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你是否在寻找一种海阔天空的爱?
Are you seeking a love as wide as the boundless ocean; as open as the vast sky?
“You are aware that the Sakoku Decree is in effect, yes?” The Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing lounges on her stone chair, inhaling a deep breath of tobacco. Smoke wafts from her gold pipe, lazily coiling around her. Locks of silky white hair fall over her arms, her fur collar hiding the soft line of her jaw. Her elegant creamy legs are neatly crossed, one over the other, and she raises a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow at the brunette seated across her.
The disgruntled Captain of the Crux Fleet folds her muscular arms. Unlike Ningguang, her long brown hair is ruffled by the sea wind, and she is eyeing the Tianquan’s pipe with disdain. Beidou is already an imposing figure, what with her well-toned physique and broad shoulders, but the fur-lined red shawl draped around her shoulders only serves to further accentuate her striking appearance. “Uh huh.”
The two most influential women in Liyue Harbour are in Ningguang’s study-turned-office behind Yuehai Pavilion. A long time ago, Ningguang lived in this small mansion before the Jade Chamber was completed.
Now — two months after sacrificing her old friend to defeat Osial — she returns to this old abode of hers, feet firmly planted on the ground.
The office is nowhere near as opulent as what she’d had in the Jade Chamber, though Ningguang tries not to dwell on it too much. A few furnishings remain the same: calligraphy scrolls; a makeshift wooden board of intelligence; piles of books; and a weathered porcelain vase on a shelf, with Beidou’s ugly scrawl across its base.
The Tianquan twirls her pipe, not yet done with Beidou. “And that there is a storm of the Raiden Shogun’s will currently protecting the islands?”
“Yeah.”
“Might I remind you the Alcor barely survived the last time you encountered this storm?”
“Hey!” Beidou waves her arms around indignantly. “I’m familiar with its patterns now. It won’t happen again.”
Ningguang lets out a low chuckle. Captain Beidou is as stubborn as she is, albeit in very different ways compared to herself. Over the years, their near-daily squabbles have lessened in frequency as they came to respect each other’s views. Eventually, they’d agreed to disagree — and even signed a contract over it.
After the events of Osial, Beidou had been softer, gentler, more patient with her. She had spent more time in Liyue Harbour, making frequent stopovers and boisterously interrupting whatever perfectly-planned schedule Ningguang had in mind for the day. And although she was — still is — grieving the loss of her old friend, Beidou made the ache in her heart bearable.
This is something Ningguang treasures dearly; an unexpected reward for what she had given up. Their time together is a welcome reprieve from the pressure that has fallen on the Qixing after Morax’s departure, where for just a few moments, the weight of managing a country’s laws, unguided, can be lighter for a while. Despite their differences, Beidou remains now a trusted confidant of hers.
So why, then, had Beidou not told her the Crux Fleet was leaving for Inazuma in two days?
“Alright.” Ningguang sighs out a puff of smoke. It’ll be another sleepless night now, with Liyue’s strongest armed fleet leaving for an extended period of time. What else had Little Long said, besides the Alcor’s preparations for Inazuma?
Ah, yes. “My little birds also tell me you smuggled a new crew member into Liyue.”
“Kazuha? Ah, yeah.” Beidou scratches her head awkwardly. “I was, uh, going to file his arrival with the Ministry of Civil Affairs, really…”
Ningguang raises an eyebrow, nudging the immigration form on the table over to her. The captain scowls, snatches a pen, and starts scribbling.
Satisfied, she waits until Beidou finishes the application, before taking it with her clawed fingers and checking it thoroughly. Kaedehara Kazuha. Isn’t he from a renowned clan in that nation? Ningguang isn’t sure. The country’s closed borders have slowed her intelligence there to a trickle, not that it matters too much. Of all the nations, Inazuma holds the least trade value to Liyue now; its closure had drastically affected silk exports here for a time, at least until the akademiya in Sumeru City discovered the wonders of silk clothing. For the sake of diplomacy, however, Ningguang remains staunch in her opinion that it’s best not to step on any Archon’s toes, let alone the Raiden Shogun’s.
“Seriously, though,” Beidou is saying. “That boy won’t hurt a fly. He opens his mouth and nothing but poetry comes out.”
“That’s not why I had you do this. It’s simply protocol.” Ningguang taps out the remnant tobacco in her pipe, refilling it from a container on her desk. “If he truly was a danger, he wouldn’t be with you now, I assure you.”
Her ruby eye narrows. “Is that a threat, Ning?”
“It’s a fact.” She lights the herbs, taking in a scalding breath of tobacco. “My duty is to protect Liyue.”
The captain’s arms are folded once again, a slight scowl on her lips.
Ningguang masks her sigh with another drag of her pipe. Her thoughts are spinning. A part of her wants to straight up ask why Beidou didn’t tell her about this trip; to admit that she doesn't want Beidou to leave now when the Qixing will have a trying week with the upcoming trade renewals to be signed with their neighbours.
