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Chapter Text

Keqing’s journey to the Chasm had been rather uneventful thus far—the path, while still littered with camps of treasure hoarders and hilichurls, proved little match to her and the caravan of Millelith that came with her.

Work within the Chasm Underground had been slowly picking up again, much to the relief of many miners and their families, who were becoming antsy about the lack of work. Thus, to ensure the safety of the miners, Keqing and the team of surveyors needed to check which tunnels were safe to continue digging and which areas were to be avoided. Yelan’s ongoing exploration of the Chasm played a major role in drawing up new maps. 

She sighed, heavy with a day’s worth of hard work and contentment and stretched her arms up high into the air. It had been a long while since she last handled a pickaxe but working alongside the miners today made her appreciate their efforts all the more. 

The one major concern was that odd dark sludge that had been contaminating the caverns and how extensive its spread were. Yelan always gave a report regarding the matter whenever she returned to the Harbor, so the surveyors were adequately equipped to deal with it, but eradicating the mud still needed a long-term solution.

Keqing blew out the candle to her lamp and her tent was enveloped in darkness. She slipped out of her work tunic and pants, threw on a simple shirt and shorts, and climbed into her cot. 

Tomorrow was another day—while she planned to do some exploration during her expedition, the main priority was to secure and establish new mining caverns for the eventual influx of miners that were slated to return for work.

Yes, Keqing thought as drowsiness crept into her consciousness. One step at a time. 

.

.

.

When Keqing roused from her sleep, it wasn’t because of the breaking of dawn.

The sun had already started to rise and her tent was very dimly illuminated with the morning light.

What woke Keqing up instead was the faintest of rustling. She continued to lay there in her cot, but her arm slowly gravitated to her bedside, fingers grazing the hilt of her sword. Squinting, she noticed the dark mass of a shadow outside her tent. The figure was much too large to be any human—or human at all for that matter. And despite the fuzzy outline, there were shapes there that seemed almost like feathers.

A long neck. A pointed beak. Thin stilted legs…

Actually, no. She knew who that was, but why—

Suddenly, the figure barged right into the tent.

“Yuheng!”

Keqing screamed. 

Cloud Retainer—who only thrust her head through the small tent opening as the rest of her body would not fit in the cramped space—flinched at the sound. “Yuheng!” Cloud Retainer bellowed again, “It is only dawn and that is how you choose to address one? After one has decided to come find you?” 

Keqing reflexively scrambled to cover herself with her thin sheets. “Archons, what—what in the—” She exhaled sharply. “C-Cloud Retainer! How did you—no, what’s the occasion? That you would come all this way! And so early!”

If Cloud Retainer heard any modicum of sarcasm—though, considering the circumstances, Keqing was too busy calming her racing heart than to think about pleasantries—she didn’t seem to notice it. “One has made a breakthrough in one’s research!”

Keqing blinked once, to clear her eyes of the residual sleepiness. Then twice when she was slow to process what Cloud Retainer had just said. “Your r-research?” 

“Indeed! One has been very inspired after receiving that gadget that you have presented one last Lantern Rite. So much so that one needed to show you.”

“That you flew to the Chasm to find me?”

“Left one's abode in search of you!”

“Literally, all this way.”

“From the mountain peaks of Aocang!” 

“And so very early!”

“One had to make haste!”

So you’re telling me that you flew from the other side of the country, to wake me up at the crack of dawn, barge rudely into my tent—so you can brag about your adepti research!

Keqing could roll her eyes so hard that her brain could have rolled with it. 

“I… see,” Keqing said lamely. 

At Keqing’s apparent lack of enthusiasm, Cloud Retainer narrowed her eyes. “One did not imagine that the Yuheng would not be what you humans call, ‘an early bird’.”

Keqing said nothing for several moments longer, blinking away her incredulity that time and swallowing the words that first came to mind. No, no. Keqing reminded herself. Grandpa taught me better than that. Gotta behave in front of Ganyu’s mom.

Nevertheless, she replied with a tight smile. “I am taken by surprise, is all. I wasn’t expecting a visitor, much less one from you.” 

That at least was true. Keqing wasn’t sure where she stood with the adepti and whatnot. Should she be flattered that Cloud Retainer felt so strongly about seeing her that she decided to come down from her lofty abode? Truthfully, she was. A little.

That sentiment had shifted over time since Rex Lapis’ departure as Liyue’s Archon. As their biggest critic, being sought out for Cloud Retainer herself to have Keqing listen to one of her spontaneous ideas was something that Keqing might had never thought was a possibility in years past.

But in all honesty, the only adeptus whose opinion that wholly mattered to her was…

Keqing subtly cleared her throat.

“It must be very important,” Keqing tried again, refocusing. “Let’s not dawdle any longer then.” 

She threw off the blanket and sat up from her cot. As she walked to her bag that held her usual violet silk work clothes, she could still feel Cloud Retainer’s eyes on her. Expectant might had been the word to describe it—in a well, c’mon then hurry it up! type of manner—but it made her skin crawl anyway.

“If you can give me three minutes, I’ll reconvene with you outside.” 

Cloud Retainer tilted her head, a gesture of curiosity. “Oh, Yuheng. Are you ashamed to be underdressed? Do not fret. Do you not recall? One has taken care of little Ganyu and Shenhe since they were young.” She chuckled to herself, as if a fond memory tickled her. “Why, there was a time when Ganyu was as—”

Keqing cleared her throat loudly, interrupting her. “A-ah, please, Cloud Retainer! If you were to give me only a few minutes of privacy, I’ll be ready to listen about the fruits of your research. Since you seem very proud of your work, I very much like to properly learn more about your accomplishments.” 

And, well, to spare Ganyu the embarrassment of having Cloud Retainer spill more childhood secrets, even if she wasn’t there with them.

“Properly.” Cloud Retainer repeated.

Keqing replied with a flicking motion with her wrist. Go, shoo! “Yes, please. When I am properly dressed.” 

Finally, the crane adeptus withdrew from the tent. Keqing sighed. 

True to her word, Keqing threw on her clothes quickly, as to not make her guest wait even a second longer than necessary. When she emerged from the tent, Cloud Retainer was perched on a higher cliff, likely to avoid other human interactions. Only a flick of her wrist and a jolt of Electro was required for Keqing to scale the height in a flash.

Keqing clapped once, signaling the beginning of their impromptu meeting. “Alright. I’m ready. What is it that you want to discuss?” 

“Yuheng.” Cloud Retainer said. “One would like to gift you something.”

“Oh?” 

Then, suddenly, there was a blur from her peripherals. Keqing’s head whipped around only for the blurred mass to literally fly right in front of her.

A bird of pale turquoise similar in shade to Cloud Retainer’s feathers floated in the air. But it wasn’t a bird, simply bird-like in appearance. That, Keqing could ascertain after a moment. It was an artificial bird, made of stacked thin layers. The soft glow that emitted from its wings and tail feathers reminded Keqing of the variety of Plaustrite ore that Ningguang fitted to the bottom of her Jade Chamber, allowing the massive palace to float. But the creature-device was much too thin to be able to house a stone such as that. 

“This is one’s newest creation,” Cloud Retainer explained, proud with a touch of smugness in her voice. “Its name is yet to be finalized, but you may refer to it as a damasked device.” 

“The material that you used… is it like paper? ” Keqing asked.

“Enchanted with adeptus divination for excellent durability against the elements,” Cloud Retainer replied with a nod. 

Keqing made a sound from the back of her throat. Impressive. 

Reflexively, Keqing raised her elbow up; then the bird’s talons latched onto her forearm. The bird was light, as expected, and Keqing experimentally jostled it with a gentle bob up and down of her elbow. The bird didn’t make a peep, only continuing to stare at her with empty, black eyes. 

But the bird offered no answers to Keqing’s questions. So Keqing asked them herself. “This is quite interesting. But I suppose I need more context. What exactly were you researching and what does this have to do with it?” 

To that, Cloud Retainer chirped back: “Classified information.” 

It was so curt of a response that Keqing did not quite process it. “I… Excuse me?”

“One cannot tell you the topic of research yet,” was Cloud Retainer's reply. 

“What?” 

As if understanding the reason for Keqing's confusion, she said: “Ah. You must have misunderstood, Yuheng.” Cloud Retainer jutted her beak towards the bird. “One wanted to show the current progress of the research, not partake in discussion about it.”

