Work Text:
xx.
“I think that we should end our meeting early for today because apparently some of us are not in the mood to participate.” Ningguang, despite the calm demeanor, doesn’t hide the irritation in her voice. She crosses her arms, an eye twitching from annoyance.
The rest of the Qixing members immediately look to the other side of the table where the object of her ire doesn’t even acknowledge everyone is staring at her. Ningguang already has a few gems swirling between her fingers and has silently taken aim. Before she could throw any of it towards the Yuheng, though, Ganyu elbows the girl, startling her.
“Ganyu, what the—'' Ganyu coughs, trying and failing to inconspicuously tell Keqing to pay attention to everyone else at the table. Being the dutiful secretary that she is, she ends up doing it forcefully, grabbing Keqing by the cheeks in order to redirect her line of sight to the rest of the Qixing. “—heck?”
Ningguang throws a single gem at Keqing to which, of course, someone aptly nicknamed as “Driving Thunder,” known for her speed, is able to dodge with ease. So, she throws another one. And another one. And another.
The other Qixing members and staff start holding their sighs (Ganyu) and laughter (everyone else) in, stray projectiles were not uncommon in the meeting room. But, what is fairly common is the interaction between their Tianquan and Yuheng, especially when they have disagreements.
“Stop!” Ganyu finally screams, immediately going red in the face, sitting back down as soon as everyone in the room gets shocked by her outburst.
Ningguang clears her throat, regaining her composure as Keqing tries to do the same.
“As I was saying, I move that we adjourn the meeting for today. All in favor—”
“Ay!” almost everyone speaks simultaneously, without even letting Ningguang finish. They file out of the room afterwards—in an orderly manner, of course, because they are still honorable members of the Liyue Qixing, after all. Ganyu, still flustered, bids them good day before stepping out and closing the door.
They leave behind a Yuheng, who has a dazed expression on her face, and a Tianquan, who has a headache.
xx.
“You spacing out during a work meeting is highly out of character for you. Should I be worried?”
“I apologize for my behavior. To tell you the truth, I’m… in a predicament.” Keqing replies, nervous energy coming off waves. Ningguang is already thinking the worst, wondering where she would have to hide a dead body and how they would be able to hide it from their constituents. “How much do you know about the Yunlai Clan and our traditions?”
Ningguang blinks, not expecting the question. She answers plainly, “A lot.”
(For a clan as illustrious as the Yunlai Clan, she actually has an entire file cabinet filled with intelligence reports on each member—the thickest of which is on Keqing, of course, considering she is their most interesting member by far. She decides, though, that Keqing would be better off not knowing this tiny bit of information.)
“As expected of the Tianquan,” Keqing mutters, pacing—her heels rhythmically clacking on the floor, the sound of which captivates Ningguang. “Well, you know how our clan changes leaders every time the heir of the current head turns twenty-eight, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
Keqing stops and faces Ningguang fully, inhaling a lungful and exhaling, her shoulders sagging with her next words, “I’m about to turn twenty-eight.”
For the second time that day, Ningguang was not expecting to hear what she just heard.
“Keqing, dear, you literally just turned twenty-seven the other day. You have an entire year.”
“Exactly!” Keqing exclaims, her hands up in the air, before pacing back and forth again. Ningguang finally relaxes now that she knows she doesn't have to be an accomplice to a crime she knew nothing about, storing her idea of throwing a corpse into an opening in the Abyss to the back of her mind for future use. She lounges on her chaise, simply following Keqing with her eyes. Keqing continues, “I only have a year left to convince my entire clan that I am worthy and that I have been taking my responsibilities seriously.”
Ningguang raises an eyebrow at that. “You’re the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing. If they don’t acknowledge the work that you do as Yuheng as being serious about your responsibilities, then maybe they should be introduced to a lexicon to teach them the meaning of the words.”
“I meant clan responsibilities.”
Ningguang rolls her eyes and picks up her pipe. (She wants to smack Keqing in the head with it sometimes, but taking a drag would have to do.)
“And these responsibilities include what, exactly?”
Keqing stops in her tracks, her head slightly bowed and her back to Ningguang, mumbling something the Tianquan couldn’t catch.
“Speak up, dear, I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“I have to get married!” Keqing repeats fiercely but, realizing what she just did, lowers her head again, softly explaining further, “I have to get married, produce an heir, and ensure the survival of our clan for years to come.” Keqing turns around and, when Ningguang doesn’t say anything, she takes it as a cue to continue. “Recently, there’s been some clamor within the clan regarding my eligibility. The elders think I don’t want the position because I’m still unmarried this close to the transfer of leadership. Or—or that I never wanted it in the first place because they have never seen me in a relationship at all. There are even talks amongst themselves of having only male relatives be the only ones eligible for the role since they’ve never had a problem like this with male heirs in their lifetime. I’m afraid they might revoke my right to the seat.”
“I see.” Ningguang speaks after a significant pause, taking a puff of smoke into her mouth and immediately blowing it off in Keqing's direction. She’s trying to make sense of the situation to the best of her abilities. “So, Little Yuheng, how do you plan on solving this dilemma of yours?”
She sees Keqing give a shrug, looking dispirited. “Get married, I guess?”
“That’s an excellent plan but, I have to tell you, that you don’t even seem to have the barest of bare necessities needed for marriage.” Her voice is leaking in sarcasm, however, Keqing seems to be none the wiser. (If she was, then she chose to ignore it.)
“I’ll have you know I already have my own house, one that I designed and built myself. It’s not as lavish as your Jade Chamber, but it definitely has all the essentials,” Keqing replies, gaining back a bit of her enthusiasm whenever she talks about anything related to her line of work. “I also have a stable government job, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about a partner, dear. Unfortunately, you need one to get married.”
“Oh, right. That.” Keqing doesn’t bother refuting, deflating even further. “I don’t even have… prospects.”
“I find it hard to believe that someone of your… status would be lacking in suitors. I also imagined your family would have arranged marriage on your behalf by now.”
“You know how I am.” Keqing sits down next to her on the chaise lounge, her arms on her knees and her head in her hands, sighing deeply before facing her again. “And you know how people think of me.”
“That you’re brash and abrasive and that our newly hired secretaries would always pray to Rex Lapis, asking to be assigned to anyone but you, yes?” Ningguang retorts, a small quirk to her lips, deciding to tease the girl like she usually does in order to alleviate the tension.
She sees Keqing looking irritated at her description—like usual—but, for a tiny flicker of a moment, she thinks she also saw hurt cross her features—unlike usual. It could have been a trick of the light, she’s not sure. She doesn’t get to dwell on it too long, though, snapping out of it when Keqing acknowledges, “Among other things.”
“Yes, certainly, among other things. Although, in my personal opinion, you simply have no time for relationships and that I think you’d rather be married to your job.” Her comment gets her a small smile in return and, right now, she’s fine with just that.
“And—my parents tried, but I refused. I told them I can at least find a life partner on my own. But now, after years of having no progress, I’m having doubts…”
Another puff of smoke, but this time in the opposite direction. This conversation has got Ningguang curious and invested. Among other things.
“You’re always so unwilling to compromise on your beliefs, especially when it comes to how society is run, even going as far as rejecting the thousand-year traditions of our land. So, why is it that you’re willing to bend over backwards now, simply accepting your clan’s traditions when you clearly do not wish to take any part of it?”
Keqing doesn’t answer straight away, choosing instead to swing her feet back and forth as she sits on the chaise, rocking her body in the process. All the while, Ningguang does her best not to comment on their cute Little Yuheng’s height as she waits for her explanation.
“My grandfather taught me everything with the mindset that I’m going to become the head when the time comes,” Keqing says eventually, her hands balling into fists in her lap, “I don’t want all his teachings to be in vain. I don’t—I don’t want to let him down.”
Normally, Ningguang wouldn’t bother. She has since learned long before that family affairs are such delicate matters and, more often than not, are more trouble than they’re actually worth. But— but —something is telling her Keqing is worth it this time.