But here they are, speaking of business, and Beidou is watching her suspiciously like how the heads and merchants do.
She has no choice but to push forward. “What has he told you about Watatsumi Island?”
“You’re interested in the rebellion?” Beidou sounds incredulous.
“I’m interested in information, Captain,” Ningguang replies placidly.
“Right.” The brunette shrugs. “Well, uh… when Kazuha was there, the rebellion managed to secure some ground on Nazuchi beach, I heard.”
Ningguang sighs. She can hear the lie in Beidou’s voice. To make things worse, the captain can barely look her in the eye now. The Tianquan carefully sets down her pipe, staring at the brunette she's come to know so well. “And what are you not telling me, Beidou?”
“Seriously… nothing gets past you, does it?”
The Tianquan merely raises an eyebrow again.
“Ugh, fine…” Beidou shakes her head. “Well, Sangonomiya's head priestess wishes to meet with me, to discuss the employment of the Crux Fleet for their next battle.”
There it is. The elephant in the room. While the Crux Fleet is ultimately an independent guard-for-hire, Ningguang isn’t sure whether the Shogunate is aware of this distinction. The last thing she needs is for Inazuma to mistake their participation as a declaration of war from Liyue.
At the same time, the stalemate between the two sides has been going on for months, as far as she is aware. It is within the Qixing’s best interests to end the Vision Hunt Decree, for a chance to trade. Ultimately, the Crux Fleet’s meeting with the rebellion may yet prove useful.
The fact that Beidou didn’t just trust her with this information, though, leaves a sour taste in her mouth.
“Do you think they can afford you?” Ningguang probes.
“Probably not.” Beidou shrugs. “But, I mean… I can make some concessions, if it's for a good cause. There are other ways of repayment, as you probably know. Besides, if we end this stalemate… isn’t it good for Liyue, too?”
It is. Ningguang won’t deny that. But why, of all people, does it have to be you?
“Your actions as a whole are still ‘more or less’ approved by the Qixing,” the Tianquan sighs. “Take Hui Lin with you, at least.”
“Hui Lin? That merchant down by the docks? Whatever for?”
“She has covert ties to us. It’s her job to ensure some deals will not be linked back to the Qixing.” Ningguang would rather stop Beidou, but the captain has a steely glint in that ruby eye. She knows that look. Beidou won’t back down even if the Tianquan grounded the entire fleet.
“Protecting your ass, eh?” Beidou scowls.
“What do you want me to do? Stop you from departing for Inazuma?” The Tianquan grips the edge of the desk in frustration. “You did not consult me on this, Beidou.” The accusatory words slip out before she can control herself. “It is my duty to ensure you don’t bring war upon our country by ‘doing the right thing’, as you insist.”
On top of everything else that we are already dealing with domestically. Tears threaten to prick her eyes at the thought. There is so much going on behind the scenes, that no one but the Qixing know. All of them are at breaking point. And now Beidou is adding on to this mountain of troubles that Morax has left them. At this rate, they’ll be drowning in domestic and international issues piling higher than Qingyun Peak.
None of this escapes her tightly-pressed lips.
Beidou is hurt. Ningguang knows this from the way her ruby eye narrows, the way her muscles flex as she tenses. “Is that what you think this is?” the captain asks, her voice uncharacteristically quiet and low. “An act of self-righteousness on my part?”
There is a dull throb spreading all over her head, starting from her temples. “All I’m saying is: you should have spoken to me about this earlier,” Ningguang finally says, closing her eyes briefly.
“You want me to report my fleet’s actions to you? I’m not your subordinate.” Beidou’s voice rises in fury. Her loud voice sends another stab of agony through Ningguang’s pounding head. “What are you really trying to say, Ning?”
Enough. She can’t deal with this now.
“We’re done here,” Ningguang snaps, rising to her feet. “I’ve said my piece, Captain. Take it as you will. Now leave.”
Beidou physically recoils, the shock and hurt apparent in her wide ruby eye. A pang of guilt stabs the Tianquan in the heart when she sees it. A part of Ningguang wants to apologise, but nothing comes out even though her lips part. Instead, she silently watches the captain get to her feet and walk away.
It might be the last time she will ever see her again.
Why do you have to be so reckless, Beidou?
Collapsing on her chair, Ningguang holds her aching head and sighs.
Beidou leans on the railing of the Alcor’s deck, casting her gaze out across the vast, endless ocean. It’s been about two days since the Crux Fleet left Liyue Harbour for Inazuma, and they are now surrounded by nothing but beautiful water. Usually, the Jade Chamber would be visible from this distance, even when the harbour is not.
But now that guiding star isn’t there anymore.
Inhaling the salty tang of the fresh ocean, feeling the sea breeze caress her cheeks, watching schools of fish swim alongside the Alcor — these sights and smells alone would normally lift Beidou’s spirits, however down she might feel when leaving her home. This time it does nothing to ease the tightness of her chest, the ache of her heart. She wishes she could remove the affected piece of her and leave it on her desk until she’s done with this job.
