own decision to make.”

“Maybe it isn’t wise to come here often, then,” Ganyu said, her eyebrows slightly furrowing. “I wouldn’t want our fans to become distressed.”

“You’re very considerate. Too considerate, almost.” Keqing leaned in to give Ganyu a small kiss on the lips this time. “We’ll come here once in a while, then. Not often, but often enough. If that makes sense.”

“Everything you say makes sense to me.” Ganyu laughed and kissed her again.

The kiss was longer, this time. Sweeter. It was like a scene that would play in a movie, the two of them kissing as the cherry blossom petals slowly fell around them. Keqing wished it was a scene, almost, so that she could come back to it and replay it again and again.

The only other option was to recreate this moment each and every time she came here with Ganyu. Nothing too difficult, and with the rest of time they had together, Keqing knew they’d never run out of such sweet moments again.

➵ ✩

“Would you be okay doing a livestream with me? It’s something Director Wu has asked us to do to promote the movie,” Ganyu said, once they were sitting on the couch at her house. “It doesn’t have to be long. You also don’t have to feel obligated to say yes.”

“I’ll do anything to help you and this movie.” Keqing tugged the cardigan Ganyu had given her closer to her chest. It was a sky-blue cardigan with a small Qilin embroidered on the right side. “I’m sure your fans will be happy to see you.”

“They’ll be so excited to see you too.” Ganyu propped her phone in front of a stack of books on the coffee table. She tapped a few times on the screen, then turned around. “Are you ready?”

“Oh! We’re going to start already?” Keqing reached to her head to smoothen any hair strands that could’ve been sticking out. “Do I look ready?”

“Beautiful as always,” Ganyu said, and she leaned forward. “Actually, wait. There’s something on your face.”

Keqing turned her cheek toward Ganyu. “Where?”

Ganyu lightly brushed her finger above Keqing’s eyebrow, then she pressed a kiss to her forehead. “All good now. Let’s go. Ready?”

Keqing lightly grasped Ganyu’s chin with her fingers. She quickly kissed her lips. “Ready.”

“It’s unfair to keep doing that to me,” Ganyu said, pouting. “It leaves me wanting more.”

“I’m all yours already.” Keqing laughed and kissed Ganyu again, their lips moving slowly against each other. She pulled away with a small laugh. “Let’s go.”

Ganyu took a deep breath as she opened her eyes. “Had I not been practicing my patience throughout all of these years, I would’ve ditched the livestream right now. But okay. Let’s do it.”

Keqing laughed as she pulled her knees to her chest. Ganyu started the livestream and sat back next to her.

“Hello, all! A little surprise livestream for you,” Ganyu said, waving at the camera. “I have a very special guest here with me today. I’m sure you all know who she is by now.”

“I’m the rookie actress who’s been somehow blessed with the chance to star alongside Ganyu.” Keqing waved. “How I got cast in this movie? It’s something I wonder about every day.”

“Keqing was cast because she’s an amazing actress,” Ganyu said, patting her shoulder. “You are all going to be absolutely blown away by her performance in ‘Live for Me.’”

“The same for Ganyu. Though, I’m sure we all know she always surpasses our expectations with every role she plays.” Keqing looked upon Ganyu fondly as she bashfully smiled. “It’s true!”

“You’re too sweet.” Ganyu ducked her head slightly. She reached to the table to grab her phone. “Okay. Let’s read some of your comments. I haven’t gone live in a long time. This should be fun.”

Keqing peered over Ganyu’s shoulder at the screen. “They can leave comments as they watch us?”

“I have my comments turned on, so yes.” Ganyu lifted her phone so they both could have a good view. “Let’s see.”

There was a comment highlighted at the top of the screen, alongside a donation of 20,000 Mora.

Ganyu’s Doormat: Quick question. Are you two promoting the movie or your relationship? I beg you, please have mercy on us!! Some of us are painfully single!!