“You’re telling me…” Incredulity was thick in her voice. “You flew from the other side of the country, to wake me up at the crack of dawn, barge into my tent—so you can brag about your unfinished adepti research and not even tell me what exactly it is!”

“Precisely.” And she was so proud of herself too!

The nerve of these adepti, Keqing thought. Their pushiness! Their selfishness! Once again, she has yet another justification as to why the divine should learn to mind their own business.

Oblivious to Keqing slowly clenching and unclenching her fist, Cloud Retainer said: “As a final step, one needs feedback. Additional information for data collection purposes.”

Keqing furrowed her brows. She did not like where this was going. “Meaning?” 

“One wishes for you to keep this contraption with you at all times. After a period of time, one will return to extract data from it. Then! One will divulge the full results as well as one’s motivations,” Cloud Retainer replied. 

Keqing suppressed the urge to click her tongue in irritation; obviously, Cloud Retainer was keen on keeping things a secret. Likewise, Keqing was not keen on signing up for things without knowing the terms of service. “I cannot accept your proposition unless you tell me more about it.” 

“As a fellow expert in the field of research and innovations, one might think that you, Yuheng, should understand—one should not report inconclusive results early. There are still steps to be done before conclusions can be drawn.” 

“And as your fellow expert in the field, I simply cannot agree to any project terms blindly. You should know that as well.” 

“One’s project is for Ganyu’s sake, but she is not aware of what one plans on doing. A surprise, as you might call it.” 

Wait. What?

Ganyu? 

Keqing stood a little straighter. “Has something happened to her? Is she alright?”

“She is fine; only that she has certain troubles yet is too preoccupied with her own worries to act upon them. That is where one requires your help.” 

“My help,” Keqing repeated, eying the flying device with more skepticism. “Undoubtedly, I will do whatever I can for Ganyu, but…”

“Worry not of the process, Yuheng. One knows what one is doing,” Cloud Retainer said sagely.

Somehow, Keqing had her doubts.

“You just want me to bring this bird around with me and give it back to you later? How will that be of any use?” Keqing asked again.

“One will reveal it to you in due time.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you or Ganyu instead?”

“None.”

“And this is all to help Ganyu?” Whatever that may be.

Cloud Retainer nodded. 

It was still too far-fetched. Keqing frowned. 

Still, she could not ignore the fact that Cloud Retainer specifically came to her about Ganyu—because archons, what happened? It was only a few days ago that Keqing left the Harbor. She did not notice Ganyu acting strangely nor did she mention anything to Keqing. No, that was slightly untrue. Nowadays, Ganyu seemed to have a slight flush on her face whenever they spoke. So was she sick? Concealing a chronic illness so dire that Cloud Retainer had to step in? Yet Cloud Retainer had just said that she was fine.

…Unless there was more to this story than meets the eye.

In the end, her concern won out. “If that is what is needed of me, I’ll do it,” Keqing finally agreed, albeit with a fair bit of hesitation. But, okay. Fine. Whatever. The task was easy enough. Until she completed her expeditions, there really was not much else she could say to refuse. Cloud Retainer did not seem like she was giving her a choice in the matter in the first place. Keqing would have to confront Ganyu about her condition when she returned to the Harbor too. Gently, obviously. She did not want to scare her off.

Cloud Retainer nodded again, more enthusiastically. “Splendid. Then, Yuheng, One will leave this to you.” She gestured towards the paper-like bird. 

“Yes. And if there is anything else that you might need of me, tell me at once,” Keqing said. 

“Of course,” Cloud Retainer said. “One knew that you would be accommodating. For your patience, one has included an additional feature to the contraption, designed with you in mind. A special feature. Unique to this device model. One is sure that you will find it to your liking.” 

After this, Keqing wasn’t sure if she should be appreciative or cautious. “Thanks.” 

The bird contraption never seemed to lose energy and Keqing didn’t see a switch to turn it off either. She wondered how it was powered. Ah, but Cloud Retainer said it was enchanted by her own power—did that mean it might only stop flying when Cloud Retainer released her enchantment or it somehow depleted its energy on its own? 

True to her word, Keqing kept the bird out while she walked around the Chasm grounds. Also as expected, she felt curious gazes of the miners and researchers at her back. 

Keqing did her best to act naturally when she met with the crew slated for the morning shift; there was no need to feel anxious over her new companion.

The manager of the site, Muning, bowed to Keqing when he saw her approach. “Your Eminence.” He then eyed the bird creature. 

“Pay it no mind,” Keqing answered immediately when she noticed a question forming at the tip of his tongue. “I can’t say much on the details.” Truly, she had no idea what she was doing. “I need to keep around me while I’m here. But if it becomes a distraction, let me know.” 

“Of course, Lady Yuheng,” he said. “Did you make it yourself? It’s brilliant.” 

It was, wasn’t it? The ingenuity of it was certainly beyond average human engineering. It was in bad taste, but Keqing’s hands itched to take the thing apart to find out how it worked. After Cloud Retainer was finished with her so-called data collection, perhaps Keqing might request for permission to tamper with it.

She shook her head. “You can say that I’m bird-sitting for someone.” 

The crew entered the caverns, starting the descent to a safe zone with their gliders. Keqing and Muning descended with them. The bird rode the wind seamlessly, even backflipping in mid-flight. Keqing smiled a little. At least it was cute. 

“Lady Keqing!” Jiaming, one of the Millelith sergeants in charge of overseeing Chasm-related operations, called out when Keqing’s feet touched the landing pad. “Good morning. I hope you slept soundly last night.” 

She did, until a frightfully rude awakening. “Good morning to you and the rest of the team as well. I’m holding up very well, thanks.” 

“Oh, that’s a fancy little guy.” He nodded towards the bird.

She grinned. “I’m taking it out for a walk, so to speak. But if it becomes a distraction, I’ll put it away.”

He laughed. “It should be fine, right lads?” He called out to the rest of the crew who echoed out a chipper “aye!” in response. “It could be like our little canary today. Does it sing?”

Keqing grinned back. “No idea.” 

He laughed again. 

A resounding boom echoed deeper within the underground. “We’ve already gotten started; everyone’s eager to be back. First thing we gotta do is to clear out the new routes.” 

Keqing nodded, following his footsteps. “Find anything of interest yet?”

“Nay. Bit of mud here and there but as soon as you shine some light on it, it slinks back into the darkness. Ah, but we did dig up something from the initial blast.” 

They approached two other miners, who just finished lugging a small wooden chest from the debris of the worksite. One of the workers said: “There’s a few of these scattered about. I wonder who put them down here.” 

That was a question that Keqing didn’t have an answer to either. Random treasure chests were all over Liyue as well. They didn’t really contain anything of value—a note from a traveling adventurer;  several refined crystals for forging; a pocketful of mora was usually common. The Traveler, however, searched for them in a frantic frenzy. Whenever they found a fragment of a rainbow-colored gem, they always looked like they were on the verge of crying tears of joy. It was a spectacle that convinced Keqing give any fragments she might find away to the Traveler the next time they visited but that wasn’t her call to make. 

In the Underground, the workers and researchers liked to stash away the loot until it was enough to buy everyone a round of drinks for when they make their triumphant return to the Harbor. It was a fun tradition, one that bolstered the camaraderie of those who worked in the Chasm; Keqing occasionally liked to partake in it too just for the heck of it.

“Lady Yuheng, since you’re here, want to do the honors?” Muning patted the top of the chest.

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? All we care about is whether there’s mora or crystals. You can take the dusty old adventurer notes. Perhaps there might be something worthwhile to read in one of them.” 

Keqing chuckled. Well, she did learn a few tips and tricks about surviving the wilderness from them before. “I suppose I can flip through one of them during my breaks.” 

Unknownst to the three, the bird did an excited backflip in the air as Keqing's hand inched closer and closer.

Keqing unlatched the chest and pried it open. 

Suddenly!

A loud pop! 

“What—”

A burst of color exploded out of the bird’s tail end.

Jiaming jumped back in surprise; Muning scrunched his nose in disgust; Keqing flinched.

A morbid curiosity took over and Keqing wordlessly held her hand out. Several squares of brightly colored paper floated gently into her open palm. 

The bird innocuously did another backflip. Bits of confetti fluttered daintily in the air. 