Ningguang… hadn’t been herself. Now that rage is no longer clouding her vision, Beidou can see that. After the woman lost the Jade Chamber, she’d become a hollow shell of her former person, disappearing from public view. It was Beidou who managed to reach her, by breaking into her mansion one night, and there she’d glimpsed only a human being, not the powerful Tianquan that many made her out to be.
She’s always been human. But she is almost trying to be a god at this point, especially now when Morax has departed. It frustrates Beidou so, so much — that despite all the time they’ve spent together, Ningguang still won’t be fully honest with her.
The guessing game she plays with the Tianquan is both exhilarating and frustrating: it’s rewarding when she nails it on the head, but impossibly vexing when she can’t. Beidou had always intended to tell her of this trip, but somehow couldn’t find the right moment. In these few weeks, every time Beidou visited, Ningguang always seemed to be either tied up in administrative tedium or was far too stressed to listen.
So she’d waited, and waited, and… before the captain knew it, the Crux Clash had begun. Then — word of course reached the Tianquan that the Crux Fleet was leaving for Inazuma.
And here they are. At times like these, Beidou just wishes Ningguang would say what’s on her mind. She can’t help her if she won’t admit what’s wrong.
Why can’t you just tell me what you want, Ning?
“You seem rather troubled.”
Beidou turns to see Kazuha emerging from below deck. He lifts his head to the sky and she follows his gaze. Huh. She’s been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the gray clouds gathering overhead. “A storm’s coming,” she mutters.
“No doubt reflecting the one in your heart, Beidou.” The white-haired boy approaches, leaning on the railings of the deck next to her.
The captain looks at him, slightly surprised. “Well.” She barks out a laugh. “You’ve always been sharp like that, kid. How’s Lumine and Paimon?”
“They’re below deck, having a meal. They’re taking to the sea pretty well.” Kazuha smiles. “As expected of seasoned adventurers.”
“Good.” Ningguang would probably be seasick right about now, she muses. Her heart aches again.
“Is this about the Tianquan?”
Beidou has half the urge to smack Kazuha for being too sharp. “Look, kid… it’s… it’s just a problem between us. That’s all. We’ll fix it when I’m back.”
“Yet it eats away at you.” The samurai pauses, distracted by a school of colourful fish swimming alongside the Alcor. Then he turns to her and smiles. “Try me. Perhaps I can help with matters of the heart.”
“I don’t think you’ve loved anything other than your sword and family,” Beidou blurts out incredulously.
The boy laughs. “You can add the sea to that, now. But perhaps just having a listening ear will help. I promise not to spread any rumours.”
She barks out a laugh, looking up at the sky again. It is rapidly darkening. The waves lapping against the Alcor’s hull are picking up in ferocity ever so slightly. Despite the alarming changes in their view, it’s nothing to worry about — Beidou knows from the lack of lightning and thunder that this will not be a difficult one to weather. “Better you than the others, I suppose,” she admits. “The gossip they’ll spread when I’m back home…”
Kazuha chuckles. “Indeed. You and the Tianquan are often at odds.”
“We are, but…” Never like this. Beidou has always been able to draw the truth out from Ningguang with lots of patience and care, and she in turn has never shut her down using her authority as the Tianquan before. “She… I think she’s worried.” About me. “About this trip. But she just won’t say it.” Beidou snorts, shaking her head. “Is it that hard to be honest with me? She’d rather kick me out than talk about her feelings.”
The first droplets of rain start to pelt the deck. The sea swells. Neither samurai nor captain move from the deck. “Lady Ningguang does not have that luxury, I would think,” Kazuha says softly.
Beidou raises an eyebrow. “A luxury?” Last she heard, Ningguang could probably buy all of Teyvat and still have enough to live lavishly.
Kazuha’s red eyes have a strangely faraway gaze in them. “I will not claim to understand her, Beidou, but I can… empathise. Back when the Kaedehara name meant something, I had to watch my every action, my every word. I didn’t know who I could trust. Anything I did or said could be used against my clan, my family. It was… a pressure that I loathed.” He shakes his head sadly. “I can only imagine that trust is very difficult to give when you are someone of Lady Ningguang’s stature.”
“You’re saying she doesn’t trust me? That’s why she kicked me out?”
“On the contrary. Perhaps you are one of the very few she can trust.”
Beidou is silent, turning his words over and over in her mind, even as the rain starts to soak them both to the bone.
Kazuha closes his eyes, lifting his head to let the rain kiss his face. “Isn’t it beautiful, Beidou? How the sea reflects the sky?” He smiles. “As the sky weeps, the waves swell in sorrow, for sea and sky are one,” he murmurs.
Two halves of a whole.