“Ganyu’s Doormat,” Keqing read, suppressing the urge to laugh. “We are indeed here to promote the movie today.”

“We might be promoting both,” Ganyu added, nudging Keqing’s side. “That’s up to you all to decide for yourself.”

“If you’re painfully single as you claim, might I suggest that you pray about it?” Keqing asked.

Ganyu gave a light snort. It was the first time Keqing had ever heard her do it. “Well… That’s true. Everyone, listen well to what Keqing is saying. She never says anything wrong.”

The sudden realization hit Keqing that any new prayers that flooded in would quite literally be the worst for her in the mortal realm right now. So she quickly added, “But, I’ve heard that this isn’t a good time of year to pray for love. Not now. Summertime is usually the best.”

“Better luck next summer, everyone,” Ganyu said, shaking her head. “It’s good, actually. It gives people time to really think about what they want their prayers to be about.”

“Make it worth it,” Keqing agreed. She squinted at the screen. “Someone is asking what my favorite color is. I don’t know if that has any relevance to our movie?”

Ganyu let out a small laugh. “Well. It’s okay. We can still answer it. What is it?”

Whatever Ganyu said was considered truth in her world. “My favorite color…” Keqing trailed off, looking right at Ganyu. “I’ve always found iridescent colors to be the most beautiful. Much like the color of your eyes.”

Ganyu instantly smiled, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she said, “Why, thank you. I’d also say my favorite is the color of your eyes. Everything about you is my favorite, actually.”

“Ah. That’s a grand compliment.” Keqing hummed. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to beat that one.”

“You don’t have to.” Ganyu peered closer at the phone screen. “I see a lot of people commenting on our matching cardigans. No, it wasn’t intentional.”

Keqing caught sight of the comment. It was a highlighted comment with a matching donation of 50,000 Mora.

GANQING LOVER: oh my god their cardigans are matching. GANQING MARRIED?! GANQING MARRIED!! we’ve been blessed today, this is a day to note in our history books, everyone!

Amusement played across Ganyu’s features as she glanced at their cardigans. “Or was it intentional? Who knows.”

“Ganyu can be pretty sly. She gave it to me to borrow, but I’m sure she had her reasons for choosing it.” Keqing poked Ganyu’s shoulder. “I’m assuming these will sell out now since we’ve worn them.”

“That’s usually how it goes. It’s a good thing we got our pair first.”

“Very true.” Keqing’s eyes scanned another comment. “Someone asked if I plan on retiring soon. Um. That’s a great question. Am I retiring after this movie?”

“My sources are telling me no. Who knows what the future holds?” Ganyu smiled. “We might end up starring in a movie together again if everyone likes this one.”

“Don’t let Director Wu hear that,” Keqing mumbled under her breath. She read another comment. “GanyuLover has asked, ‘Who’s that behind you?’ Um. Behind us?” She looked behind herself and saw a painting of a snow-covered mountain. “That’s a piece of art right there. There’s nobody there.”

Ganyu clucked her tongue. “They’re joking. It’s a prank to try and make you think there’s a ghost behind you.”

“Ah.” Keqing looked behind again. “Unfortunately, there is no ghost. It would’ve been exciting if there had been one, though.”

“I’d actually prefer for there not to be a ghost in my home,” Ganyu said, sounding amused. “But to that one person who commented that, there is indeed nobody else in the room with us.”

“Maybe it’s a spirit that can’t be seen with our eyes, but there’s no way for us to know that.” Keqing tapped her chin with a finger. “Maybe the spirit is with you right now, GanyuLover. Have you wronged anyone lately, by any chance?”

“Okay. You’re going to start scaring our audience away.” Ganyu nudged her with her knee and laughed. “Moving on. Someone has asked us to each say something we learned about each other while filming.”

“A very insightful question.”