(She knows what that something is, of course—self-awareness is a key part to success, after all—but she’s not in the business of dealing with it. Not yet, anyway.)
There’s a few minutes of quietude before Ningguang finally breaks the silence between them.
“Then let me propose a…”—a click of the tongue, pausing, because she has the flair for dramatics regardless of the situation—“temporary solution, so to speak. One that is mutually beneficial for both of our circumstances.” Keqing raises an eyebrow, probably wondering what the circumstance is on Ningguang’s part. “You only need to convince your clan that you’re serious about assuming your role as head, correct?”
“For now, yes.”
“Then let’s announce our engagement.”
“Engagement to what?”
“Engagement to each other. We’re getting married, Little Yuheng. Do keep up.”
“Wait, wha—what? Me and—you? Me?”
“We have been dating in secret for a few months now, at the very least. The relationship started during one of our heated arguments. Someone—we weren’t sure who but it was definitely you—ended up kissing the other first and it escalated from there.”
“By escalate, do you mean—”
“That’s what you choose to comment on?”
“I—er, you said a lot, okay!? There’s a lot to process.”
“We kept it a secret from everyone because we wanted to remain professional at work. Some things happened and our feelings have evolved. We now wish to share it with the world.”
“How do you—” Keqing cuts herself off, looking confused and trying to find the words, “You seem to have everything thought out.”
“A side effect of being Tianquan, dear. My mind works fast,”—and if she had come up with this particular scenario in her head a few times way before now, then nobody but herself has to know—”You introduced a problem to me, I’m here merely presenting a viable solution.”
Keqing doesn’t appear convinced, seemingly thinking it over. She asks, “What about the part where I need an heir?“
“Want to get started on that right now?”
“Ningguang?!” Keqing exclaims, tinges of red erupting across her cheeks, “I’m serious.”
“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, especially since I’m not the one who’s part of the clan, but nowhere does it state in any of your written doctrines that the heir must be of blood, yes?”
Keqing crosses her arms, closing her eyes and concentrating deeply, probably going through all the doctrines she’s memorized in her head. After a while, and after most likely not finding anything regarding the matter that Ningguang had pointed out, she asks another question.
“How would being engaged to me be beneficial to you?”
“Having an eye candy hanging off my arm never hurts, you know?” When Keqing doesn’t react in any way—or at least, in that slightly indignant yet adorable little way she wanted her to, Ningguang sighs. “There’s this insufferable businessman from Fontaine who thinks just because I turned on my charm during one of our business meetings, that I’m suddenly beholden to him. To keep him away while I get the most out of our business deals, an engagement would be the biggest proof of my unavailability—second only to marriage, of course.”
“So, basically, you just want me as your guard dog.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ningguang scoffs, “You’re more of a kitty than a dog.” She’s so used to Keqing’s glare that she doesn’t even flinch—but she does have to fight the urge to poke the girl’s nose lest she wants her finger bitten off.
They sit in silence once again, with Keqing continuing to think it over while Ningguang is content just lounging beside her, smoking her pipe. Baishi has already cleared her schedule the moment she saw the both of them walk into her room, so she really doesn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day. (Before her secretary had loudly announced she’d clear her schedule until further notice, she heard the girl mutter something about her one true ship being real—she resolves to ask the Captain about what this means the next time they meet.)
“So what happens late into our fake engagement?” Keqing finally speaks up, questioning, “Are we just going to continue with the farce until our fake wedding? Or do we end it after we get found out by everyone and my clan elects to banish me?”
“Oh, quit being dramatic,” Ningguang replies, waving her off. “We can just call it off anytime you want. We’re both busy people, I’m sure it’ll be easy to tell people how we simply drifted apart and decided to break the engagement because of it. We can even say we broke up for the good of Liyue and people would probably believe it.”
There’s another lull in the conversation—and, if she were to be honest, the longer Keqing drags her decision on, the more Ningguang starts feeling insecure. Is it my plan? Or is it just me?
She tsks, hiding her insecurity behind impatience. “So, are we in agreement? Or do you just not see me as an adequate partner, especially for this endeavor? I’m an adult, I can handle rejection surprisingly well.” (This is a lie. She’s used to getting what she wants—within reason—but, she guesses, this day is just filled with her little white lies coupled with little omissions here and there. In her defense… well, she has none.)
Keqing continues to just stare at her from the side, eventually sighing heavily. “I tried coming up with other options, but they aren’t as well thought out as yours,” Keqing admits in the end, albeit begrudgingly. “Oddly enough, I do think we can pull being in a relationship off. When you’re not trying to annoy me during meetings, you’re actually quite pleasant to talk to. You’re also the only one who can put up with me.”—and Keqing smiles sheepishly, a finger scratching an imaginary itch on her nose—“And I do think you are very beautiful… so, as you said, there’s no harm in having eye candy hanging off my arm.”
Ningguang can feel the start of a blush form, so she looks away, blowing her pipe to distract the woman beside her from noticing. She opens up her fan for good measure, obscuring her face as she tries to calm down. It’s honestly not her fault that her own face likes reacting to praise, whether intentional or not.
“Thank you, dear,” she replies, closing her fan to smile genuinely at Keqing, “You’re quite attractive yourself.” Unlike her, the flush on Keqing’s face was instantaneous as usual—her own smile turning into a smirk at the familiar sight. Ah, much better.
(Ningguang has had arrangements with a fair number of people before, so her arrangement with Keqing this time is no different—she tells herself, like a liar, as if this isn’t feeling like she’s taking the biggest risk of her life.)
“Do you wish for a written contract?”
“No, our verbal agreement is enough for me. But, I do think we should set some ground rules.” Keqing stands up, a hand on her chin, head tilting a bit to one side and staring straight at Ningguang, as if sizing her up. “Please do not smoke whenever we’re together.”
Ningguang tilts her head right back, a quirk to her eyebrow, contemplating the pros and cons of having such rules set. Ultimately, she puts her pipe down on the side table, a sign that she’s agreeing. She takes her fan, fiddling with it as consolation. As she’s doing so, a thought forms in her mind, making her grin. “We’ll both take one day off weekly.”
“What!?”
“Please, dear, it’s one day. If we’re to sell this relationship to your clan, they at least have to see that we actually do spend time together outside of work. If you’re working through all days of the week, then they won’t be able to see that,” she reasons, driving her point, “If you want, you can still think of it as work, as in work you're doing for your clan, that is.”
Keqing starts grumbling unintelligible words, looking every bit like a petulant child. “Fine.”
“If all it took for you to follow the labor code and start using your government-mandated rest days to actually rest was to be in a relationship, then I would have ensured you had a dozen suitors lining up for you.”
“This is different!” She points out, barely containing herself from stomping a foot on the ground. “Also, that’s another ground rule: Stop teasing me! And you’re not allowed to screw me over, especially to make a profit.”
“While teasing you is something I can’t control,”—Keqing raises both her hands up in frustration, a sign of giving up her case, amusing Ningguang to no end—“Do you think so lowly of me that you think I would bring Mora into our relationship? You wound me, my dear Yuheng.”
“Fake relationship.” Ningguang rolls her eyes, her fingers actually itching to pick up the pipe she placed down earlier. “You’re certainly capable of doing so, but whether or not you would do it, I’ll postpone my judgment at a later time.”
“Right,” she drawls, opening her fan again because without her pipe she can’t seem to keep her hands still. “Any other conditions you want to set?”
“That’s all for now. How about you? I’ve set two, you can set another one to be fair.”
“I’m free to tease you all I want.”
“That can’t be a rule!”
“Oh?” Ningguang pouts—exaggeratedly, in Keqing’s opinion—folding her fan close and tapping it to her chin, as if in deep thought. “Then aside from our day offs, I’ll also be taking charge of both of our schedules, personal and official. You’re allowed to veto any changes I make, of course. I’m a reasonable person.”
“Isn’t that a bit too much?”
“Not at all.”
