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Summary
Childe has never been overly fond of pretty things.
They just weren’t made for someone like her. Pretty people weren’t either; all jewellery and finely pressed suits and perfect makeup told her was that the person had far too much peace of mind, something that, as a weapon, she could not afford.
But right there at a market stall under the unbearable hot sun of Liyue, staring at a woman frowning at her purse, she realises that maybe she just hadn’t found the right kind of pretty until now.