That… that wasn’t the special feature that Cloud Retainer had mentioned, was it?

“Um,” Jiaming started, “Lady Yuheng, what was that?”

What a great question, indeed!

Keqing could feel her neck warm. She grabbed the bird, folded in its wings, tucked it into a spare drawstring satchel, and put it into her rucksack. She sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

Yes, she really did not understand what those damn adepti were thinking after all. 

Chapter Text

The downpour around the mountains was expected, but the duration of it was not. 

After leaving the Chasm, Keqing headed north instead of going back to the Harbor. She trekked towards Jueyun Karst and settled into a shallow cavern for shelter when the weather took a turn for the worst. 

Having her travels set back a day wasn’t much of a problem, so long as Keqing was back in her office by the morning. 

She looked to where her backpack was. Right next to it was a small bundle of qingxin flowers, delicately wrapped in a blue silk cloth but slightly damp due to the rain. 

Qingxin was already hard to come by and with Bubu Pharmacy being the main supplier, it meant Keqing needed to go the very literal extra mile to gather more when they were not readily in stock. 

Ganyu was quite fond of them, she knew. It was the reason why Keqing chose to extend her leave date for a few more days. The amount that she had was sufficient, but had the rain not impeded her climbs, she could have procured more. A shame. 

At the moment, she stopped at the foot of the Jueyun Karst mountains for a break. 

The damasked device flew up and did an aerial backflip. Keqing smiled at it and held out her hand. The paper-like talons gently grasped at her index finger and Keqing gave it a poke. In response, the bird opened its mouth for a wordless chirp. 

She only had it for several days and it was becoming increasingly clear that the bird didn’t offer any helpful mechanisms—or at least, there was none that Keqing had discovered thus far. In fact, it did not do much at all besides float in the air. Even carrying the flowers that Keqing gathered was too much for the device. 

That extra feature that Cloud Retainer installed was, ultimately, an extraneous one. While traveling from the Chasm to the lofty peaks and cliffs of the Minlin terrain, Keqing managed to find a handful of other hidden treasure chests. Therefore, more confetti. 

Admittedly, the one good thing that the bird offered was companionship. Keqing, who was so used to venturing off to the wilderness by herself, underestimated the growing sentiment until she woke in the morning to the bird hovering by her face. Within the last several days, Keqing found herself entertaining the idea of inviting someone along to go backpacking with her someday. 

Today, however, was the last day of her excursion. It would be best if she could make it back to the city as soon as possible; the flowers were freshly picked and Keqing did not know how long they would last without proper care. She could zip straight to the city with the use of her Vision but being too hasty might invite bruising or damage and that was also not ideal. And she needed to tread carefully when traversing the wet and muddy trails. 

As long as Keqing made it to work on time the following morning, everything would be fine. The sun was still high in the sky and there was no sign of rain. She could afford a break. 

Keqing readjusted her grip on her sword. She straightened her posture, exhaling deep and slow. 

Wielding her sword was a sort of meditation. Empty the mind; focus on her breaths; keep her steps light; move without sound, but with grace.

The exercise went on for a while as Keqing concentrated on her movements. A peace that only a weapon could bring to a practiced warrior. 

Then there was a disturbance in the air. It was without malice, but the sensation of being watched sent tingles down Keqing’s spine. 

A flutter of wings. The clopping of hooves.

“Yuheng.”

An otherworldly voice called out to her. The sound of it broke the stillness of her meditation. Keqing stopped and wiped the sweat off her brow. “Mountain Shaper. Moon Carver.” 

The two adepti were watching her carefully. Mountain Shaper was the first to speak. “Yuheng of the Qixing. What brings you to our holy ground?” 

Keqing bowed out of respect. “Am I too close to the mountain border? I didn’t mean to overstay.” She only meant to grab a few more flowers before leaving. “My apologies. I took shelter from the rain and came down to stretch my legs.”

Mountain Shaper shook his head. “Do not mind us. Continue.” 

Keqing raised a brow. “If I am a bother, I can go on my way.”

“No. Continue what you were doing.” 

It piqued her interest, the way that the old adeptus seemed so keen on observing her. Though she could not imagine why. 

She swung her sword again.

Moon Carver remained silent but Mountain Shaper continued to drawl. “The Demon Conqueror remembered the Yuheng as the one skilled in swordsmanship.” 

“Really.” Keqing continued to slash at empty air, imagining an enemy in her mind’s eyes: he rushed into her space with an upward cut; she dodged it and retaliated with a slice to his exposed torso and her blade found the underside of his sword arm. 

“One had also watched your performance during the battle against those pesky Fatui and the sea-god Osial. Certainly such speed and precision must have been honed through the fires of battle and hours of dedication.”

Keqing grunted. An imaginary cleaving blow to her left—sidestep away, distance, rush, and slash!

“One has also heard of a peculiar rumor.”

Parry once. Her opponent might be heavier, so use the weight of their blade and redirect it. Wssh! The sound of tempered steel whistling. Keqing grunted again, half with exertion and half with indifference.

“A passerby meandering the side of Mt. Hulao muttered a curious thing while he was foolishly defacing one’s amber rocks with a chisel, Yuheng. Before one threw him off the mountain, he spoke of a legend; that there was a time that you trained your steel against stone.”

In between slashes, Keqing replied: “I used to practice by a small quarry near Cuijue Slope and Lihua Pool.”

At a young age, she already surpassed her peers and her master in swordplay and needed to find a new way to improve.  

She didn’t remember how she came up with the idea but one day Keqing decided to hone her technique against the quarry’s rocks—she needed to become quicker, stronger, sharper. To move at the speed of light! She became quite acquainted with their local blacksmith at the same time too, for each time she returned, she gave him a busted-up sword to repair. In response to her tenacity, the blacksmith forged her a new blade. When even that blade could not keep up, the blacksmith gifted her an exceptionally special one that was in need of a new owner.

“Show it to one,” Mountain Shaper said. His wings stretched wide. “I wish to see the techniques that impressed even the Vigilant Yaksha.” 

Keqing let out a fierce cry, her final strike a thrust into her imagined opponent’s chest. She impaled the tip of the Lion’s Roar into the wet ground, lodging it upright. She exhaled sharply, taking in the crisp, fresh air. 

She looked to the sky again, mentally calculating how much time she had left until sundown. 

If it was just one demonstration, she could do it. 

She slung her pack over her shoulder and picked up the bouquet of qingxin.

“If you insist.” 

.

.

.

They made their way down the mountains. Keqing instantly recognized the location as the one that she used to frequent in the past. 

They were not alone however. A lone figure stood in the quarry and to Keqing’s surprise, hoisting up literally boulders over her head and lining them up in a row. 

“Shenhe,” Mountain Shaper called out to her. Shenhe looked towards the group’s direction and dropped another sizable boulder down. Keqing felt the ground tremble from the weight of it.

“It is done, as requested,” Shenhe said, seemingly already knowing why they were there. 

Somehow, Keqing was beginning to feel like she was set up. 

“Yuheng! One would like to test your skill,” Mountain Shaper boomed. “One was intrigued by what one had heard and would like to see your martial prowess for oneself.” He stretched his wing towards the row of boulders.  The nearest one to them was only as high enough to reach Shenhe’s waist. The rest were of varying heights but still with progressively larger in size than the first. “One has prepared a trial for you.” 

“A… trial?” The stone furthest away from them wasn’t just a stone, it was like a mountain! And it towered over them—why, it was nearly as massive as the Plaustrite ore that Shenhe and the Traveler retrieved for the rebuilding of the Jade Chamber! 

Keqing whirled around to Shenhe. “Shenhe! What is the meaning of this?” 

But the taller woman simply shrugged. “My master told me that Mountain Shaper required my assistance today. I was only doing what I was told.”

“Now, Yuheng, Prepare yourself.” Mountain Shaper pawed at the dirt with his talons in anticipation. “These stones—cut it down!” 

Now she had second thoughts. “Actually, you know what, how about another time? I just remembered there are pressing material on my desk that I really need to address—” 

“Now!”

“Shenhe!” In a last-ditch effort, Keqing turned to Shenhe again. “Shenhe, please. I really should get going.” Which was not untrue. Her deadline was to be back at her office early tomorrow morning. But they did not need to know that part. She did not want to entertain adepti frivolities—the last time she did that, she got stuck with a paper bird with explosive confetti for diarrhea. “Can you talk to him, please?” 