“Why does it feel like I’m signing my life away? Seriously…”
“I’m an expert at keeping up appearances. You don’t have to worry your pretty little twintails off as long as I’m in charge.“
“Is it too late to say you can tease me all you want instead?”
“Don’t fret, I’ll be doing that regardless.”
Keqing pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tightly—whether she’s curbing a headache or her temper, Ningguang doesn’t know, but she keeps her mouth shut just to be safe. (The Captain once taught her a life lesson that was apparently famous from another land: something about speaking of ordure and getting hit with it in return.) Eventually, Keqing exhales a heavy breath, resting her hands on her hips, tension quelled.
“What have I gotten myself into?” Ningguang doesn’t sense any animosity in her words, not even dread, which is a good sign at least. It would be easier to fool people into thinking that they’re in a relationship as long as Keqing isn’t repulsed by it.
“So that’s it then,” Ningguang says, standing up and walking up to Keqing. She stretches a hand in front of her and declares, “We’re engaged.”
“I guess we are.” Keqing takes the hand, shaking it firmly. “Until the end of our contract.”
And Ningguang simply nods, silently hoping she’ll make it through until then.
xx.
As per their agreement and Ningguang’s suggestion—and to start the fire, so to speak—they schedule appearances together at work meetings and business dinners. To fan the flames even further, they have synchronized most of their schedules and all of their days off.
(They would assign Saturdays as the day they would shop together at Feiyun Slope. Sometimes, they would come across one of the princes of the Feiyun Commerce Guild, who would always be seen together with his exorcist friend. Other times, they’d see the current director of the Yun-han Opera Troupe arm in arm with Liyue’s rock’n’roll pioneer, who both would be followed closely by Cloud Retainer’s one and only beloved disciple.
They would eat most lunches together at Chihu Rock. Sometimes, the Qixing’s General Secretary—when she’s not as busy as other days—or The Crux’s Captain—when her fleet’s anchored at the port—would join them. They would go to Wanmin Restaurant together and the Head Chef would be there to serve them their favorite food. The director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor would sometimes be there as well, passing flyers to other patrons while their peculiar consultant would sit and watch. Everyone’s favorite legal adviser would pass by from time to time, but mostly just to remove the funeral director from the premises.
When it’s too late for lunch and too early for dinner, they would visit Heyu Teahouse. Sometimes, the Yun-han Opera Troupe would be performing to a full audience. Other times, the Tianquan’s special intelligence officer would join them. One time, when the Yuheng had asked why she would opt to drink tea with them when she owns a teahouse herself, this supposed intelligence officer just laughed.
And, to the shock of many in the Yuehei Pavilion and everyone who’s familiar with the Yuheng, she would often be seen ascending to the Jade Chamber, resting inside the Tianquan’s office after long hours of doing her own work or after her long expeditions all over Liyue—the part where she’s resting is the shocking part, of course. Apparently, nobody even batted an eyelid when news of their engagement began to spread—news that Ningguang started, obviously.)
It’s now been three months since their relationship began—their fake relationship, Ningguang amends, always having to remind herself of that fact—and a letter from Jean arrives on her desk in the middle of one morning.
Through the letter, Jean invites her to Ludi Harpastum, Monstadt’s longstanding and most famous festival. Specifically, Jean has invited her and her fellow Qixing members to the main event and the songs, wine, and flight that follow after.
Since the letter was addressed to her personally and not the Office of the Tianquan or the Qixing, she decides to take it as a personal invitation instead of an official one. She's sure the other members wouldn't mind if she only brings her fiancee with her. Maybe they could make a trip out of it…
A familiar and unmistakable clack of heels disrupt her train of thought.
“Good morning, I brought you breakfast,” Keqing says, moving through Ningguang’s office as if it’s her own and rummaging through her cupboards for the utensils she needed. “Baishi mentioned how a Fatuus forced his way into your timetable, ruining your entire morning schedule. I’m not as good as your chef but I do think I have your tastes figured out by now.”
“Oh? Is it precise, pure, smart, and sophisticated the way I want?”
“I have no idea how that even translates into food, Ningguang. I wouldn’t know where to get you something like that.”
“Really? I’m staring at one right now.”
Keqing stops what she’s doing and looks around, confused. A second later she’s burning up, realizing what Ningguang meant at last. “I’m not on the menu?!”
Ningguang believes this to be fact: the sun rises in the east and kisses Keqing on the cheeks, and that she’s forever lucky she’s even able to witness its traces on her face. “Shame,” she tells her instead.
Keqing serves the soup to Ningguang, taking extra care in moving aside whatever documents were in the way. She then sits opposite her, an expectant audience to her reaction.
Ningguang eyes the bowl, then Keqing, and then the bowl again. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Keqing not to poison her, but— “You made this?” Keqing nods, looking proud of herself.
“It’s just cabbage boiled in a broth of leftover chicken though. I don’t really keep that many ingredients in my pantry considering I’m barely home.”
Ningguang takes the bowl offered to her and scoops a spoonful of the soup, tasting it cautiously. It isn’t as flavorful as any of the soups her chef makes, she notes, but it’s warm and—“It's perfect, thank you.” Keqing nods, looking relieved, and starts eating from her own bowl.
It comes to no surprise to Ningguang that Keqing is a very thoughtful and attentive lover. After all, Keqing has always been an overachiever and it appears that it is no different when it comes to love—even if fake, at that.
Just then, Baishi enters her office, far too engrossed in checking the files she’s carrying to notice that Keqing is currently in the room as well. “Ms. Ningguang, I brought the reports you requested earlier. Just as you said, there seems to be some…”—a movement in her periphery pulls her attention, halting her movements—“Ms. Keqing?”
“Aha!” Keqing exclaims, finding and retrieving another set of utensils from the cupboard—after a bit of difficulty this time since most of the items left are at the back, slightly out of reach. “Maybe you should invest in cupboards that are at regular people's height, Ningguang; not all of us can be a mountain like you,” she snipes at Ningguang who only rolls her eyes at her. “Baishi, come join us. I made soup.”
Baishi looks over to Ningguang, who has just been quietly eating her meal, staying out of the conversation. But! She has been her Lady’s secretary long enough to know when she’s being subtly asked to leave, so she tries. Desperately. “It’s alright, Lady Keqing. I’m only here to deliver these reports. I can come back later if there’s a need to discuss them.” She places the reports on top of another pile and starts backing away.
“No, no, I’m the one intruding during the work day, so come here,” she says, already filling a bowl with soup. She lightly places a hand on the small of Baishi’s back, gesturing for her to sit with them. “Unless they’re top secret, then I can leave you two alone?”
With the hand on her back and the smile that their ever handsome Yuheng directs at her, Baishi can’t help the sudden flush that spreads across her cheeks, even to the tips of her ears. Unfortunately, the threatening aura coming from the other side of the table intensifies. Not wanting to die an untimely and gruesome death, she takes the bowl offered to her, moving hurriedly away from both Qixing members. “I’ll eat outside, Lady Keqing. Thank you for the meal!” Just as she is about to step out the door, she stops abruptly, turning around. “Lady Ningguang,” she calmly addresses, before bowing and finally running off.
“Huh, what’s with her?” Keqing muses out loud, getting back to her seat. Ningguang smiles innocently, shrugging, taking another spoonful. “Guess my overly uptight reputation extends to even secretaries who don’t work directly under me…”
I bet she’d like to work under you, Ningguang thinks to herself, with barely enough self-control not to whine about it openly. She’s found that many of her staff seem to have gotten swayed by Keqing’s charms recently, especially with her visits increasing in frequency. And, although Ningguang has been aware of this fact since long ago, spending more time with her only cemented what she knows: Keqing is oblivious to the effect she has on everyone around her.
On one hand, she wants Keqing to realize that she is loved and admired, despite what she thinks or how she perceives her reputation is. On the other hand, if Keqing were to… change , then Ningguang doesn't know if there would still be space for her in Keqing’s life. After all, they’re only in this relationship—fake relationship—because Keqing thought no one else could tolerate her and that she had no other choice. What if she knew she did? Have a choice, that is.
