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总觉得我每个成就都像鏡中的花，水裡的月。
My every achievement feels just like flowers in the mirror; moon on the water — intangible, illusory, empty.
It almost feels like a dream.
The famous opera star, Yun Jin, performing her maiden interpretation of The Divine Damsel of Devastation, under a clear night sky on the Jade Chamber. The applause and cheers of the attendees, ranging from merchants to officials, reverberating into the hills and valleys of Liyue down below.
This is a welcome reprieve for some attending this play, like Lumine and her floating friend; like Beidou and Keqing. This is a celebration, for those who witnessed the skies above Liyue darken one more time, and heard the terrifying screeches of a serpent god once again — but survived. This is also a welcome party for one woman by the lovely name of Shenhe, to whom Ningguang owes a debt of gratitude, and can only hope that Liyue welcomes her as warmly as her trusted partners have.
And yet, try as she might, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing cannot quell the unrest in her heart tonight. She politely claps at the end of a moving performance, graciously turns down further requests to speak business on this joyous occasion, and excuses herself from the table once the festivities have gone underway.
She walks along stone paths to the back of the brand-new Jade Chamber and up the wooden bridge on the second floor. She leans against the railing and casts her gaze over the land she had sworn to protect. Soft moonlight bathes the hills and valleys of the Geo Archon’s domain, as far as she can see. To think that this land — so vast and so rich in history and beauty — is now hers to defend. It is a duty she would never have foreseen as a child picking star conches at Yaoguang Shoal, dreaming of building a palace floating high in the sky.
As long as the power of the Tianquan is vested in me…
Ningguang allows herself a snort. What she’d said to Cloud Retainer hadn’t been a complete lie, but it isn’t the full truth, either. Yes, humans are ingenuous, innovative, resilient. Of that, she is certain. But the reality is that they’d only had sufficient time to prepare because Beidou had warned her of Beisht’s coming months ago.
Three months after Osial was defeated, to be exact. The pain of losing her old friend had just begun to fade, and she was faced yet again with its conception — for the sole purpose of giving it up to quell a god again.
After she announced the Jade Chamber’s reconstruction, she’d retreated to her room to cry.
This time, against Beisht, she has been fortunate. Those she loves have survived, and they have found new friends and allies. This time, the Jade Chamber lives. But experience then begs the question: who is to say that they will be just as lucky when disaster strikes once more?
What if they no longer have the luxury of time?
Fear is not an emotion that the Tianquan feels often, but tonight, it feels like she hasn’t won this battle at all.
Beidou should be happy, but she isn’t. Not really.
Well, she is happy that Beisht has been defeated, that there’s lots of booze at this party, and that Yun Jin has the chance to christen the Jade Chamber’s ascension with a stunning performance (though she’s not one for opera). She’s relieved that this time, she was here to fight by Ningguang’s side. Watching the Tianquan unleash her power was quite a sight, even for Beidou. She’s fairly certain she’s never seen Ningguang use her Vision until this day.
She’s overjoyed that casualties were reduced to a bare minimum, that most of the Millelith and her crew sustained only minor injuries at most, thanks to Shenhe’s timely intervention. With Lumine and Shenhe, their three-phase plan had succeeded at Phase One, and they hadn’t needed to proceed with the next step.
For that, Beidou is grateful. They’d gone over the plan countless times in their preparations for Beisht, with Ningguang expressing confidence in their strategy, but Beidou has never believed that. They would have ultimately won indeed — but at what cost?
Despite the raucous laughter and festive chatter, Beidou certainly isn’t happy that a particular white-haired woman has conspicuously vanished from the crowd shortly after the play ended. Ningguang loves to be the center of attention; she thrives in parties like these. The captain has lost count of the number of times she’s playfully roped her into awkward business conversations just to see the pirate stumble over her words.
So where the hell is the Tianquan?
Beidou is fairly certain she isn’t in the restroom. No one takes a dump for half an hour. Still, as with all things concerning the delicate Lady Ningguang, she knows better than to be careless. The captain downs the rest of her beer in one gulp before quietly looking around her. She sees Paimon gorging herself on Jueyun chilli chicken — the little greedy thing — and Lumine cheerfully chatting with Shenhe and the others. To her left are two tables of merchants and other important people she doesn’t recognise, who are thankfully occupied with the Yuheng.