Ganyu was silent for a moment before saying, “I’ve learned that Keqing has the extraordinary ability to persevere. This was her first acting gig, and she did so well! She never gave up, and she gave it her best. It was so exciting to watch her always improve.”

“That’s so sweet.” Keqing smiled. “As for me, I learned that Ganyu is a great kisser.”

Ganyu’s brows shot up. “Oh, really?”

“The best kisser I’ve ever encountered,” Keqing said proudly, knowing well that Ganyu had been the only person she’d ever kissed. Even if she had kissed everyone in the world, she was sure her judgment would still be correct. “I would tell you all I hope you get to experience it one day, but I’m afraid her kisses are all mine to keep.”

Ganyu was starting to blush. “Okay. At this rate, you might start to get some haters your way.”

“Let them come my way.” Keqing held up her chin in the air. “I’m just speaking the truth.”

Ganyu lifted a finger as she told her phone, “None of you better come after her. You’ll have to deal with me first.”

“She’s a very scary opponent, as you all can see. Don’t mess with her.” Keqing pointed at her horns. “Or she’ll hit you in your sides with these. They’re very pointy, by the way.”

“For the record, I’ve never actually hit anyone intentionally with my horns.” Ganyu frowned.

“I’m trying to paint you as someone they don’t want to mess with,” Keqing said, resisting the urge to laugh at Ganyu’s serious expression. “It’s all for a good reason.”

“I’d never hurt any of you,” Ganyu said, very much looking like she was making an oath. “If you ever sent any hate towards Keqing, I’d sit you all in a lecture hall and teach you all a good lesson. A verbal lesson.”

“I think that’s going to make them want to do it more.”

“They better not!” Ganyu shook her head, taking a glance at the phone. She sighed. “They want to. You’re right. No, everyone. That was not the point.”

Keqing peered over Ganyu’s shoulder. It was true.

MostSaneGanyuFan: i think i need a verbal lesson. like right now

puppyfur: where do i sign up for this?

purpleskies: i’ll jokingly hate if that means i get to be a part of this.

Spiels: Will Keqing be in attendance at this event? I would like to see the both of you together in one room. That’d be a true treat

ganqingfan: did you both meet for the first time on the set of the movie?

“Someone asked if we first met on the set,” Keqing said. “No, actually. We met years before. We didn’t realize at the time, though. We won’t give away more about it, you all can speculate.”

“It was a surprise when we both realized,” Ganyu agreed. “A nice treat. Like opening a box and being surprised with piles of gold.”

“That’s…” Keqing’s eyes widened. “A huge comparison. I think I’d prefer the box of gold instead.”

Ganyu faked a gasp. “Is gold worth more than me?”

“No, no. You misunderstand. I’d use the gold to win you over.”

“You don’t need gold to win me over.” With a shake of her head, Ganyu smiled. “The only gold I need is your heart. I’m sure it’s made of it.”

Keqing hummed as a smile of her own spread across her face. “Okay. That one was good.”

“Just good?” Ganyu tilted her head. Her eyes were big and innocent, and there was a slight pout on her pink lips.

Keqing wasn’t strong enough to resist the urge to kiss her. She kissed her on the cheek first. “More than good. The best.”

“Thanks.” Ganyu let out a soft laugh. “I thought hard about it for you to make sure you liked it.”

“I liked it very much.” Keqing kissed her other cheek. Her fingers trailed up Ganyu’s back, away from the view of the phone. She whispered into her ear, “So, how much longer are we supposed to do this livestream for?”

“I’d say we’ve done enough.” Ganyu waved at the phone. “Thanks everyone for tuning in!”

Keqing wrapped her arm around Ganyu’s shoulder, snaking her hand around until it reached the other end. She waved it. “See you all next time.”

“Bye!” Ganyu waved, and she pressed an icon on the screen to end the livestream. She turned to Keqing with a glint of humor in her eyes. “Well, we’re going to cause quite the commotion online.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed patient.” Keqing sighed as she pressed a kiss to Ganyu’s neck. “But it’s hard when you’re looking at me like that.”