So—
She decides to be selfish for a bit, taking what she can for as long as she’s able to.
“I’ve applied for a week-long vacation leave for both of us next month.” Keqing unceremoniously starts choking on her soup but, knowing she’ll be fine, Ningguang remains unfazed, continuing, “Grandmaster Jean has invited us to Ludi Harpastum.”
Keqing glares at Ningguang who simply offers her a glass of water, which she drinks immediately. She takes a table napkin, wiping her mouth on it before asking, “For an entire week? Is this official business or did you just want to take a vacation?”
“Would you still go on this trip with me if I said it was the latter?”
Keqing downs the rest of her soup, standing up to clear the table of all their bowls and utensils. She takes their leftover soup and leaves it at another table, setting Ningguang’s desk to its original condition. Then she sighs, hands to her hips but a smile on her lips.
“You’re going to somehow rope me into it anyway, might as well pretend I have some semblance of control and agree to it.”
“Good choice.”
And Ningguang smiles right back, relaxed and genuine—something she’s finding herself doing more and more each day Keqing’s around.
xx.
On the first day of their week off, Ningguang takes them to her most trusted dressmaker for some last minute alterations to the brand new formal outfits she had commissioned for them. She had asked for something appropriate for a festival in Mondstadt, but required it to maintain a generous touch of Liyue’s style.
On the second day, they begin traveling.
An hour or so in, they stop by Emerald Maple Inn—an establishment not far from Liyue Harbor—because the owner is apparently an old friend of Ningguang’s. Keqing thinks Ningguang is only making this an excuse just so they could sightsee. She believes the surprised faces of the inn’s staff upon seeing them confirms her suspicions: Ningguang is just doing whatever she wants. Again.
They stay in Wangshu Inn for the night, in a single room to keep up appearances. When they get inside their room, there are two twin beds and Verr Goldet actually apologizes to them on how the Honeymoon Suite has been fully booked for months and they couldn’t slot them in at such short notice. Ningguang makes a show of being disappointed but thanks her anyway for giving them a room isolated from the rest of the main inn. Keqing, for her part, doesn’t say anything—her ears turning red at the tips is the only giveaway that she’s even paying attention.
They arrive in Mondstadt late into the third day of their week off. Jean greets them at the gates, informing them how one of her patrolling knights had seen them pass leisurely through Dawn Winery earlier, heading for Springvale. Keqing suddenly starts spouting out things like, Ningguang is innocent, mostly! and that they weren’t there to steal information on how Dawn Winery managed to become successful—or anything!
Jean raises an eyebrow, sharing a look with Ningguang—the latter of the two not bothering to hide her amusement. Keqing is a horrible liar and Ningguang will never not find it cute. Jean is used to Ningguang’s antics—most of her correspondence with the Liyue Qixing has always been through their Tianquan—so she just shrugs and shows them around Mondstadt.
On the fourth day, Ludi Harpastum is in full swing—and nearing its end.
“You didn’t have to have a suit tailor-made for me, you know? I could have just worn the dress I wore last time—Lanyang even got it out of storage beforehand, thinking I’d be wearing it too.”
“You could have, but I didn’t want you to—not when I knew you’d look simply ravishing in a suit.”
Ningguang closes the buttons on Keqing’s shirt, slowly, then does the same for the matching waistcoat. She then proceeds to retouch Keqing’s makeup, making sure to keep it light the way she knows Keqing prefers it.
The tailor she commissioned for the suit was adamant that sticking to the Yuheng’s original color palette would be the best option and seeing the finished product in front of her now has her inclined to agree. All the sights she can afford to see from her Jade Chamber and yet—and yet , Keqing remains the most beautiful she’s ever seen.
Since they considered this trip a personal vacation, they had chosen to travel without staff, bringing only their travel essentials with them. As a result, they ended up doing their own hair and makeup, as well as preparing the clothes they’re about to wear—well, Ningguang did most of the work. If Keqing were in charge, she’d go into any event straight from an expedition.
And while Baishi had been the one to book their stay in Wangshu Inn—and probably the reason why Verr Goldet brought up the Honeymoon Suite to them in the first place—Jean had prepared everything else for their stay in Mondstadt. She even included a Favonius Knight who is currently waiting for them outside The Goth Grand Hotel to escort them to that night’s event—a grand banquet to celebrate the festival’s success.
This time, they’re sharing a room with a single bed because Jean had pulled a few strings to get them into the hotel despite the Fatui still occupying most of it. (She casually mentions how it’s concerning how there’s been so many of them lately both in Liyue and their closest ally Mondstadt, but the Acting Grandmaster personally assured her that if anything untoward were to ever happen, she would be sure to relay any information to the Qixing posthaste.)
“We should head out before Acting Grandmaster Jean sends a search party for us.” Keqing expresses, standing behind Ningguang, fiddling with the buttons on her suit, waiting.
“She’s not you, dear.”
Keqing huffs, embarrassed. “That was one time.”
“One time too many.” Ningguang comments, raising an eyebrow which Keqing sees through the mirror. She does her best to do her own makeup as efficiently as she can, but with Keqing looking as though she’s so enraptured by her every movement, she’s tempted to put on a little show instead—which she doesn’t do, surprising herself. It takes a lot of her willpower not to tease the girl any further but she manages. She scrutinizes her outfit one last time, wearing her signature claws on as a finishing touch to her ensemble. She neatly puts away the rest of her makeup products and accessories before turning around to finally face Keqing, who has just been observing her this entire time.
“You gave the children at the docks quite the scare, you know that?”
“You were late, okay!?” Keqing, defending herself and grumbling, “You’re never late…”
“And I’ve apologized for that.” she replies, poking Keqing’s nose with all the affection she can muster through her talons, “The kids were more excitable than usual, I lost track of time. You know, you’re always free to join me during my time with them, if you want? So you can make sure I’ll never be late to our appointments again."
“I’ll think about it,” Keqing grunts, letting Ningguang fuss over her outfit again.
They prepare to go out, holding hands and fingers intertwined—because Ningguang has to maneuver their fingers together in a way that would keep Keqing’s safe from her oversized nails and because Ningguang is in heels taller than her usual pair and definitely not because she just wanted to hold hands—but there’s a knock on the door before they can open it. A Knight greets them, looking sheepish, relaying to them that it’s apparently become so late that Master Jean had gotten worried. Hearing this, Keqing gives off a smug look as if to say I told you so. Ningguang simply rolls her eyes, good-naturedly.
The banquet at the square is an informal affair. The stalls are still all over the place—of food and games and trinkets and whatnots—but there are now tables filled with beer and wine, free for anyone of age to consume courtesy of Dawn Winery. Good Hunter and Cat’s Tail have also teamed up together with the Knights of Favonius to provide extra refreshments, good for those who prefer their sustenance nonalcoholic—at one of the bartenders from Cat’s Tail’s insistence, apparently.
Jean and Lisa see them first, approaching them languidly—Lisa’s hand on the crook of Jean’s arm, their outfits complementing each other’s, not unlike Ningguang and Keqing’s.
“Lady Ningguang and Lady Keqing, welcome to Ludi Harpistrum. Are you two enjoying yourselves?”
“Please, Jean, no need to be so formal. We’re on vacation.”
“Ah, apologies. I didn’t realize you’re on vacation,” Jean says, her free hand rubbing the back of her head, running it through her ponytail. “I mean, thank you for visiting Mondstadt on this joyous occasion. I hope you continue to enjoy Mondstadt life for the duration of your stay.”
“And thank you for hosting us,” Ningguang replies, naturally leaning into Keqing’s side as she speaks, “If you and Lisa ever decide to do the same in Liyue, don’t hesitate to—”
“Enough about that,” Lisa graciously interrupts, knowing full well that if she doesn’t, then they would ultimately start talking about their respective nation’s affairs—both in business and in politics—very soon. “I hear congratulations are in order? Ningguang, the last time we talked you were single and very miserable about it.”