“Huh.” Beidou returns her gaze to the waves, now angrily lashing against the Alcor’s hull. As if on cue, the rain grows heavier, relentlessly pelting them both, hiding the tear that escapes her ruby eye.
If she is the sea, then Ningguang is her sky.
She could never leave her alone.
It isn’t long before the rain grows heavier and the waves rougher. The two quickly duck below deck to dry off, but Beidou feels a thought firmly settle in her heart. When they return to Liyue, before everything else — she will clear things up with her precious star.
The throbbing in her temples is back again.
Ningguang sighs, reaching for the flask of mint sweet flower tea on her table. She pours herself yet another cup, taking slow, methodical sips to ease the tension in her head.
The headaches come and go, but have become more frequent in recent times, especially in the evenings, like now. In the past few days, she’s taken to asking Baishi to prepare one pot every morning.
Each and every one of the Qixing has been under immense pressure since Morax’s “passing” two months ago. The passage of time has only given them more trouble, ironically. Everyone is walking on eggshells.
Keqing had nearly broken down in Ningguang’s office the other day when she grilled the Yuheng about a flawed policy proposal. The normally mild-mannered Ganyu had raised her voice at the Kaiyang over a trivial matter just a day ago. Uncle Tian was so stressed he hadn’t gone fishing for an entire month. Even his daughter expressed concern for her father.
It is a phase, Ningguang tells herself (and them), a phase that they need to weather through as they pick up every single piece that Morax has left behind in his departure. That ultimately, as they understand and learn the intricacies of truly governing Liyue, their lives will get easier.
Now Ningguang herself isn’t so sure about that.
Her gaze drifts away from the book of laws to a neatly rolled up scroll, tied with a red string. In that scroll is the completed blueprint of a new Jade Chamber, together with the materials she’d need to begin its reconstruction. All she needs is to tip the scales and set it in motion.
But she can’t do it alone.
Ningguang curses her newfound weakness in the silence of her office. When her old friend was there, she reveled in her solitary status, saw all who sought her presence as mere pawns to be moved on the chessboard.
After she lost her best friend, she was no longer protected by its beautiful walls and sturdy bridges.
Letters of admiration and gratitude started pouring in, touching her heart in ways she hadn’t expected. And a certain woman who rarely showed up in Liyue Harbour began swinging by more and more often, until Ningguang could barely go a week without hoping to hear her booming voice again.
Archons, she actually misses Beidou.
After her outburst, the Crux Fleet had left the next day — a full day earlier than planned. Ningguang had woken up wanting to make amends, but the Alcor had already left.
It devastated her more than she dared to admit.
The Tianquan sighs, suddenly realising she’s been rubbing her temples so hard with her nail guards that it’s drawn blood. She hastily removes the nails, dabbing at the circular scrapes on her head.
The constant pitter-patter of rain falling on the windowsill only makes her headache worse. Ningguang lets out an audible groan. On hindsight, she has no idea why she couldn’t just… be honest.
She knows the Captain would go to Inazuma regardless of her concerns. It’s simply what duty demands of her. And Ningguang would never stop her. She just wishes they could have had a little more time. That Beidou could have told her earlier, given her more time to think it through, to fit it neatly into the nation's plans.
With everything else on her plate, that knowledge — coming in so late, from her network rather than from its source — had simply been the last straw.
Hot tears prick her eyes, partly from pain and partly from frustration. There’s no one else to turn to and no refuge to hide in. The tea is not helping her pounding head and the weight of a country feels far too heavy now. Ningguang lowers her head onto her arms and lets out a stifled sob.
The time to act is now.
As the Crux Fleet nears Yashiori Island, Captain Beidou sees the Shogunate on one side, led by their fearsome general Kujou Sara, and the resistance on the other, standing tall behind General Gorou. Rain lashes the sails of the Alcor as Sea Drake spins the wheel, deftly navigating the massive ship closer.
“To arms!” Beidou yells, drawing her claymore, and the gangplanks fall. She leaps onto wet sand as the resistance charges at the Shogunate, swiftly joining the battle. Her Vision glows and flashes as she calls forth the strength of Electro, the form of a dragon surging up and charging through the enemy ranks, clearing a way for the resistance to push forward.
A block, a step back, a swing; Electro shield, deflect, step back, swing; Beidou’s movements are well-practiced and fluid in the chaotic battlefield. Her mind is wholly focused on her goal: to help the resistance win this surprise battle. With Kujou Sara suddenly at the frontlines, Beidou is sure that the Crux Fleet’s arrival can help to turn the tide.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spots flashes of anemo from Kazuha, who is holding his own perfectly well against a group of Shogunate samurai. To her left, Juza stands side by side with Watatsumi shoulders, leading Furong and the others into the fray. From the fleet now docked at the island, supportive cannon fire rains onto the Shogunate’s forces, scattering them into small, disorganised groups.
If the Raiden Shogun herself doesn’t join the fight, they may yet stand a chance.