Good.
Swiftly, she rises from her seat under the pretense of visiting the restroom, and takes a small detour into the Jade Chamber’s gardens. Loud laughter and cackles give way to peaceful silence. As Beidou walks along the stone pavement, she marvels at the accuracy of the new chamber’s walls and stream. Ningguang recreated her home down to the smallest detail. There is not a single stone or plant that Beidou doesn’t recall seeing from the original Jade Chamber. Either the woman has an impossibly good memory, or her initial blueprints were just that detailed.
Why did she go to this length to recreate the Jade Chamber if she was going to sacrifice it again?
Beidou finds Ningguang standing on the wooden bridge, her silhouette illuminated by the soft moonlight and shrouded in the smoke she puffs out from her pipe. Pearlescent strands of white hair cascade down her back, wine-red eyes staring listlessly at the land below.
The captain’s ruby eye softens at the sight of her guiding star.
She treads lightly, carefully, slowly approaching the woman from behind. She stops by her side, silently watching as that piercing gaze moves from the land to her — and then back again. Ningguang takes a drag of her pipe. She doesn’t mind.
So Beidou softly says: “I never did get to ask my one question for winning your little competition, you know?”
The question takes Ningguang slightly off-guard. She glances at Beidou again, searching for the cheeky twinkle in her ruby eye, but she sees only care. The Tianquan allows herself a faint smile, studying the mountainous formations of Lingju Peak. “Indeed, you didn’t.”
This… this feels intimate, where the Jade Chamber doesn’t. In the time she has stood here alone, she’s found that the walls are familiar, yet new. The wind gently caressing her hair is familiar, yet a stranger. The Jade Chamber she now resides in is whole, and yet it is not.
Its soul… is it truly here — or is it still there, beneath the waves, slumbering forever?
“What’s on your mind?” Beidou asks.
“Is that your one question?”
“Yeah.”
Ningguang lets out a low chuckle. Trust the captain to use her reward on something so trivial… and yet so difficult to answer. She would have gladly told Beidou of Liyue’s future economic trends, of the policies that the Qixing will soon sign into law to maintain the country’s steady growth. But those are things that don’t matter to the law-breaking pirate next to her. She lifts her gaze from Lingju Peak, drinking in the sight of faint moonlight veiling Liyue from Bishui Plain to Lisha.
“Tell me, Beidou,” she murmurs, “What have you loved dearly — and lost?”
Beidou does not flinch as she follows her gaze. “So much. Family, friends… home.”
“You never lost the Alcor.” There is a hint of accusation in her voice despite her best efforts.
How can you possibly understand?
“You’re right. I didn’t. But I lost my childhood home.”
Ah. Yes. Ningguang remembers that story. The villagers had called her a curse, and driven her out of their land.
And as for Ningguang? After she lost her old friend… the people grew to respect her. Admire her. Look up to her. She should be grateful, yet till today she still quietly harbours a sense of regret for doing what she did. Although time has taught her to find a new dream from her grief — to leave a legacy for the generations after her — it doesn't make the price she paid sting any less.
Nor does it lessen the fear of losing all she’s striven for yet again.
Beidou is silent, simply content to stand with her in the tranquil night. Ningguang doesn't mind. There are many things she doesn't mind about Beidou. As boisterous as she is, she also knows when to keep quiet. Ningguang has always respected Beidou's ways with people. Perhaps it's this same sensitivity that lets Beidou understand her, too.
"You're missing out on good liquor in the banquet," Ningguang finally murmurs.
"I'm standing with the wealthiest woman in Teyvat. Surely you can buy me another bottle for next time?"
Ningguang huffs, exhaling hot smoke through her nose.
"So, are you going to answer my one question?" Beidou pesters.
“Mmm.” She lets out a sigh. What a stubborn captain. Yet, it’s also the one trait that Ningguang admires about her. Beidou lost an eye to defeat Haishan. A piece of her, irreversibly torn away by the power of a god. Perhaps she, too, has cursed the gods; cursed her name; cursed all that she has lost. Perhaps that is why Beidou stood by her side, feet planted on solid ground, long after Osial was defeated and Liyue Harbour was prepared.