Ningguang raises an eyebrow, a not-quite-glare, silently communicating with Mondstadt’s one and only purple witch.
Lisa may or may not have been the only other person she has ever revealed her feelings to—with both women sending letters to each other, usually several pages long filled with their complaints about certain co-workers, women their equal, who are too oblivious for their own good. Except—Keqing doesn’t need to know about any of these if she can help it, so Ningguang wants Lisa to stop.
Lisa doesn’t stop.
“Jean and I heard it first from passing Liyue merchants one day, and we thought it may have just been rumors that cropped up after seeing both of you working together for so long. The Tianquan and the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing? Engaged?” Lisa’s voice is nothing but saccharine, yet it fails to mask the electrifying air that is slowly rising. “Imagine our surprise when you made an official announcement.” Innocent onlookers feel the shift, with non-vision holders bearing the brunt of it. Ningguang knows it’s her fault—she may or may not have purposely left the engagement and any details related to it out of the last few letters they exchanged. Maybe.
“Lisa,” both Jean and Ningguang call out her name at the same time—with varying degrees of affection, of course.
“What?”—and they give her a look, in sync—”Fine,” Lisa relents, pouting. “But I am serious, let’s talk.” Through all this, Keqing remains oblivious, resembling a lost child in the middle of intimidating adults—her own electro vision making her immune to the charged atmosphere that came and went.
And Ningguang sighs, not really wanting to explain herself. She acquiesces, though, aware of how determined Lisa can be if she wants to. She looks to her side and asks, “Will you be okay on your own?”
“This is not my first event, Ningguang.” Keqing rolls her eyes, albeit not unkindly.
“I just worry that some rich aristocrat might sweep you off your feet. You have the tendency of going weak at the sight of big breasts, darling, and I’m told Mondstadt is home to very shapely nobles,” she says sweetly, lowering her head and whispering, “Have I mentioned you look delectable tonight?”
Before Keqing could argue—that no, she does not, in fact, like big breasts, what are you talking about?—Ningguang leans her body at the perfect height, purposely exposing her cleavage to tease the shorter girl. Keqing drags her line of sight right where Ningguang wants it—They’re right there! How could she not look?—before immediately dragging her eyesight back up and swatting Ningguang's face away from hers, blushing heavily. “Okay! Go already!”
Ningguang opens the fan in her hand, hiding her giggles behind it. She walks away with Lisa, their arms linked as they move to a quieter corner in the vicinity. Not even long after they left, Lisa notices Ningguang’s attention has already abandoned her entirely. She knows her friend has had feelings for the Yuheng for as long as Lisa’s known her, it’s… cute, if she were to be honest. The mighty Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing is a fair maiden at heart, after all.
Ningguang catches Keqing’s eye, who gives her a shy, confused wave before going back to whatever topic she’s talking about with Jean. Judging by the enthusiasm plastered on her face, it’s definitely work-related. (She has forgotten when she first found it endearing—the way Keqing has always been so passionate about her job despite not many people around her sharing her zeal—but she did and she still does after all this time she’s known her. She doubts it would ever change.)
“A potion that prevents you from sleeping?!” They hear and see Keqing as she suddenly bursts out, with Jean nodding her head looking equally excited as her.
“Workaholics,” Lisa mutters, facepalming. “My Jean probably told your Keqing about her very terrible idea. A potion that can keep its user awake is simple enough to make, but no way am I letting her work more hours in a day than necessary. No need to worry, I’m making no such thing and I have instructed our resident alchemists to do the same.”
“Please.” Ningguang groans, sympathizing with Lisa's plight. “I have to constantly ask and remind Keqing to delegate her tasks, but she is too stubborn for her own good. Sometimes I feel like she even forgets she has the entire Milileth’s manpower at her disposal.”
“Oh? Maybe you can… persuade her through other methods,” Lisa suggests coyly, sipping on her wine with an eyebrow raised at her. “It’s very effective on Jean, I’ll tell you that.”
Ningguang actually wishes she could do just that. If their relationship were real, she definitely would have done these… other methods in a heartbeat. If their relationship were real, perhaps… She shakes her head, stopping herself from wishing any further. But, maybe, she still could—
“You shock yourself awake?!” It’s Jean’s turn to burst out as Keqing, most likely, explains what she does in order to be able to work through long hours on the field and at her desk.
And it’s Ningguang’s turn to facepalm. Lisa starts chuckling beside her, highly amused, and Ningguang can’t help but join in on the laughter.
“They can be a handful, but we love them anyway,” Lisa tells her, pure adoration in her eyes as she observes their two counterparts engaging in an interesting conversation regarding their admirable yet downright awful work habits. Ningguang doesn’t need a mirror to know she’s wearing the same look on her face.
“Yes, we do.” She downs the Dandelion Wine in her hands in one go—its sweet aftertaste a balm to Ningguang’s bitter thoughts. In the distance, a game of Pile ‘Em Up gets too rowdy and Jean and Keqing, the perfect pieces of chivalrous specimen that they are, immediately go to help. The commotion was enough for Ningguang to finally look away from Keqing, both Lisa and her resuming their chat.
She doesn’t tell Lisa everything, just enough to satiate her curiosity. Their conversation—filled with gaps as it may have been—ends up finally making her wonder what she’d do in the long run and how she’d be able to explain it to the people she’s close with—or how she would be able to explain it to herself. Maybe Keqing was right to worry about it, she thinks, remembering the moment of their agreement from months ago. (After all, she’s confident she can lie to an entire nation, but she doesn’t know if she can do the same to herself.)
As the night wears on, the banquet is soon coming to a close and a last dance has just been announced to finish it off.
Although it rarely happens, Ningguang’s feet start hurting in her heels. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve some of the pain. Keqing notices immediately—because, of course, she does—and asks permission to carry her to the nearest available chair in the room.
With her head in the crook of Keqing’s neck—a bit tipsy from the wine and Keqing’s perfume—her voice low and barely audible, she confesses, “You know, a lady could get used to this.”
“What are you talking about? Get used to basic human decency?”
Ningguang stiffens, erroneously thinking Keqing would not be able to hear what she just said over the noise in the ballroom. So, she plays if off, not ready for a serious discussion. “You. You being an absolute gentleman.”
Keqing suppresses a laugh, shaking her head, before setting her down on the chair. She then removes Ningguang’s heels, cradling Ningguang’s foot in order to assess the damage. Ningguang blushes for what feels like the first time that night, her face heating up further at the slightest touch to her feet.
Once Keqing is satisfied that Ningguang’s condition isn’t so dire—just something a quick application of the salve she brought with her can fix—she sets her feet down and asks, “Would the lady allow me the honor of tonight's last dance?”
“As you can see, I’m a bit… indisposed at the moment,” she replies, still a bit embarrassed.
“I can carry you.”
“Through the entire dance?”
“Do you doubt my strength, Lady Tianquan?“
With the way Keqing is looking at her—soft, as if she’s holding the last plate of Golden Shrimp Balls in the entirety of Teyvat in her hands; as if she’s in love with her, the way Ningguang is and has always been with her—Ningguang closes her eyes, shaking her delusional thoughts away. She accepts.
Despite their height difference—Ningguang towering over the girl, even without her heels on—Keqing lets her step on her feet, managing to carry her through the entire song. They’re merely swaying along by themselves, not even matching the upbeat music of their surroundings.
Yes, she could get used to this.
That night, Keqing carries her from the square and all the way to their hotel room.
(Ningguang has never doubted the Yuheng’s strength. It’s always been her own heart she considers weak—weak for continuing to want the one thing she cannot afford despite all the Mora in the world.)
They spend another day in Mondstadt—the fifth day of their week off—for some informal courtesy calls to their friends and allies. They leave on the sixth and they’re back in the Jade Chamber late into the seventh night.
They’re both at work the day after.
xx.
“My parents want to meet you soon,” Keqing tells Ningguang with no preamble as she makes herself comfortable on the chaise lounge, hugging Ningguang instinctively, resting her face on her chest and sighing contentedly. “And then we’re meeting with the Council of Elders after. I’ll check both of our schedules to ascertain when we’ll be free.” Her words end up getting muffled but Ningguang manages to gather that’s what she seems to be saying anyway.