It’s then that Beidou sees it: a blink of Electro, flying from Sara’s bow towards Kazuha’s head. The boy is too engrossed in his battle with two samurai to notice the death blow now hurtling towards him at high speed.
Without thinking, the Captain leaps forward, slicing through the two samurai and shoving Kazuha out of the way.
The arrow pierces into her sword arm with an Electro explosion. Beidou grunts, stabbing her claymore into the sand for support. Burning pain rips through her entire arm. She grits her teeth at the unpleasant yet familiar burn.
“Beidou!” Kazuha yells. She looks up to see Sara taking aim at her. It’s too late to stand; too late to move. The sky weeps. Her mind goes blank.
Ningguang—
The general suddenly stops, lowering her bow. Beidou looks down to see bubbles slowly rising from the water. “What the hell?” she mutters. These bubbles suddenly move, sticking to her injured arm like glue.
Bewildered, Beidou spins, wildly flailing her arm to try and shake them off, but they just won’t let go. She looks around, only to see bubbles doing the same to resistance soldiers and her crewmates. It’s odd, but the bubbles feel very comfortable. They seem to be numbing the pain.
Before the Captain can fully process what is happening, there’s a splash of water. Some distance ahead of them, a beautiful pink-haired girl steps down from the bubbles.
Sangonomiya Kokomi is quite unlike any leader Beidou has ever known, but for her to come to the aid of the resistance at this crucial point speaks well of her.
Beidou is too far from the scene to tell what words are exchanged between Sara and Kokomi, but eventually the Shogunate retreats. The Captain gets to her feet, flexing her fingers.
The bubbles have numbed the pain, but the worried expression on Kazuha’s face tells her she still has an arrow currently stuck in her shoulder. Taking that out is going to suck.
“You need to get that treated, Captain,” Kokomi’s soft voice rings out to her left. Beidou turns to see the priestess approaching her. “Thank you for your help. Without your support and the Traveler’s, I don’t think we’d have negotiated this truce.”
“Well, I just hope you can afford the mercs you’ve had me gather,” Beidou grunts, sheathing her claymore. “Thanks for the help. These… uh, bubbles… they’re really useful.”
Kokomi smiles. “They should stop it from hurting a while longer. Best make use of this time to get the arrow out.”
While the priestess leaves to discuss next steps with Gorou, Beidou hobbles her way back to Fort Fujitou. Kazuha catches up with her halfway, grabbing her uninjured arm. “Beidou, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She waves her uninjured arm. “Just an arrow in the shoulder, nothing new.”
“I’m sorry,” the boy murmurs, “I should have paid more attention on the battlefield. If you—”
“Hey, kid.” Beidou looks him in the eye, grasping his shoulder. “Word of advice: never go into the ‘ifs’. They’ll kill you.”
She doesn’t say that she’s gone through a million ‘ifs’ on their journey to Inazuma, all concerning a certain white-haired woman whom she sorely misses right about now. A part of her is glad that Ningguang isn’t here. If she’d seen that moment… Beidou shudders as she limps into the infirmary, body aching all over, and slumps on a chair while Kazuha gets a doctor.
Ningguang would be furious at Sara. And frustrated at Beidou’s ‘recklessness’. And her wine-red eyes would do that thing where they somehow still burn with cold fury but soften when she looks at her.
Beidou hates it when those piercing eyes fill with something almost akin to regret.
Minor wounds, major wounds — to the captain, what’s important is that she survives to drink another day, but Ningguang doesn’t think that way. Beidou gives the approaching doctor a nod, turning to let him snap the arrow and extract it from her shoulder. As Kokomi promised, the bubbles coating the wound do help to numb the pain significantly, and all that escapes Beidou’s tightly-pressed lips is a hiss when the shaft is deftly pulled out.
Her wound dressed, a warm blanket on her shoulders and a hot cup of herbal tea in hand, Beidou relaxes on the chair, watching other soldiers and mercenaries get treated.
Beidou tries to hide her injuries, as much as she can, when she returns to Liyue. The Tianquan doesn’t comment on them often, but she hates it when those elegant fingers tighten ever so slightly on her pipe, when a barely perceptible flash of anger crosses that haughty expression of hers.
Ningguang cares, and she knows better than to say it to her face. Instead, she’s just a little gentler, a little kinder, a little more considerate.
That’s what she has always loved about her guiding star. Ningguang never pities, never hates, never goads. She pushes her buttons all the time, but just enough that Beidou stops to think, to step back, to see.
Just as Beidou can read her like she reads the sea, its every wave and rising, ebbing tide a story of what happens deep beneath; Ningguang knows her like she knows the sky — the early morning mist that wraps around the Jade Chamber, the rolling fog of incoming rain, the warm hues of red and purple as the sun hides beneath the horizon, seeking rest in the cool dark night.
My light. She shouldn’t have fled from her like mist scattering in the sun.