Shenhe tilted her head. “But… I am also curious to see your bladework as well. When we fought against the sea monster by the Guyun Stone Forest, I didn't have the chance to properly observe you.” 

Keqing suppressed a groan. “I can show you later. Another day. I need to—”

“Ganyu said…” The name made Keqing halt right in her tracks. Shenhe said in a low voice: “Ganyu said she likes watching you practice.”

There were a handful of occasions that Ganyu walked in on her training out on the Guili Plains. Keqing was not sure how Ganyu managed to find her or why she was even out that far from the city to begin with, but she’d sit in until she finished.  Sometimes Keqing even invited her for a spar. It turned out Ganyu was pretty good with a sword too.

Keqing licked her chapped lips. “When did she, uh, say that?”

“The last time she came back to the mountains.” 

“Ganyu likes watching me… train?”

“She likes how flashy you are, she said.”

“Flashy.” 

“When you use your Electro, it’s very flashy.”

“O-okay… Um.” Keqing deflated a little. “Is that it?” 

Shenhe nodded. “She likes seeing you work hard.” 

“Oh.” Keqing perked up again. “Really.”

“That’s what she said,” Shenhe affirmed. 

Keqing cleared her throat, trying to brush away the slight heat creeping up her neck. “W-well, I guess. I can stay for a little longer.”

Archons, she was so easy. When it came to Ganyu, Keqing was so, so easy.

Shenhe nodded again, her expression unchanging except for a glimmer of anticipation in her iridescent eyes. “I want to see too.” 

Keqing materialized her sword. “Just this once.”

“Please.”  

“Shenhe.” 

“Yes?”

“Hurry it up, Yuheng!” Mountain Shaper bellowed. 

“Can you stand back a little?”

Shenhe tilted her head to the side curiously. Keqing recalled that Cloud Retainer did that too, whenever someone or something puzzled her. Ganyu did as well. Maybe it was a learned habit from being raised by the same parental figure. Regardless, Shenhe did as she was told.

Keqing glided her fingers over the length of the blade, imbuing the cool steel with crackling electricity. “Don’t blink then, otherwise you’ll miss it.” 

A flash! And the next moment was just muted whistling of air—then the soft clack of heels touching back down on the ground. 

Keqing tossed stray strands of her hair over her shoulder with a huff. She walked back towards her audience. “Well? Satisfied?” 

Indeed, the task was over in mere seconds: where the one boulder once stood was now cut into polished stone. The smooth surface gleamed brightly with the reflection of the sun beating down on it. Shenhe clapped her hands together in a soft applause; now, she seemed almost impressed. Keqing had the urge to bow. 

Unbothered by the shine, Mountain Shaper approached the mirror-like stone. He craned his neck side-to-side, inspecting it closely. “Hm.”

“Yes?” 

“You heated your sword with Electro to superficially melt the surface and make it easier to cut,” he commented, staring at his clear reflection. 

“The rocks found in this quarry have the same physical properties.” Keqing started then stopped short. Well, she did not really want to go into a whole big spiel about it. 

“Hm.” 

“The key is efficiency. By using heat, it saves time from me from whittling away at it like the traditional way.” 

“Efficiency?” Mountain Shaper huffed. “No, nevermind. You do not need to explain. one is not like Cloud Retainer, who likes to dabble with the mortals' quest for strange knowledge. Your so-called, eh,  ‘physics’.” 

Keqing blinked. “Well, physics is part of it, true. Specifically, I was talking about the stone’s mechanical properties and related thermodynamic theories as to why this technique is scientifically proven. To put it simply, the rocks are quite hard and excessive force might shatter my sword. Likewise, being too forceful increases the likelihood of cracking because the material is brittle—material hardness is different from its brittleness, mind. The shear force from the blade edge could tear—”

“No, no!” Mountain Shaper hushed her quickly. “Enough. One is not interested!” He flapped his wings in an angry flurry then jutted his beak at the next rock. “Do not forget why you were called here, Yuheng. The trial, we must continue!”

Keqing tried not to scrunch her nose. “Isn’t this enough? I shouldn’t linger longer than necessary.” 

“Most definitely not, it will not suffice!” Again, the heron adeptus pawed at the ground impatiently. “You must carve every single stone here!” 

Now this was where she drew the line. “Listen, I haven’t got the time for this,” Keqing said evenly. “There are responsibilities waiting for me back in the Harbor. I will not risk delaying them for the sake of entertaining your games. Please understand.” 

“A game! A mere game, she calls it!” 

Wasn’t it?

And Keqing turned heel, meaning to leave it as that. 

But then, Mountain Shaper snorted indignantly. “Oh? Perhaps the rumors about the fearsome fangs of the Yuheng were false after all.” 

Keqing stopped mid-step. “Pardon?” 

“Is there a reason why you are so reluctant to reveal your skills before us? Did the Conqueror of Demons misjudge the level of your swordsmanship and to save yourself the embarrassment of not living up to those false expectations, you sheathe your blade. Is that it, Yuheng of the Qixing?” 

Usually, she turned the other cheek when it came to slander over her name—it was also a waste of time and energy to even consider those lies—but today, she would not stand for it. Bad habit took hold of her and she said: “That you go so far to speak such callous words to get a rise out of me—is it because you are afraid of my potential that you wish to test me so badly? Of my strength? Because I am a human?” 

“When Rex Lapis stepped down, it was His wish that if the humans proved themselves to be able to protect Liyue without Him, that we adeptus may also step down from that duty as well. Do not feel slighted, Yuheng. One remembers how you and the other Qixing dealt with the sea-gods of yore. But you are only one of thousands. A single bright star amongst the multitude of humans. As representative of your collectiveness, Yuheng, if you are not willing to prove your strength, how would one feel assured that the decision of our Lord was well invested?” 

Keqing furrowed her brows. “And you think a simple rock-cutting will be enough to dispel those doubts?” 

“A trial is not just a singular task, but one of many,” Mountain Shaper intoned gravely. “The events of today are simply a stepping stone in that journey. But if you cannot—or choose not to—overcome today’s trials, what does that say about your willingness to partake in even more challenging ones? You might consider this task to be inconsequential, but as a stalwart guardian of Liyue since ancient times… It is a measure of your dedication to your craft and to your country.” 

What a load of crap! 

Keqing sighed. This guy sure was persistent. Still, the solemnity in his voice gave her pause. 

Did he mean it? In a strange, roundabout way, was Mountain Shaper giving her a chance to prove herself? His words seemed sincere. 

She knew that Cloud Retainer also held lingering doubts about leaving Liyue in human hands. It was unlikely, but should they fail, the adepti might intervene. Tensions might have eased since Rex Lapis’ departure, but didn’t that mean that Keqing should also do her part to clear up any doubts they might have anyway, no matter how trivial? 

In this situation, if her words were not reaching him, then her actions might speak louder than his doubts.

A nudge at her back.

Moon Carver had approached from behind and prodded at her with his snout. In his jaws was a brilliant sword made of jade. 

“He wants you to take it,” Shenhe said. “He thinks that you are deserving of it.” 

She brandished her own sword again, one forged by mortal hands. She glided her fingers over the lion’s head then over the length of her cool steel, breathing new life into it with a current of Electro. “There is no need. This one will do.” 

“You think such a thing, made by a mere human, can challenge the one constructed by the gods?” Mountain Shaper asked.

Keqing readied her stance. “Not just challenge it but surpass it!” 

She flash-stepped forward and—she lunged!

Like a streak of lightning she darted to and fro; like a clap of thunder her sword lashed out. Each strike whittled at the rocks but not in a frenetic frenzy. No, each strike was a calculated one, controlled and precise. The intention was not to break and destroy, but to carve out her intentions so there would be nary a doubt in the minds of whomever set their eyes upon it. 

Suddenly, Keqing was high in the air, suspended in a momentary lapse of free-fall, before she crashed upon the largest of the boulders. As expected, it was the densest and hardest out of them all and Keqing had to both tighten her grip on the hilt and relax her wrist when the stone repelled her sword at first strike. Her body tremored from the reverb of the impact. She twisted in the air to land back on the ground before launching herself upwards into the sky again. 

She needed to be faster. With only her sword, she needed more energy; more heat; more force; more strength to cut.

At her fingertips, she condensed the energy of the crackling Electro and diverted it to her blade. 