(She wakes up using Ningguang’s breasts as a pillow once, then suddenly it’s all she does at the Jade Chamber. Ningguang doesn’t complain or stop her because, well, frankly, she has no reason to deny Keqing the warmth she’s able to give—is what she tells herself everyday.)
They have been engaged—fake engaged, she always seems to forget that part—for over six months now and it seems that news of their engagement has finally reached the Yunlai Clan.
She quips, “News seems to travel slowly in a clan whose prestige lies in the speed of their swordsmanship. It did take six months to reach them, after all.”
Keqing raises her head up, just enough so she could speak without having a mouthful of Ningguang’s boobs in the way. “They were probably making sure it wasn’t just hearsay. They most likely didn’t want a repeat of what happened last Lantern Rite.” Ningguang raises an eyebrow, soundlessly asking for further explanation and Keqing just sighs, burying her face in cleavage again.
Ninguang assumes she probably meant the Traveler and how they were all over the place together during the previous Lantern Rite. She feels a little jealous, if she were to be honest, but she knows it was her fault as to why they were even together in the first place.
She starts combing through purple hair, scratching scalp here and there, mindful not to disturb the hairstyle Keqing actually spends a lot of time doing every morning. (She knows this because Keqing has stayed overnight enough times that she has already memorized her morning routine. She’s tempted to include it in her file but she decides against it, wanting to be the only one who’s privy to such a personal, inconsequential thing.) And she swears Keqing starts purring in return, nuzzling her face into the coziness of Ningguang’s bosom, dozing on and off.
While her hands are preoccupied, she thinks about what Keqing just said. She’s hesitating—meeting the family is one of the biggest steps in any relationship, real or pretend. Their approval would mean the most to Keqing and—isn’t this the whole point of this charade? To get their approval? Well, not on their engagement, exactly, but approval on Keqing’s life choices—which apparently also includes how fit her choice of wife would be to the clan and their traditions. (She still hasn’t sorted out their plan regarding an heir but, she figures, they’ll cross that bridge when they get there—if they ever do get there.)
“The seed we’ve planted in everyone’s minds seems to have germinated and matured quite nicely. Everyone truly believes we’re together—in love and engaged,” she whispers softly, mostly to herself since Keqing seems to be out of it. “We’re going to look great in front of your parents and clan elders, and you’re going to seal your role as head after everything’s said and done. I’ll make sure of it.” She ends her words with a kiss to Keqing’s hair, the scent of her shampoo immediately invading her senses. She doesn’t want to move away, wanting nothing more than to breathe her in longer, but she does—she knows she has to.
Keqing’s head shoots up when she feels the faint movement. She looks at her confused, but doesn’t say anything, ultimately falling back asleep. Ningguang sighs in relief, hugging the girl more firmly, closing her eyes to rest for just a while.
Baishi finds them the morning after, on the floor beside the chaise lounge. Lady Ningguang’s head is on Lady Keqing’s chest, her arms around the Yuheng, looking the most peaceful Baishi’s ever seen her despite how uncomfortable their position seems to be. She’s not sure if they intentionally slept there or if they fell. She doesn’t dare to ask.
Just as she’s about to go near them to wake them up—concerned for the Qixing’s well-being, of course—Lady Keqing wakes up first. She looks a little disoriented, but she takes the time to caress Lady Ningguang’s face when she realizes she’s still sleeping on top of her, moving her hair out of the way. She even starts humming a tune, seemingly content so early in the morning despite having spent the night on a cold, hardwood floor.
Baishi stands there, feeling like she’s intruding on a moment she shouldn’t have. She would have left them alone but, unfortunately, there are some pressing matters the Tianquan needs to attend to soon, so—she clears her throat, hoping to get their attention.
It works and Keqing, her cheeks now colored red, immediately pries herself from Ningguang’s body as gently as she can. Then, she picks her up and lays her on the bed, tucking her in and instinctively pressing her lips to her forehead… which makes her go even redder when she remembers Baishi is right there, seeing everything.
She shuffles both herself and Baishi out of Ningguang’s room, telling the secretary to move around her schedule an hour later. Baishi tries to reply—again, something urgent has come up—but Keqing presses a finger to Baishi’s lips lightly, effectively shutting her up.
“I know this would be asking for too much but I would really appreciate it if you were to give Ningguang another hour to rest. It was my fault for keeping her up late last night and I take full responsibility.”
Baishi’s mind has already gone into overdrive, coming up with all the scenarios the two Qixing members could have done that resulted in Lady Keqing having to, she quotes, take responsibility. It doesn’t take long before she gasps, audibly, covering her mouth with both of her hands. Her face burns scarlet as she salutes and stiffly marches down the hall, leaving behind a highly confused Keqing in her wake.
(Ningguang wakes up two hours later, with Keqing beside her on the bed, dressed comfortably and going over scrolls with a meticulous grace for someone whose hair is sticking out all over the place. Keqing tells her she has opened up most of their schedule for the next few weeks—Ningguang raises an eyebrow at this, but she doesn’t ask how she’s managed to do so—and that all they have to do now is pick a day.
They agree on a weekend.)
“You know, my entire wardrobe has doubled in size in the last few months alone,” Keqing comments, dusting invisible lint from her new dress. “You spoil me too much.”
The day they chose to meet with Keqing’s family has finally arrived. When she showed up at the Jade Chamber to pick Ningguang up earlier, she was immediately ushered in by Lanyang, telling her to change into the outfit that had been prepared for the day—another matching outfit.
“But I like spoiling you,” Ningguang replies, pouting. She takes a mental note to thank Lanyang the next time they meet for her services and her impeccable taste.
Keqing rolls her eyes, but there’s a quirk to her lips, levity clear at the childlike display. She remarks, “You can start by not buying everything I want to buy at double the price only to have you give it to me in the end.”
“Just think of it as me giving back to the community.”
They continue bickering as they walk through the Yunlai Clan compound, their fingers entwined, with Keqing leading the way to her parents’ house. They also pass by some people practicing the Yunlai Sword Arts and Ningguang can’t help but comment about how good it is to see the clan thriving in the modern era.
“I love the clan so much, but I still wish to see it move forward. I fear that if we continue with the way things are, we’ll eventually suffer the same fate as most of the other clans in Liyue.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to do it,” Ningguang reassures her, squeezing the hand that’s interlocked with hers, trying to convey her sincerity.
Keqing squeezes back just as firmly, replying, “I hope so. Becoming the clan’s leader is an honor and a privilege, but it is also a monumental undertaking.”
“An undertaking that you don’t have to bear on your own. I’ll be with you for as long as you need me.”
And they share a smile, simply basking in each other’s presence.
It’s Keqing’s father who interrupts them, clearing his throat and snapping them out of the trance they seemed to have gotten themselves in. They had apparently reached their destination without even realizing it and are currently blocking the doorway of Keqing’s childhood home. Seconds later, Keqing’s mother pushes her father out of the way, immediately hugging both of them right where they’re standing.
“So it’s true this time!” Her mother exclaims, “Our baby has finally found herself engaged.”
“Oh?” Ningguang, thinking this is probably going to be one of the last times they’re going to pretend, plays it up, trying her best to be charming and beguiling. “I may or may not have been silently perturbed when I heard our Keqing was rumored to be with someone who wasn’t me… It may or may not have been the catalyst that brought us together.” She winks at Keqing’s mom and then Keqing herself just to see her reaction.
And, once again, Keqing’s father interrupts them with another throat-clearing. “Let’s have lunch now before your mother also decides to marry the Tianquan, shall we?” Both women blushed simultaneously, making Ningguang grin, delighting in the glare Keqing soon sent her way when she realized what just happened.
Over lunch, Keqing’s parents ask them a lot of questions and Ningguang surprises them, including Keqing, with her knowledge on all things Yunlai, both as a clan of swordsmen and in whatever businesses they have dipped their hands on in the entire history of Liyue.