“It’s okay. You were doing what we both wanted to, anyway.” Ganyu’s chest rose as she inhaled. “But it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I liked it. I like you.”

“Just like?”

“You’re right. Like isn’t big of a word to capture how I feel for you.” Ganyu sighed. “It’s a shame.”

“A true shame.” Keqing smiled. A beat of silence passed between them before she said, “I love you.”

It was simultaneous as Ganyu also said to her at that very second, “I love you.”

“Just love?” Keqing asked teasingly, and Ganyu laughed once before she closed the distance between them with a kiss.

The kiss was followed by another one. And another one. It still felt surreal, being able to kiss Ganyu without having the worry of being swept away to be punished by the Divine Elders. Surreal, and yet, she was so grateful that this was their reality.

They continued to kiss on the couch, and Ganyu ended up guiding her body down until Keqing was lying on her back. Ganyu’s knees were on both sides of Keqing’s hips, and Ganyu’s soft fingers were cupping her chin. Her kisses were gentle, each one full of love.

Keqing felt it in her very chest. She felt so loved. She felt loved when Ganyu carefully picked her up and carried them to the bedroom. She felt loved as Ganyu handled her body so gently for the rest of the night, treating her carefully with so much care and affection. Their sweet and soft noises filled the air, an endless heaven that made it feel like everything was okay in the world.

That was how it felt with Ganyu. Ganyu made life better in ways Keqing could've never expected, in ways that she never knew could be.

Keqing knew in her heart that a proposal was in order. It would be their second engagement, but it would be the last. This one would truly count.

➵ ✩

NEW: GANYU AND KEQING BOAST RELATIONSHIP IN TONIGHT’S LIVESTREAM

The stars of the upcoming movie Live for Me decided to answer some questions from fans in a livestream tonight. Fans who were lucky enough to catch the livestream had the chance to ask whatever questions their heart desired. But not only did Ganyu and Keqing answer questions from fans, they also made it quite clear to their fans that they are still happily in a relationship (despite some recent rumors that they had broken up).

See the clip here at your discretion. Warning: you will see a very cute couple, a bit too disgustingly cute.

The livestream comes just weeks in advance of their upcoming movie release in theaters. Book your tickets for the premiere today!

See the fans’ reactions to the livestream below:

Ganyu’s Happy So I’m Happy (@happyganyu):
okay i’m feeling so incredibly single right now but i’m so freaking happy for ganyu. we are witnessing true history right now!! they’re going to write about ganyu and keqing in the books fr AND they were not just best friends THEY ARE LOVERS !! true lovers. goodnight world, i am sleeping so peacefully tonight knowing that ganyu is so happy in love. i may not be, BUT AT LEAST SHE IS!

Ganyu smiled at me 4x and I’m STILL recovering (@ganyusfavorite):
My goodness. I’ve had this livestream on repeat. I still can’t believe these two are real. They’re a gift to us all. A true blessing. I sometimes forget love exists and then I think about those two. And then I get happy and I’m able to sleep at night. My good sleep is thanks to them.

#SEATED FOR LIVE FOR ME (@ganyuiloveyouverymuch):
so basically that whole livestream was just ganqing pointing a finger at me and calling me SINGLE the whole time !!! and yes, i loved every second of it. thank you very much. they could do it again and again, i’d let them. gladly. (i am crying on the bathroom floor)

Just a humble egg (@eggyolkishealthy):
With the movie release so soon, it’s good to see the two of them being so cute together promoting it. I’ll miss when the promotions for the movie are over. Hope to see the two of them star again in another movie! Would that be too much to ask for?

Based on the fans’ reactions, it’s clear that if you felt a little too single watching that livestream, you weren’t alone! It has us wondering just how those two will be on the big screen. We’re counting down the days until the movie!

Stay tuned for more updates.