Do not be careless; be precise with your strikes!

With a vengeance, she slashed and cleaved and mercilessly carved her intentions into stone. Every inch, up and down, she made herself known. 

When she finally touched back down onto earth, Keqing staggered forward from the weight of her sword. She gasped shallow breaths of air from her exertion and waved at the air to rid the dust floating by her face. It had been a long time since she last tried something like that; she forgot what dusty work it was. “So? How was that?” She coughed, each word a heave for air. 

Mountain Shaper came closer, slowly, as he inspected the stones left in the Driving Thunder’s wake. Just like the first, each one gleamed brightly, their surface so smooth and shiny it was like the polished glass of a mirror. 

The last one stood the grandest. 

Shenhe wiped her hand over the dust-covered surface to reveal their reflections staring right back. Mountain Shaper stared at himself on the final mirror-stone, which unlike the rest, was meticulously carved out like a grand monument—full of ornamental imagery of ancient Liyuean icons and architecture etched along the sides of the large flat center.

In the stone’s reflection, he also saw the Yuheng of the Qixing, still out of breath but standing tall and proud. 

“Yes,” he said, never taking his eyes off Keqing’s reflection, “I like this one.” 

Keqing could not help herself from beaming. The embellishment was an impromptu idea, but she liked it. Look! She even added a majestic sculpture of Rex Lapis on top! Why not give it some extra oomph. It was about time she put her internship experience in stonemasonry to good use.

Cheekily, Keqing added: “As you should.” 

He gave another nod of finality. “Shenhe.” 

The taller woman came towards him. “Yes.” 

“This is the one.”

“You like it?”

“Bring it along.” 

“As you wish.” 

Dumbfounded, Keqing watched as Shenhe hefted the large monument above her head. And of all things—Shenhe and Mountain Shaper started to walk away?! 

“Hey!” Keqing yelled. “Hello? Where are you going?” 

“We are returning back to one’s abode,” Mountain Shaper answered. 

“I—Well, I can see that! And?”  

“What is it, Yuheng?”

“Did I pass? The trial?”

Mountain Shaper hummed in delight. “Indeed you have. One did not expect that you might craft such an intricate sculpture, but it is a very fine thing. One looks forward to having it placed on display.” 

Keqing gaped blankly at him. 

“This monument will be a great centerpiece for one's abode.” 

“A c-center…” 

“Hmph! Cloud Retainer thinks that she can beat one in a contest of abode decor when all she has is floating pedestals! Absurd, that one is!”

“D-decor…” 

“I acknowledge you, Yuheng Keqing!” He boomed. “Your swordsmanship, your craftsmanship! You have an artisanal talent that might rival one’s own! From this day forth, one will have no qualms about your abilities. The stone steps leading up to one’s entrance to the abode have become weathered over the long years and one would like a professional to prepare new ones.”

Stupefied, Keqing mutely dropped her sword. It fell with a noisy clatter.

“Next time, I will have you chisel out more sculptures of our Lord Rex Lapis but out of amber. One does look forward to your assistance when that day comes.”

Shenhe also looked back at Keqing, who wobbled unsteadily on her feet. “Do not worry, Lady Yuheng. I will tell Ganyu that you worked very hard. I am sure she will be glad to hear.” 

Then they left. 

Silence. 

More silence.

Well, to be fair: Mountain Shaper never stated why he wanted her to chop up some rocks in the first place.

Moon Carver prodded Keqing with his snout again. When there was no answer, he gave a little huff. Gently, he placed the Jade Cutter down next to the Lion’s Roar. He stamped one hoof firmly on the ground and with a blur of adeptal power, Keqing teleported onto his back, eyes still glazed over in the direction that Shenhe and Mountain Shaper had gone and the forgotten bundle of qingxin on her lap. 

Cloud Retainer’s damasked device twirled in the air in a moment of confusion when its temporary owner disappeared and reappeared on top of Moon Carver. 

“Yuheng, it is getting late. One will escort you home.” 

Keqing wordlessly mouthed a tiny “okay” where she sat. 

“Hold on tightly. One will not be responsible if you fall.”

Hands lightly gripped at his fur. Another small croak. “...Okay.”

“And close your mouth lest the insects fly in.” 

Keqing’s jaw slowly closed shut, like a drawbridge being raised over a moat. Moon Carver gathered both swords into his mouth.

And off he galloped into the sunset. 

Chapter Text

The days following her return were as normal, sans the initial goading from Ningguang, who did not hesitate to chide Keqing about her late night “escort”. 

“I always knew that you were into those types,” Ningguang had drawled with an amused curve to her lips. She specifically came down from her lofty Jade Chamber for this one reason, Keqing knew. “A little soft spoken but speaks firmly as needed; ever patient despite your episodes of impatience; always willing to help, even if you don’t ask for it.” Her lips grew even more sly. “Has a pair of horns.” 

Ningguang was promptly kicked out of Keqing’s office. Her light dainty chuckle, while muffled, could still be heard despite Keqing slamming the door on her. 

Of course Ningguang saw her with Moon Carver, for the Tianquan had eyes everywhere. Worst of all, she was exceptionally good at getting under Keqing’s skin. 

Ganyu had infiltrated Keqing’s train of thought more often these days. Even stranger was that Keqing even indulged in the certain (very mild! Not at all improper!) fantasies. Each time she did entertain the intrusive thoughts, she suppressed the bubbling rise of emotion that came with it; Keqing did not like to be caught daydreaming. Especially by Ningguang. Infuriating, that woman could be. 

Still, it did not stop her from stealing glances at the Qixing secretary for any signs of illness. Cloud Retainer may have tipped off that something might be amiss but that did not mean that Keqing was free to inquire about it without regard to Ganyu’s privacy. So she kept the mental notes to herself: the way that Ganyu’s face seemed to redden slightly when their eyes met for too long; how she sidled close to Keqing’s side as if she was seeking her warmth; and a recent development: it appeared that Ganyu had taken a liking to holding hands while they were out perusing the marketplace. Keqing did not think much about that particular one. It can be easy to be swept away with the crowd and it was much safer if they kept close. 

Today, too, was the day that they set aside in advance to peruse the night market together. Unfortunately, something had come up.

Ganyu, who had mentioned that there were several items left on her desk that still needed attention, changed plans in order to stay for overtime and that came with a deluge of apologies. When Keqing offered to help, Ganyu politely refused.

“You’ve just come back after your expedition. You should rest,” she had told her, but at this point, more than a week had passed and they still haven’t found the opportunity to sit down and chat. “Tell you what—I’ll try my best to leave work on time tomorrow. We can have dinner together and you can tell me about your travels.”

A sound deal. In exchange, Keqing also promised to make sure that she won’t have overtime tomorrow as well. Besides, the bird contraption that was perpetually by Keqing’s side was garnering a number of stray wayward looks and Ganyu was extremely curious at how it came to be in Keqing’s possession. Her face went as white as a ghost the moment she saw a miniature Cloud Retainer hovering around Keqing.

So Keqing walked along the streets alone that night. The tantalizing smells and the lively chatter among the crowd of the night scene beckoned her to peek at every booth. A shame that Ganyu could not join her; the stall that made the best fried radish balls was open tonight and she knew Ganyu was very fond of them. 

“Lady Keqing!’

She whirled around. There was no one there. 

The voice called again. “Up here! Lady Keqing!”

Keqing  spied two figures on the higher floor at the Heyu Tea House. Yanfei waved to her, beckoning excitedly to the staircase. Amused, Keqing climbed up. 

“Sorry to call you up here! Are you busy?” Yanfei said. 

“Not really. I was about to find something to eat before heading home,” Keqing replied.

At the corner of her eye, she noticed Fan Er’ye, the current owner of the tea house, greeted her with a cautionary smile. Hm. She nodded back, bemused, and averted her attention towards the man already seated. “Mr. Zhongli.” 

“Lady Yuheng.” He smiled. “Are you done for the day?” 

“I am. Just passing by.”

Yanfei patted at an open seat and called over a server, who brought them a kettle of fragrant osthmanthus tea and a platter of rice crackers, tea cookies, and peanuts. “If you’re not in a rush, would you like to join us? There’s a new story that is going to be read tonight.” 

Keqing glanced at the stage. An older man was lighting candles for the next speaker. “Sure, since you seem so excited. I imagine that it has to be a good one.” 