Beidou lets out a long, tired sigh. For now, she will rest. And then she’ll go for a walk around Watatsumi Island. She’s heard there are some lovely pearls to be found here; one or two exceptional ones might make for an apologetic gift.
I’ll make things up to you, my star.
The left side of her head is pounding.
Ningguang closes her eyes, taking a deep drag of tobacco from her pipe and expelling the smoke with a deep sigh. Across from her, the Yaoguang and Kaiyang are on their feet, locked in heated debate over a proposed Millelith conscription policy.
To her right, the tense purple-haired Yuheng sports eyebags darker than coal; to her left, the other Qixing members stare impassively, tired gazes resting on their own documents. Their poor General Secretary sits at the far end of the long table, her purple-pink eyes filled with worry.
“We barely survived an attack from a god,” the Kaiyang, a young, fiery man that reminds Ningguang of a brasher Xingqiu, protests. “Now that we have no Archon… we are defenseless, both from sea and from land. Defense plans will take time to draw. We should make it mandatory to conscript all young men in Liyue for the Millelith, so that we have a proper army to fall back on if something happens.”
“What will that say about Liyue’s stance?” the Yaoguang demands. She is much older and wiser than the Kaiyang, providing him with a more holistic view, but the young man isn’t having it. “We are heavily reliant on diplomatic trade. Building an army will worry our neighbours.”
Ningguang tunes them out, fingers deftly flipping through Liyue’s book of laws to the defense and military section. It’s true that Liyue has never had mandatory conscription for all men nor a set budget for defensive technology, simply because they had always been protected by one of the most powerful and oldest Archons in Teyvat.
The Kaiyang’s proposal is logical, from his perspective. But the Yaoguang speaks sense, too.
She unconsciously lifts a hand to hold the left side of her face, which is throbbing so hard she’s almost seeing stars. The loud exchange between the two officials isn’t helping at all. Before anyone can realise what she’s done, the Tianquan quickly lowers her hand, pressing her lips tightly together in frustration.
“You’re not the one who decides the laws!” the Yaoguang finally exclaims. “This is a matter for the Tianquan.”
Seven pairs of eyes land on Ningguang. Usually, she doesn’t mind the attention. Now, however, it feels like their piercing stares are sending sharp jabs of pain into her head. She leans back in her chair, folding her arms. “You have both made your points,” she says placidly. “I will take them all into consideration.”
“But what do you think about it, Tianquan?” the Kaiyang asks.
Ningguang shoots him a death stare. “This meeting is not for us to take sides. It is for each member of the Qixing to propose their policies.” She twirls her pipe viciously as he shrinks back against his chair. “I will make amendments to the law once I have heard from each and every member here. Now, let us move on. I have a lunch appointment I’d prefer not to miss.”
By the time the Qixing goes into their fourth argument of the day, Ningguang calls for a timeout and rises to her feet. “We will make no headway like this with the multitude of issues we face,” she berates each and every single member, wine-red eyes cold and furious.
The six other officials look everywhere but at her.
“Think not for yourself, but for the people, and for the generations that will come long after your bones rot into dust. Then, resume your duties. Refine your policies. We will reconvene later in the week.”
And with a flick of her pipe, the Qixing is dismissed.
Keqing gathers her documents hastily, flashing Ningguang a grateful smile as she hurries back to work. Uncle Tian pauses to give Ningguang an understanding look, which she graciously returns.
The rest of the Qixing filter out one by one until only the Tianquan and Ganyu are left. Biting back a sigh, Ningguang takes the book of laws in her hands, nodding at the half-adepti as she passes.
A hand grabs her arm.
The Tianquan turns, cocking her head quizzically at Ganyu.
“L–Lady Ningguang…” The General Secretary looks down, her pink eyes filling with tears. “I know it’s a difficult time for all of you. B–but… I’ve served many generations of Qixing, and… I believe… this generation will surpass all expectations with enough time.”
Ningguang freezes. How can a half-adepti have more faith in the Qixing than the Tianquan herself does now? She’s been taking things slowly, a day at a time, for it’s all that she can deal with without smashing half of Mount Tianheng into smithereens, or pouring unnecessary resources into finding where that damn Archon of theirs went and giving him a piece of her mind.
She takes a deep breath, blinking back the thin film of tears. Ah. Is she so stressed that she can barely control her emotions, now? What a shame. “Thank you… dear Ganyu. I appreciate it,” Ningguang murmurs softly, patting the half-adepti’s hand.
She quickly leaves before her shaky walls can crumble, retreating back to her mansion behind Yuehai Pavilion. It frustrates her more than usual today that she can’t return to the privacy of the Jade Chamber now.
Just like Beidou. She’s somewhere far away, so far that Ningguang can’t reach her, and she doesn’t know if she will have another chance.
A gaping maw opens up in her chest again. Ningguang swallows thickly, willing the hot tears pricking her eyes and the lump in her throat to recede. At times like these, the pain of the loss almost seems like it isn’t worth what she’d traded her old friend for.