As expected of the Tianquan , Keqing mouths out quietly.
“She seems to be too perfect for you, Keqing, how did you manage to end up with the most perfect woman in Teyvat?”
“Mother!?”
“Are you sure you want to marry this girl? We can just adopt you into our family, if you want.”
“Father, not you, too!? Whose parents’ are you?” Keqing grunts, crossing her arms and pouting, with Ningguang at her side patting her head to calm her down.
“Thank you for the offer but, right now, being with your daughter is something I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world,” Ningguang replies, carefully, sounding confident and sincere in her words.
Keqing’s parents coo at her in return and when she turns her head to the side to throw a smirk at Keqing on how well she’s doing, she sees her staring at her as if she’s seeing her for the first time. Or, at least, that’s how she feels it’s like. Keqing then simply grabs ahold of one of her hands and kisses it, before letting it go, leaving her stunned.
After the meal, Keqing’s mother takes her aside while Keqing and her father cleans everything up.
“We’ve used this comb for generations. My grandmother, my mother, and I—we all used it on our wedding day. And now, my wish is for you and Keqing to use it on yours.” Keqing’s mother opens the box she has been keeping near, holding it to reveal a beautifully crafted comb—magnificent despite its age. “I’m entrusting it to you because you definitely seem more like the traditional bride type compared to my daughter, no offense to either of you,” she continues, quickly, “If we were to leave it up to her, she’d schedule your wedding during your lunch break! And she’d wear her work clothes during the ceremony so she could go back to her office after.”
Ningguang chuckles at this, agreeing, “She won’t admit it but, even though she says shopping is her favorite hobby, the only thing she actually buys is Rex Lapis memorabilia. I get jealous at times, to be honest.”
Keqing’s mother gives her a knowing look, making her blush, realizing she admitted something so personal to her. She offers her the comb and Ningguang can’t do anything but accept. After, she excuses herself from Ningguang, telling her she doesn’t trust her husband and daughter in the kitchen.
Ningguang just stands there, gawking at the box in her hands. She takes a deep breath and heads out the door for some fresh air.
Everything felt so real that it became too overwhelming, her heart is having trouble separating their act from the truth. At the end of the day, their relationship is fake and after Keqing manages to convince her clan that she is leader material, they’re going back to how it was before. Their Before wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t… This.
“Ningguang?”
Keqing brought a blanket with her—because, of course, she did—placing it around Ningguang’s shoulders. Ningguang, for her part, gives the comb to Keqing, closing her hands around its box.
Keqing’s confused look endears her even more—it’s suffocating.
“I can’t do this anymore.” Ningguang says softly, turning around and making a move to walk out of the compound, right back to where a carriage is waiting for her. Keqing grabs her by the wrist, not too rough for it to hurt her, but enough to stop her in her tracks.
“What are you talking about? Are you okay? Was it my mom’s grilled fish? I told her you wanted it to be cooked in this particular way but she still went and did her own recipe. I’m sorry, I’ll cook you a better meal when we get home later.”
Ningguang wants to cry. In fact, she feels tears already starting to form in her eyes. With the way Keqing has always been so effortlessly considerate of her; the way she does it not because she’s this rich, all-knowing and all-powerful woman in Liyue, but simply because she likes it in a particular way so Keqing wants to do it for her. She’s just so—
She gingerly takes Keqing’s hands off, turning around to face the woman who’s making her cry over grilled fish.
“At first I was just fine being a placeholder—when you inevitably find the actual person you’re going to marry, I was prepared to walk away,” Ningguang says, her voice breaking at certain points and Keqing swears she feels her heart cracking with each irregular lilt. “But now?”—she has one arm around her belly, a defensive stance, one that Keqing has never seen Ningguang use with her—“It’s too much. I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, slowly backing off, before turning her back on Keqing completely.
As she’s walking away, she calls out in a steady voice—Keqing hearing her loud and clear despite the distance. “Congratulations on deceiving your family, by the way. You can tell them the fish upset my stomach and had to leave early. Let’s reconvene when it’s time to face your clan elders.”
Keqing lets her go, sighing, the comb still in her hands. Not even a few moments later, she hears her parents moving towards her. Before they can utter anything, she asks them, “How much of that did you hear?”
“Right where you blamed your mother’s cooking for your mistakes.” She shrugs, barely catching the mixed look of amusement and disappointment from her father. “Come inside, you have some explaining to do.”
She recounts the agreement she made with Ningguang, down to the set of rules they put together. She also recounts some of their dates, giving extra details her parents didn’t even ask about. It’s the first time she sees her father roll his eyes.
“Your relationship may be fake, but we do believe what your mother and I saw isn’t.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I kind of… forgot.” Keqing confesses, embarrassed. “That our engagement was simply because of a prior agreement, I mean.”
“My daughter, you may have one of the brightest minds in Teyvat, but you’re still the biggest idiot on things that actually matter.” Keqing gasps at the fact her father just called her an idiot.
“Now, now. Don’t be too harsh on her.” Her mother gently pats Keqing on the back, consoling her and her life choices. “What your father is trying to say is that Ms. Ningguang is so in love with you—that girl would clearly do anything for you, including lie to an entire nation. You’re the biggest idiot for not realizing it.”
“Mother, that’s not any better?!”
His father steps up in front of her, putting both of his hands on her shoulders—their weight a comfort, even if just a little.
“As the Yuheng, you’ve always been someone who walks on the front line of the epoch and someone who forges a new path with her own hands.”—and he squeezes, his grip even firmer—”As our daughter, you’ve brought nothing but pride and joy into our lives. You don’t have to follow our traditions, Keqing. You’re capable of starting your own.”
“What about the Council of Elders? Don’t they want me to marry some man so I can produce an heir right away? Grandfather—”
“They’re just a bunch of old people who have not been able to keep up with the changing wind.” It’s the second time Keqing sees him roll his eyes and on the same day at that. “I like to think that a lot of Liyue’s clans have ceased to exist simply because they had elders holding on to seats of power far longer than they should have instead of letting the new generation lead.” He lets her go, but not before straightening up her back and messing her hair. Keqing huffs, stopping the urge to use her mother’s ceremonial comb to fix her twintail. She settles on using her hands. “And your grandfather has always believed in you even before any of us did. He will always be proud of you, no matter what happens next."
“I’m Clan Head anyway,” he goes on to say, puffing up his chest, obviously proud of himself, “I have long decided that my daughter will inherit the title the moment I was sure that she’ll be able to carve a new path for the clan.“
“What your father is trying to say is,”—her mother puts an arm around her father as she gives her an encouraging look—“Go to her. We’ll handle the clan—until you’re ready.”
xx.
“Excuse me, do you sell the moon here?”
Bu’yun looks at her a little weirdly, probably wondering why she’s still even using the code Ningguang once gave her, especially when she’s been in and out of the Jade Chamber the past few months without needing to use it. (She’s not going to tell him that she only used it in case Ningguang has already revoked her freedom to visit at any time for some reason.)
Or maybe he’s wondering why she’s here so late in the hour and why Ningguang had ascended on her own earlier, when usually they’d always go up together after a long day’s work.
Either way, aside from a mean side-eye, he lets her ascend without any questions—it seems that Ningguang has trained her staff extremely well in terms of self-control.
Keqing sees Ningguang standing near the edge of her beloved floating home, looking down on the nation they have served for so long. Her silhouette is otherworldly in her eyes, she almost doesn’t want to disturb the scenery to keep its serenity longer. Almost.
She’s on a mission and if she doesn’t do it now, she may never get another chance.
The first thing Keqing notices as she’s nearing Ningguang is that she is smoking again—something Keqing hasn’t seen her do in months, she realizes belatedly.
She knows Ningguang had noticed her immediately, with the way the woman’s hand twitched slightly on the pipe she’s holding, but she doesn’t turn to acknowledge her and, instead, continues to stare out into the open nightscape.