“Yanfei told me that she worked with this storyteller to prepare for this evening’s show. I believe it is the legend of the adepti who fought with the Millelith in the Chasm,” Zhongli supplied. He pushed a small bowl of salted peanuts towards Keqing. 

“Yup!” Yanfei puffed her chest out proudly. “During my last visit to the Chasm, I uncovered a tale lost to time. I’m sure you are familiar with the long-lost yaksha that fell into madness before disappearing during the terrible battle at the Chasm?”

“Oh, that one.” The yaksha suddenly vanished hundreds of years ago without a trace. “What of it?” 

There was a flicker of emotion on Zhongli’s face while Yanfei spoke, one that reflected a multitude of things. Zhongli’s lips then curved into small, warm smile as he sipped at his hot tea. “One of the eldest and the strongest of the yaksha, he fought bravely to protect our lands. It was said that even after he succumbed to madness, his instinct to protect Liyue and Her people was so strong, it led him to aid the efforts against the calamity emerging the Chasm. Then he disappeared.”

“You sound familiar with his story already,” Keqing said. 

He sipped again. “Whenever I hear it, it is like listening about an old friend.” The storyteller on stage took his seat and began to greet the audience. “Would you like to hear a piece of it for yourself?”

Keqing took a fistful of nuts. “Why not.” 

.

.

.

Yanfei beamed with delight. “That was better than I could ever have hoped. You were right, this new guy’s not bad.” She bobbed her head towards Zhongli, who helped himself to another hot cup of tea. They were on their third kettle of tea and second bowl of peanuts—Zhongli continued to order refills during the show every time they ran out. 

“I’m glad you found him acceptable. He prides himself on his authentic direction of ancient Liyuen tales.” Zhongli explained during the show that Liu Su, the usual storyteller, was on a break and had a substitute fill in his spot until the next season. “There are embellishments, naturally, but I like his versions of previous stories and I quite liked the one that you and he made together. They are, hm, refreshing.”

“I’m curious as to how that came to be. Last time I checked, you were a law advisor and not a playwright,” Keqing said. 

“A number of things happened. By accident, really.” Yanfei proceeded to tell how she reunited with an old friend and the Traveler; finding Yelan and Xiao underground; their experiences of being trapped in the realm inside; how they came across the memories of the missing yaksha. 

Keqing commented: “It’s like all sorts of peculiar things tend to happen when the Traveler shows up.”

Yanfei sighed in relief. Zhongli, meanwhile, busied himself with pouring everyone yet another cup of tea. “I’m happy that they are friendly with Adeptus Xiao; not only would I never been able to complete that job for my client, but I probably wouldn’t have made it back to the city at all.” Thoughtfully, she added: “The Nameless Yaksha, who after all these years, the world finally remembered his name again. So that we may never again forget, I wanted to share the story of the Bosacius, Boyang, their comrades, and their sacrifices. Zhongli here was the one that recommended the new storyteller to me.” 

“Xiao is very devoted to his role as Liyue’s guardian.” There was a mysterious glimmer in Zhongli’s eyes. He absently nursed his tea cup, his expression solemn. “We are very blessed to still have him with us. I am sure that learning about the fate of his brother-in-arms provided a degree of closure for him.”

They all shared a synchronized hum of agreement and lifted their cups in the air—a toast for the long-lost souls. Keqing nodded her head faintly, not noticing how the bird-contraption mimicked her with a bob of its own. 

Yanfei did a sideways glance towards the register. Abruptly, she stood up. 

“Well, it’s a fun one tonight,” she said. “For Lady Keqing to join us on the opening night of the story of the Forgotten Yaksha, it has been my honor.” 

“It’s my honor that you invited me out this evening. I had a wonderful time,” Keqing replied. 

Yanfei grinned. “We should do this again. I won’t be directing any more stories but going out with pleasant company always makes my day.” 

Zhongli raised his arm to signal to a nearby server, who caught his eye and signaled back with a nod, before returning his attention to the line of patrons at the register instead. As he did so, Keqing reached into her pocket to pull out her wallet, but Zhongli held out a steady hand.

“You need not pay for your share. Please, allow me,” he said.

“It’s not that big a deal, nor is the price of a cup of tea. I can pay.” 

He shook his head. “Lady Keqing, let me take this. In fact, as soon as Miss Yanfei told me about her involvement with tonight’s readings, I offered to pay for the venue because I was so eager to see it. You came to sit with us at the table, therefore, your share is also mine to take care of.”

“It’s true,” Yanfei chirped, and smiled gratefully at Zhongli. “I, for one, appreciate it. Feels good to be treated out like this once in a while, yeah? Don’t stress out about it, Lady Keqing. Consider it, oh, like your welcoming back party. I heard from Ganyu that you’ve been away from the Harbor for a while.” 

Keqing popped a peanut into her mouth. “Since the Chasm reopened, I have to go over there to check on it more often than before.”

“You were gone for longer than expected this time, or at least, that’s what Ganyu said.” 

Her journey to the Chasm wasn’t supposed to be a long one. Rather, it was out of Keqing’s own volition to go off the map for a while. “I submitted my forms with the correct dates and returned right on time. I was gone as expected.”

“Oh, my dear Yuheng.” Yanfei sighed wearily and shook her head. A quirk of a smile was still dancing on her face though. “Well, they do say that distance makes the heart grow fonder.” 

“Do you have something to say, Yanfei?” 

“Have I ever told you that I have a close acquaintance in Mondstadt?” 

Keqing raised a brow. “You have. You exchange letters with a knight.” 

“Mhm! I like to keep tabs on her, as well as some previous clients, old friends. Y’know, like the one I mentioned just now too—Shinobu from Inazuma.” 

“Okay. And?” 

“Mr. Zhongli also has a faraway acquaintance. Don’t you?” Yanfei winked. 

“That is correct. Likewise, we also keep in correspondence. But there is no feeling greater than seeing them in person again after being away from each other, no matter the time or distance. To be kept waiting until that day… It can be hard for the heart.” Zhongli mused. He smiled fondly at Keqing. “Is there someone like that for you, Lady Keqing?” 

She rubbed the back of her head. 

Because there was someone in particular that did come into mind… 

It would be nice if that person felt the same. 

Keqing sighed. 

Then Yanfei said: “Look at us—it’s not even the weekend yet and we’re sitting here together like lonely, hankering, old drunks in a bar.” 

“Our drinks are sober, Miss Yanfei,” Zhongli said. 

“We can be drunk off the atmosphere.” 

“Well—I, for one, am not hankering,” Keqing quibbled, only to be met with dubious looks by her tablemates. “I’m not!” 

“We didn’t say anything!” Yanfei laughed. “Anyway, I need to get going, but again—I really appreciate you two.” She stepped away but not without tapping Keqing on the shoulder. She leaned by her ear to whisper: “Good luck to you. And thanks in advance.” 

Keqing did not have the chance to reply as the law advisor quickly shuffled away.

The party of three became a party of two. 

“I suppose we shouldn’t linger for much longer either,” Keqing said, noting how the stage hands were already cleaning up the floor. Keqing still felt the need to stick around; she knew very well of Zhongli’s financial habits and could not completely shake off her worry. Especially not after Yanfei’s words. “I’ll be with you until everything is settled.” 

“You are very considerate, my lady,” Zhongli said. “I do not want to keep you if there is a place you need to be.” 

“It’s the least I can do.” 

He laughed. “What is it? Are you worried about me?” 

“Maybe a little,” Keqing admitted.

“Your concern is appreciated. You remind me of the director in that regard. Recently, she taught me something new to help me during my outings, in case I run into trouble.”

Keqing’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” 

The server finally came to the table. He placed a small tray with a receipt down. “Your bill.”

In a confident voice, Zhongli said: “My good sir, please put it on my tab.”

“Of course.” And the server picked up the still empty tray and returned to the register.

Zhongli smiled at Keqing in a manner that reminded her of a dog who just did a trick and was now expecting praise. Not quite understanding what Zhongli wanted her to respond next, she asked: “Was that the trick that Director Tao taught you?” 

“Yes. She said that I may use it to avoid being berated all the time. So far, it has been working out very well.” 

Keqing glanced at the register again. The server who came by their table earlier was now speaking to the manager, Fan Er’ye. “Y-you do know what that means, right?”