She gave the Jade Chamber up for feelings — the most beautiful and most cruel reward of all. In losing her only friend, she learned the joy of receiving gratitude and admiration; the pleasure of finding a friend; the warmth and giddiness of learning to love.
But she has also learned the emptiness of grief; the agony of separation; the helplessness of despair.
Ningguang shakes her head. The movement makes her head throb more. She can’t afford to dwell on matters of the heart, not now. There’s just so much to do, so many laws that still require amendments now that there is no divine oversight. For how will contracts now be kept without the wrath of the rock?
Law and order, which once rested in Morax’s divine grip, have now fallen to seven humans to maintain.
But she can’t think beyond the ceaseless pounding in her head. Perhaps she’ll just… close her eyes for a while.
It’s a fine day for sailing, but Beidou stays cooped up in her quarters. The Crux Fleet will dock at Liyue Harbour soon, and she still hasn’t figured out how she’s going to apologise to Ningguang. Should she start with a sappy confession? Ask Kazuha to write her a haiku?
Nah.
Beidou scrunches up the paper she’s scribbling on into a ball, tossing it onto the growing pile of paper balls in the corner. Maybe just being herself would be alright. It’s all Ningguang has ever asked for, after all.
Beidou glances at the lovely pink box, shaped like a seashell, on her table. Inside it is a flawless Sangonomiya pearl. When she’d spoken to Kokomi about her plans, the priestess had brought her to a lovely spot where several pearls grew. Beidou had picked the one that caught her eye first.
The one in which light seemed to coalesce into shimmering rainbow waves, the one that reminded her of Ningguang the most.
Shouts, followed by the sound of the Alcor’s gangplank falling onto wood, snaps Beidou out of her thoughts. They’ve arrived.
The Captain quickly pockets the seashell box, exiting her quarters and giving a hearty wave to Juza before hopping off the gangplank. She weaves in and out of the crowd, the hot afternoon sun bearing down on her tanned skin, as she makes her way to Ningguang’s little mansion.
The guards let her in, although Ningguang’s secretaries are nowhere to be found. Perhaps they are out running errands on their lady’s orders. It’s rare, but it has happened before. The mansion is cool and quiet; perhaps a little too quiet. The pirate gingerly makes a right turn, heading down the corridor to Ningguang’s study. The door is slightly ajar. Beidou pauses, pushing the door open—
“Ning?!”
Her beloved star is collapsed on the floor of the study, motionless. Beidou’s mind completely blanks as she hurriedly cradles the unconscious woman in her arms, fingers searching for a pulse on her wrist. Her pulse is strong and her breathing alright. She’s alive.
Thank the Archons.
But why did she–? Terrified, Beidou quickly lifts Ningguang in her arms — has she always been this light? — and carries her to the bedroom, quickly making her comfortable in bed. Doctor, she has to get a doctor—
“Beidou…?”
“Ning!” The pirate drops all that she’s doing, turning round to clutch her star’s hand in hers. Ningguang’s wine-red eyes are open, but there is a slight glaze to them that worries her. She has no idea how Ningguang fell, whether she hurt her head, anything— “Ning, my star, you fainted. But it’s alright. I’ll get Baizhu to look at you, okay? I’ll be back soon,” she babbles, letting go.
Ningguang’s hand closes around her wrist weakly.
A pang of guilt shoots through Beidou’s heart as she takes her slender hand, placing it back on the bed. “Ning, I’m worried about you. Stay here. I won’t be gone long.” The brunette bends, pressing her lips to Ningguang’s forehead before breaking into a run.
Where the hell are her secretaries? How could they just leave her alone like that?
Rage fuels Beidou’s sprint as she flies up the stairs to Bubu Pharmacy, bursting through the doors and nearly barreling into the doctor himself. Baizhu grabs her shoulders, his grip firm and steady. “Easy, Captain,” he says slowly. “What’s going on?”
“Ningguang,” Beidou gasps out, wheezing, “She—”
That’s all it takes for Baizhu to grab his medical supplies and follow Beidou to Ningguang’s mansion. The pirate paces up and down the corridor outside the Tianquan’s room, not wanting to disturb the doctor while he checks on her. She repeats her steps so many times her boots are about to wear down the wood she walks on.
Beidou bites her lip, a hand in her pocket, tightly gripping the seashell box. She’d planned to have a good, long chat with Ningguang, not find her unconscious in her study, the colour all but drained from her face.
The door finally opens, and Beidou skids to a halt. “How is she?” the captain demands.
“She needs to rest,” Baizhu says calmly. “She has been under heavy stress for some time. I believe she passed out from a severe headache… and she hasn’t eaten or slept well.”
Beidou’s heart sinks. “She’ll… be okay, right?”