When Keqing finally stands beside her, Ningguang is the first one to speak.
“I apologize for leaving early and probably ruining the ending you planned for the night. I hope your parents weren’t far too put off by it.” She’s twiddling with her pipe, twirling it around skillfully. “Or maybe if they take all the nice things they said about me back and actually disapprove of me, maybe it’ll be easier for our breakup in the long run.”
The word breakup stings the moment Keqing hears it. She steels herself, taking deep breaths. If Ningguang noticed, she didn’t show it.
“I told my parents the truth.”
Ningguang responds with a silent oh , opening and closing her mouth, as if she doesn’t know how else to react. She is still refusing to look at Keqing, keeping herself preoccupied with her pipe. “I hope it doesn’t ruin your chance. You’re a remarkably outstanding clan member and I’d hate to be the reason you lost your seat.”
“No, it’s my fault in the first place—for getting you involved in my mess and for trying to deceive them when I could have just been honest from the start,” Keqing explains, sighing, her gaze falling to the lights flickering at the port, before returning to Ningguang. “They called me an idiot. More than once.”
In the months they were together, most of it was spent in silence. Whereas it used to be comfortable—her reprieve after a hard day’s work—now, it’s the first time it’s felt so stifling to Keqing. Ningguang still hasn’t looked at her.
“So I’m assuming that’s it, then? This is the end of our… agreement.” Ningguang takes a slow drag from her pipe, releasing the smoke seconds later. Keqing is mesmerized by the sight—from Ningguang’s long, delicate fingers to her pursing lips and to her eyelashes that flutter with each exhale.
Keqing almost misses the words, too busy staring at the woman beside her. Too busy wondering how she never realized it sooner. It takes another drag before Keqing manages to catch herself, replying, “They called me an idiot, but not for the reason you’re thinking about.”
“Does it… have anything to do with our agreement?”
“Yes, in a way.” Keqing gulps, suddenly nervous. “There’s—There’s no suitor from Fontaine, is there?”
“No, there is,” Ningguang is quick to wave her off. “I could have simply handled him the way I usually do when it comes to annoying men who don’t know how to stay in their lane.”
“I don’t even want to know,” she remarks, shuddering. When Ningguang doesn’t say anything else, she takes it as her cue to continue, echoing her words from months ago, “To tell you the truth, I’m… in a predicament.” For the first time that night, Ningguang finally faces her, an eyebrow raised and curiosity piqued.
“I know you know a lot about the Yunlai Clan, but how much do you know about me?”
“A lot,” Ningguang acknowledges without thinking, before blushing and turning her face away when she realizes how it might have sounded. Keqing barely stifles a laugh and Ningguang turns back to glare at her, only to be met with the look that makes her fall even harder each time.
“As expected of the Tianquan,” she says, fondly. As expected, Keqing thinks to herself, only Ningguang can calm her nerves significantly without even trying. She feels like she can tell her anything now. So she does.
“So you know how I’m terrible at lying?”—and Ningguang nods, slowly, not knowing where she’s going with her spiel—“Then, right now, you would know if I’m being honest with my words?” Ningguang simply stares, looking like she’s bracing herself for whatever Keqing is about to say. Keqing takes a deep breath, even deeper than the last. “I think I’ve… No, I know—I now know I’ve fallen in love with my co-worker.”
Ningguang blinks and, for the second time that night, she doesn’t know how to react.
“She’s pushy, always nagging me about delegating my work. She’s also borderline devious and always has a way of getting what she wants, especially if it’s from me.”—softer, even softer—”And she’s kind, unbelievably so, and she loves Liyue just as much as I do.”
“I see.” There’s a significant pause, one that is highly charged. It feels like a lifetime for Keqing before she finally sees a small smile gracing Ningguang’s lips. Keqing feels her cracked heart coming alive at the sight, hammering loudly in her chest. “So, Little Yuheng, how do you plan on solving this dilemma of yours?”
“Get married, of course.” Keqing answers without missing a beat, shrugging, pretending like she has no other choice in the matter.
“Then let me propose a…”—a click of the tongue, pausing, because Ningguang has the flair for dramatics regardless of the situation—“permanent solution, so to speak. One that is mutually beneficial for both of our circumstances.”
“Oh?” Keqing asks, a bit cheeky this time, “What is it?”
Ningguang drops her pipe—where it lands, she’s not in the business of caring—and wraps her arms around Keqing’s waist, inclining her head at the perfect angle where their lips may touch at the slightest movement. She doesn’t move any further, though, giving Keqing all the space she needs to walk away. Keqing, of course, doesn’t and she takes that tiny step forward, interlocking her fingers around Ningguang’s neck, pulling her closer instead.
Their first kiss tastes like Ningguang’s favorite tobacco brand and although Keqing doesn’t seem to mind, she resolves to quit. Keqing deserves better than a secondhand taste of her own poison.
And—
Ningguang’s not sure who starts it, but their kiss deepens and, suddenly, there’s tongue involved. She gasps, detaching her mouth from Keqing’s when featherlight touches begin trailing down her back, ending with a heavy grip landing on her hips. Keqing takes this opportunity to start nipping at Ningguang's neck, planting a field of Jueyun Chilis on her skin. Another moan escapes her when she feels a hand slowly sliding up her thigh while another kneads her ass. It takes all of her willpower to put a hand up to Keqing’s face, stopping her from nosing her way deeper into her cleavage.
“As much as I enjoy exhibitionism like any other sane person,” Ningguang says, her voice barely above a whisper, breathing slightly heavy, “I do think we should stop now unless you want to give my staff a show. A bit avant-garde, I must say.”
“Huh? Wha—”
“Your hand is on my ass, my dear Yuheng,” Ningguang remarks, placing her other hand on top of Keqing’s, making her squeeze it which, in turn, enables Keqing to feel the soft flesh more fully in her palms. Keqing’s face flushes and she immediately lets go of the mound, forcing herself to back away lest she ends up touching her inappropriately again. Ningguang makes a show of pouting, claiming, “But that wasn’t a complaint, merely an observation.”
“I’m sorry!?”
“You’re feeling bashful now, hm?” Ningguang steps into her space again, before bringing their bodies away from the edge—a precaution, in case they lose control again. “Your tongue was literally inside my mouth and you were about to dive into my cleavage a few seconds ago.”
“Stop!?”
Ningguang lets out an adorable giggle—covering a part of her face with the back of her hand, the corner of her eyes wrinkling in mirth—because that’s what she does, Keqing realizes and it’s enough to stop her brain from functioning properly.
Why did I not realize I was in love with you sooner?
All too suddenly, the giggling stops and Ningguang’s face erupts into shades of crimson. Ah, Keqing thinks, she said it out loud. But she kind of likes the effect it had on Ningguang, so she does it again.
“I love you.” And again, she says it again. “I love you.”
“Okay, stop!” The plea is from Ningguang this time and it’s Keqing’s turn to release the laughter bubbling up her throat. Ningguang huffs, kissing her to shut her up and make her stop.
And Keqing does, smiling through the kiss. She cups Ningguang’s face, wiping a stray tear away and admiring the tinges of red still prominent on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry for being an idiot these past few months.” Keqing says, taking both of Ningguangs hands, holding them against her lips, leaving a tender kiss as an apology. “As your future wife, I promise to make it up to you.”
“Verbal agreement?” Ningguang asks in jest, tears still threatening to fall from her eyes. “Or do you wish for a written contract this time?”
“Definitely written,” Keqing replies, seriously, leading the way back inside the Jade Chamber. “I believe they call it a marriage contract.”
And Ningguang simply nods, silently hoping they can sign it at once.
(Later.
“I thought you needed an heir?”
“Do you want to get started on that right now?”
Even later.
Her secretaries would learn to get used to the sight of their Yuheng burying her head between their Tianquan’s breasts even more shamelessly the moment she’s inside the Jade Chamber—sometimes their Yuheng’s hands would start wandering across their Lady even before they could leave the room. Ningguang, of course, pays them more than enough not to comment.)