“Yes,” Zhongli said again. “The director told me it is meant to put off payment until another time. She was worried, as you were, about me and how often I forget my mora.” He said fondly as if remembering a personal conversation with Hu Tao. 

The men on the counter were flipping through what looked to be a receipt book. “And have you been paying your debts off?” 

“Debts?” The obvious confusion on his face confirmed Keqing’s growing suspicions. “The bill is to be paid later, yes? This is not a debt, as mora was not loaned or borrowed, but a deferment. As it stands, I have already used the entirety of my paycheck for this month, thus the use of my tab tonight.” 

“Deferment?” Keqing’s eyes widened wide with shock. Then she lowered her voice into a harsh whisper. “And what do you mean you’ve already used up your paycheck? It’s barely the first week of the month. You should’ve gotten paid a few days ago!”

“Ah, yes. See—I placed an item on preorder several months ago. Someone was selling a hand-painted lacquerware of Rex Lapis. Curious? I picked it up from its traveling merchant that sailed from Inazuma the other day. Its expression is quite fearsome; the salesman mentioned that this depiction of Rex Lapis was based off the stories of the Archon War, where He was known as the war-god that decimated His foes to win the Seat of the Seven—”

“Okay!” Keqing exclaimed. “Okay, okay! I got it! I’ll listen to you later but for now, what I need to know is how is that relevant to you not having mora this month.” 

“When I placed my order, I put in the deposit initially. When it was time to receive it, I paid for the rest.”

“Certainly the remaining amount could not be the same as your paycheck?” 

He chuckled, as if the whole situation was simply funny to him. The audacity of this man! “It seemed that I had mistaken the price when the merchant was telling me about the lacquerware. Instead of it being twenty thousand mora, it was two hundred thousand. There was an extra zero at the end of it! I asked the merchant if there was an error, but he reassured me that it had always been that price. I must have overlooked it. How foolish of me.”

“You’re insane,” Keqing gasped. 

“I needed to dip into my savings to complete the transaction. It would be improper to deny payment to the merchant after all this time, no?” 

“Insane.”

Zhongli went on. “To answer your question: yes. After I completed my purchase, I had ran out of mora until my next pay cycle. The manager has graciously continued my deferment for some time now.”

Keqing opened mouth to retort but Fan Er’ye—oh, what she feared the most!—arrived at their table, receipt book in hand. He made firm eye contact with Keqing that could only mean that she was now dragged into this too. “Dearest patron and fellow enjoyer of the arts, I hope that you found tonight’s performance well.”

Zhongli nodded. “Quite. It is always a pleasure to be here. Thank you.” 

“Your kind words are ever appreciated. My good sir, it seems that you have requested to have your fees for the night to be added to your current tab. Is that correct?”

“It is. I would’ve tipped the exceptional storyteller and your establishment but alas. I do not have the funds.” 

Fan Er’ye frowned. “My apologies, sir. But you’ve reached the limit. We cannot extend your tab any longer. You must pay for it in total tonight.” 

There was a mixture of surprise and bewilderment in Zhongli’s face that made Keqing want to bang her head against the table. “Oh, I am actually out of mora at the moment.” 

“I’m sorry, but I really must collect your payment. You are one of our most loyal and esteemed patrons, so we have tried to be accommodating. Alas, we still must adhere to our establishment policy.”

Zhongli raised his hand under his chin, as if in thought. Then: “May you put it towards the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s tab instead?”

“No. No, no. Wait,” Keqing interjected. “You can’t add your personal expenses to your workplace’s tab.” 

Fan Er’ye handed Zhongli a new invoice. “It’s true. We cannot transfer over balances. But please, sir, we ask that you repay the amount listed in its entirety before you leave. When you are ready, please meet me at the register.” 

Keqing took a peek, only to cover her mouth when a shocked gasp escaped.

That much? For storytelling and tea and peanuts? How often did Zhongli come here? 

Absently, Zhongli’s thumb rubbed at his bottom lip. He hummed, thinking, then he reached into the inner pockets of his jacket to reveal a large, but limp coin purse. He tugged the drawstrings open and rummaged around. “Unfortunately, I have even used up Childe’s additional spending funds as well.”

“Childe?” Keqing furrowed her brows. “Childe. Tartaglia. Of the Fatui? The Harbinger?” 

“We are well-acquainted.”

She gasped. “You are using dirty mora!”

“The mora is earned and deposited into his account in earnest, and then shared with me. Not to worry, he has a legitimate job.”

“As an enemy to our state!” 

“I can assure you that he will not be meddling in our affairs anymore. There is a contract in place that both parties must follow.”

Keqing glowered. “I have not heard such contract.” 

“Of course you haven’t. The only other person who is aware is the Traveler, who had found out of its existence after the descension of Rex Lapis, but not of the terms. Those are highly confidential,” he said. 

“Mr. Zhongli,” Keqing lowered her voice into a dangerous growl, “are you suggesting you are involved in illicit international affairs with this man? Do I hear you admitting your true relations with him?”

To her surprise, a tint of rose colored his cheeks. By the gods! Zhongli’s smile grew fond and soft and oh my archons! “There is no affair nor is it illicit. We are consensual and committed.”

Keqing was glad that no one was by their table to see because her mouth dropped right to the floor. That—that was certainly not what she was expecting! At all! “What—no, I didn’t mean it like that!” 

“Oh. Was it not?” His features schooled themselves back into the same friendly expression as always. 

“It was not!” What in the world was this conversation? Keqing tried to speak, only for her to come up mute. Finally she groaned. “Do you know what it means to be entangled with the Fatui? If something were to happen, you are liable to become a prime suspect. The Millelith will have their eyes on you, the Qixing will have their eyes on you! Do you understand?” 

He nodded. “I understand. But I can assure you that there will be no harm coming to Liyue; the contract is as strict as it is absolute.”

“What is this contract anyway? Did he make it with you?” 

“I cannot divulge the details,” Zhongli stated firmly. “Yuheng Keqing of the Qixing, prod me if you must, but my silence is the only thing you will have from me.” 

A chill ran up her spine at the sound of her title. But Zhongli’s stubbornness astonished her—this could be a matter of national security! 

Zhongli extended a hand across the table, covering Keqing’s own hand gently. A beat, and Keqing realized it was meant to be a gesture of comfort. “I understand your concern and for that, I thank you. Liyue needs someone like you to watch over the nation.” 

Keqing swallowed. “I will have to report this. This may put you into an uncomfortable situation one day. You know that, yet you still took the risk.” 

“I did,” he replied coolly. He retracted his hand. “I have no qualms with that. Inform the rest of the legislation, if you need. I will not run nor hide should the day of judgment come to pass.”

“You are a man of integrity, so I do not have reason to doubt you but… this information makes things complicated. Do not think unkindly of me because of it.”

“I do not. Regardless, I will uphold my contract to its fullest. The other party knows that well,” Zhongli said. His eyes flashed cold and severe. “Should there be a breach in the terms, I will exact punishment. Personally. Accordingly. When I am done, the Qixing can handle what remains, should there be anything left.” 

The harshness of his voice shot another cold wave down Keqing’s spine. She tempered her glare and exhaled a slow, deep breath. “Alright then.”

“You have my gratitude.”

“Do not thank me, there is nothing to be grateful for,” Keqing replied flatly. 

He shook his head and a familiar smile crossed his lips again. “On the contrary, the feeling in my chest is full of gratitude. Your dedication to your country is admirable. I am deeply comforted, knowing that you are here.”

Heat crept up her neck and Keqing had to fake a cough into her hand to distract herself. “I… That’s, ugh, whatever. Let us set this issue aside for the time being,” She impatiently tapped at the invoice still on the table with a finger. “What are you going to do about this?” 

“Ah.”

“You said you have a savings account. Can you go to the bank and withdraw from it? The side window is still open at night for simple transactions. I can hold the fort until you return.” 

“I cannot.” 

“Why?” Keqing asked through clenched teeth.

“Because I do not have any more savings. I used the rest for tea and groceries yesterday,” Zhongli said simply. 

“How in the world are you surviving on your own, as a grown adult, by being so financially irresponsible?” Keqing gasped in slow-creeping shock. 

He did not answer, really. He only chuckled as if Keqing had said something funny. 

“How about this then?” He laced his fingers together and relaxed into his chair. “I can withdraw from Childe’s bank account instead. He will not mind; the amount is insignificant to him.” 