“It doesn’t feel the same,” Ningguang finally breathes, unable to find a better phrase.
The captain simply nods knowingly. "The wind is the same. The view is the same. But the stone under your feet… just doesn't feel right, eh?"
Ningguang turns, staring at her.
"It doesn't have a soul yet, this Jade Chamber." Beidou looks out over Liyue and smiles. "Even though you’ve recreated it down to the exact same detail. You thought your old friend might come back to you if you did.”
The Tianquan looks away, fiddling with her pipe. “It’s good that it doesn’t. If I have to give it up again… it won’t hurt as much.”
The words sound hollow even to herself.
Beidou turns then, leaning on the railing and watching her with a gaze so soft she wants to melt into it and fade away. “But you didn’t have to, thanks to Shenhe and Lumine. Now it will grow. It will develop a heart, a soul, as you pour more memories into this place.”
And that is her greatest fear. “What if I lose it again, then?” She lifts her head to glare at the captain. Her voice breaks. “Another piece of me will be lost to the waves.”
How much more can I give and lose?
Beidou smiles, looking at her tenderly. “That’s what I’m here for, Ning.”
The faint moonlight wraps around them both like a veil. Ningguang used to think that only Mora was infinite in value, that her Jade Chamber was the most precious thing in the world. But when she lost it… what had been left?
Only echoes. But the echoes were written elsewhere.
They were written in the children she taught, the merchants who approached her with gratitude, in her faithful secretaries who continued their work at Yuehai Pavilion. The echoes of her life in the Jade Chamber permeated and sank into the veins of Liyue itself, from the bustling businesses of Wanmin Restaurant to the respectful bow of the once-proud Yuheng, who now acknowledges the will she represents — the adamantine will of Liyue Harbour.
And the most precious echoes are found in the woman standing by her side, in that ruby eye gazing at her with such tender fondness, in the games they continued playing long after she lost her home — almost as if she'd never lost it at all.
Her vision blurs with tears. Her home, her heart, was never with the Jade Chamber. The day she lost it, she found something else. Something beyond a mere legacy. It's something that Mora can never buy. That she might have never recognised till it was too late, if she hadn't lost all that she had loved.
"Ning?" Beidou asks, her normally-booming voice now a soft whisper. A whisper reserved only for her.
Time flies. But the mountains and seas will always remain.
And the echoes of their lives will reverberate through the generations long after their bodies have withered into dust. For now, though, as long as she draws breath — there is something more precious than even her dream of expanding the Jade Chamber.
In the privacy of this garden, Ningguang reaches out to clasp Beidou's hands. The brunette smiles, her gentle gaze filled with warmth.
"What do you need?" The words fall from Beidou's lips.
I need…
"You," Ningguang says at last, and a single tear trickles down her cheek. You are home.
Beidou lifts a thumb, catching the teardrop and brushing it away. "You already have all of me."
Muscular arms wrap around her slender form, cloaking her in warmth. Ningguang closes her eyes, letting the tears soak into Beidou's coat. The captain says nothing, silently shielding her as she weeps tears of relief, that they had defeated Beisht, that she hadn’t lost anything more, that Liyue was safe, that—
That her home is here, with her, once again.
When her eyes finally dry, Ningguang pulls back, staring at her reflection in the water. "Feeling better?" Beidou asks gently.
She nods. "Thank you, Beidou."
Beidou tenderly adjusts the pin in her hair. "Well, I'd like to take you to bed now, my heart, but you've got a banquet to get back to. You’ve been gone so long they’re probably about to riot."
She laughs, dabbing at her eyes to remove as much of the puffiness as she can. "That I do."
"But I'll see you later?"
Ningguang looks up, her lips curving into a familiar self-assured smile. "I'll be waiting."
我终于明白了：我是月亮，你是阳光。
当我们见面时，性命又有形。
I finally understand: I am the moonlight; you are the sunlight.
Whenever we meet — life takes shape again.
—FIN.