“If she rests sufficiently, takes the medication I’ve given her and eats proper meals, yes.” His brow furrows. “Lady Ningguang is not the first of the Qixing to come down with similar issues lately. I’d best check on Uncle Tian… can I leave her in your capable hands for now, captain?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Baizhu’s words echo in her mind. She creeps into Ningguang’s room, careful not to disturb her. An assortment of bottles sit on her bedside table. An incense stick burns in a corner, filling the room with the calming scent of qingxin mixed with glaze lilies.
Beidou attempts to sit on a stool, but accidentally kicks it with her boot. The stool makes the most unpleasant screech she’s ever heard in her life as it moves just a fraction of an inch.
That lovely pair of wine-red eyes tiredly open.
“Shit. Sorry,” Beidou sighs, carrying the stool over. “Ning, how are you feeling?”
“Better… thank you, Beidou,” Ningguang murmurs, turning her head to observe her.
Beidou only nods in relief. She isn’t sure what to say or do now. She is only aware of the terrible guilt hanging on her shoulders as she pieces everything together. Ningguang must have been stressed since the Crux Clash began, and Beidou had been too angry with her to be patient, like she usually is.
And then — she’d sailed off to Inazuma without another word.
“It’s been hard on you, hasn’t it?” the pirate asks softly, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “Baizhu said you collapsed from… stress.”
Ningguang sighs, closing her eyes at Beidou’s gentle touch. “It comes with the job, I’m afraid. Just… tell me what you’re planning next time, Beidou. I don’t want to hear it from my people… I want to hear it from you.”
Perhaps you’re one of the few she can trust.
“I’m sorry, Ning.” She takes the Tianquan’s hand, pressing her lips to her knuckles. “I didn’t because… I knew you’d worry.” I didn’t want to add on to your burdens. “I wanted to just finish this quickly and come back.” But I made you worry, didn’t I? “You’ve had a hard time since… Osial, I just wanted to—”
Ningguang takes her hand, tugging at it lightly. Beidou understands. She unclips her fur shawl, draping it over the stool, and then shakes off her boots, clambering onto the bed. Here, holding her closely, with her body pressed against Ningguang’s, she can almost feel the woman’s ribs under her arms. “Archons. I need to feed you,” Beidou mutters.
“I don’t have an appetite.”
“You’d refuse to eat limp cabbage soup?”
Ningguang huffs. “It is not limp cabbage, and… fine, I suppose I can stomach that.”
“I’ll get some later,” Beidou promises. “Even if it’s just a few mouthfuls… you need to eat.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, though the pirate still feels like she isn’t done apologising or making up for this. She idly strokes Ningguang’s silky white hair, listening to her slow, calm breaths and warming her cold, clammy body with her arms. It’s so comfortable like this, just them. Her eyelid grows heavy.
Then—
“I’m sorry, too,” Ningguang breathes into Beidou’s chest. “I should have been honest with you. It was just… a difficult time for the Qixing. For me.”
It still is.
“Don’t be.” The brunette plants a kiss on her forehead. “I know what I signed up for when I chose you, Ning. You are the most difficult woman ever to love” — Ningguang makes a noise of disapproval, and Beidou chuckles — “but also the most rewarding.”
Gently, Beidou tilts her star’s head up, smiling at the clarity in her wine-red eyes. “My light, your smile… is all I need. Every moment that you smile… is worth more than any treasure I’ll ever find.”
And I would do anything to bring you happiness, my guiding star.
The Tianquan’s cheeks redden. She lowers her head shyly, burrowing her head into the crook of her arm. Beidou lets out another soft chuckle. “Oh, wow. You’re so shy today.”
“I will confess that you… are more eloquent these days,” Ningguang mumbles into her chest. “Is it Kazuha’s influence, perhaps?”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
A slender finger lightly jabs her in the rib. “Most of the time you’re uncouth. Ill-mannered. Boorish.”
“Hey, hey! I might have to get you some golden crab for that.”
“I’ll make sure to throw it up on your exquisite fur shawl.”
“What the hell, Ning!”
The Tianquan finally lets out a light laugh, and Beidou’s heart soars into the sky.
A few days later, Lady Ningguang makes her way down to Mingxing Jewelry to pick up an order. It’s given to her in a silk pouch. She hands over the exact amount of Mora plus a generous tip for the quick turnaround, and returns to her mansion.
In the privacy of her room, she tips over the pouch, letting its contents fall gently onto the table.
It is the ‘S’-shaped hair clip with a red tassel that she loves to wear on her forehead, but with one change. The pearl that the tassel is attached to now glimmers in the sun, the light coalescing within it into shimmering rainbow waves.
She fixes the clip back on its usual spot, admiring how the iridescent pearl gleams and shines with every movement. A faint smile graces her lips.
Beidou will love it. Ningguang does, too.
Outside the walls of her mansion, the morning sun’s warm rays continue lighting up the land. The calm sea sparkles under sunlight, a liquid blue mirror reflecting the sky.
And today, at least, all is right and well again.
不必了。你的心就是我整个世界。
No need for that. Your heart — that is my world.
—FIN.