Keqing was quick to object. “You are not using dirty mora for this pristine establishment.” 

“As I mentioned, it comes from a legitimate employer—”

Keqing glared knives at him and he stopped short. So he rectified: “I, in fact, do not have any mora to my name.”

“Yes, so it seems.”

“Therefore, I cannot repay my tab.”

Keqing heaved a great breath of a sigh. “Yes, I can see that.” 

“We are in quite the pickle, Lady Yuheng.”

We? There is no ‘we’. This is a ‘you’ problem. 

But then she remembered the stern look that the manager gave her. The firm eye contact that said: “I know who you are and I hope you know who you are sitting with”.

Zhongli was a frequent customer here, so Fan Er’ye must have already known this might happen. In the back of her head, she also was aware of the possibility too. Zhongli did not have a good street cred. She knew this, but she still sat down at the table.

Her lips pulled into a tight line. 

Come to think of it, this outcome was probably why Yanfei ditched so quickly too.

Her grimace deepened even more. 

This was now a ‘we’ problem.

Keqing buried her face into her hands with a groan.

“Lady Yuheng. Might I ask for a favor?”

She knew where this was going. “No, you may not.”

Despite that, Zhongli nodded understandingly. “Alright.”

“Give me the bill.”

He slid the receipt towards her. The bird contraption landed on the table the same moment as Keqing rose from her chair. 

As Keqing went to the register, Zhongli patted the little bird on the top of the head. 

“She’s a good one, isn’t she?” 

The bird stared blankly at him then bumped its head into his palm.

When Keqing returned, she heaved a long suffering sigh and deflated into her chair. 

“Once again, you have my gratitude, Lady Keqing,” Zhongli said, watching as the bird flew up to the top of her head and remained there. He tried to give it another friendly pat, but this time the bird tried to nip at his fingertips instead. He chuckled. “When my next paycheck from the funeral parlor is deposited, I will be sure to pay you back in full. In addition, I will take you out for lunch. My treat.” 

“...Make it an order of golden shrimp balls from Wanmin.”

“Certainly.”

“And you will do two things for me in exchange. First, allow me to count your mora before we go on our way so we both know if you can afford a meal for two.” 

“Of course.”

“Second, you will listen to me lecture you about how to properly budget your finances. I never want to hear this happening again. Agreed?” 

“That the Yuheng might take time out of her busy schedule to teach me—how considerate you are,” Zhongli said. 

“One more thing.” Keqing sat up in her chair. “About earlier.”

“Hm?” 

“Your contract with the Fatui, no, I-I mean, with… Childe. I have something to ask.”

“As long as you know that I cannot say much.” 

Keqing scooted closer to Zhongli and glanced at his hand. Zhongli wore rings—had he always wore rings? She didn’t remember. She really did not remember! 

Meanwhile Zhongli continued to smile patiently at her. She sighed again. “I know. I won’t press you anymore after this. Since I was able to stew on it—and you do not need to answer this either—but um. Archons, uh, are you and him… engaged?”

Zhongli repeated. “Engaged?”

A rush of heat flooded Keqing’s face. She cleared her throat in hopes to dispel it, but it was in vain. “Y’know, like, together. In a serious relationship. As a… y’know.” 

Zhongli blinked, because to be engaged could mean several different things. As a logical person, his mind followed the most logical line of reasoning. The nuance, of course, was lost on him. Because Zhongli, the retired Lord of Contracts, was an illogical person at some of the simplest of things. 

To be engaged in something, if one were to follow the previous lines of conversation leading up to this point, might refer to his binding, forbidden contract that could determine the fate of the world. The contract to end all contracts.

The original signers were, in actuality, Morax of Liyue and the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya. Childe—Tartaglia of the Fatui Harbingers took his orders from the Cryo Archon, therefore, worked within the lines of the contract. And yes, serious their relationship was. There was no denying the depth of either Zhongli’s or Childe’s feelings. In that case, did that not make them ‘engaged’, so to speak, with one another by indirect extension? 

That was Zhongli’s line of thought. Perfectly correct and utterly not. 

Finally, he nodded. “We are.”

Keqing nearly fell out of her chair. 

Thus another misunderstanding was made.

Chapter Text

There was a fluttering in her belly that started since she returned home from having tea with Yanfei and Zhongli. 

Most certainly it was nothing that she ate or drank. But the jittering was so distracting that Keqing could not sleep that night. To preoccupy herself, she instead took the Jade Cutter to a raw piece of noctilucous jade that she picked up when she was at the Chasm and whittled away at it until it was a tiny, glimmering stone. She was pleased with the results, so pleased that she even thought it might be worthy enough to be made into a modest ring. 

So that was what she did—handed it off to Xingxi at Mingxing Jewelry bright and early the next morning to mount the stone onto a band for an actual one.

At the time, Xingxi gave her an amused expression and said: “To think that the Yuheng might ask to make a custom-made ring. I hope the lucky lady you present it to likes it.”

Just as Keqing was about to retort there was no such person, a fleeting memory of a certain half qilin adeptus came into mind. Her momentary pause made Xingxi’s cheshire grin grow more smug. Xingxi then laughed. “Rest assured, my lady; I am certain that the one that you fancy considers you in the same way.”

Keqing wasn’t sure what to make of that either.

Before she bid Xingxi farewell, Xingxi made her promise to go out for tea later, once Keqing gave the ring away to its intended recipient. 

There was no recipient, Keqing futilely argued but it felt like the more that she refuted it, the more clearly Ganyu continued to flash in her head. 

Again, Xingxi smirked. “I want to hear all about it, over a nice hot cup of tea.” 

Keqing sighed.

More tea. First with Zhongli and Yanfei, now Xingxi. Then later, Yelan—if she could manage to sit her down at a table one of these days. Ningguang mentioned that Yelan was back in the Yanshang Teahouse for the time being. Besides the usual information about the Chasm, Keqing was very curious to hear her side of the adventures with Yanfei and their motley crew. 

Keqing beelined towards the pavilion when the butterflies in her stomach intensified, thanks to Xingxi’s teasing. Unfortunately, the unusual buzzing became progressively throughout the day. By the end of her shift, she started to consider scheduling an appointment by Bubu Pharmacy to have the doctor check it out.

She and Ganyu went Wanmin that night, seated in a cozy little corner of the restaurant that was sectioned off by a bamboo folding screen and near to the back door exit. It was not very scenic—Xiangling apologized for that—but it offered a level of privacy that Keqing liked. Wanmin Restaurant was a public space and while no one bothered her when she was off-hours, being away from prying eyes was a much-appreciated comfort. 

In hindsight though, it might be a bit too conspicuous if someone did find her and Ganyu sequestered away like that—the rumor mills in Liyue never stopped and they spun fast. 

Ganyu seemed uneasy at first. Her gaze kept flitting back and forth from Keqing, their food, and the bird contraption that looked oddly like Cloud Retainer. The bird-device was strangely still too, perched on Keqing’s shoulder and not hovering over her like usual since they entered the establishment. Despite that, Ganyu didn’t ask any questions regarding it, much to Keqing’s surprise. 

It was going to be a strange conversation when they finally were going to have it. So they danced around it and by the time that Xiangling rounded back to their table with their food, Ganyu was so good at pretending that the bird was not there that she finally managed to relax. 

For most of the evening, conversation was mostly about what happened during Keqing’s absence. 

Yaoyao actually managed to sneak on board the Alcor and it took two full days for Beidou to return back to the Harbor after realizing there was a stowaway. Ganyu gave a stern scolding to Yaoyao while Ningguang gave the same to Beidou, who simply shrugged her shoulders at the Tianquan and set sail immediately after. 

A missive from the head priestess of the Grand Narukami Shrine arrived at Ganyu’s mailbox too. Now that Inazuma reopened its borders, the priestess expressed interest in visiting Liyue, half for a personal vacation and half for official business. The nature of said business, Yae Miko did not mention nor did she mention a date, but Ganyu surmised it was more related to her side gig as owner to a publishing company rather than Inazuma politics. 

“A vacation, huh.” Keqing ate another golden shrimp ball. Her stomach roiled uncomfortably and she knew that it was definitely not because of the food. “I think you’re overdue for one as well. When was the last time you took time off?” 

“Since the last Lantern Rite, I believe. If I were to go on leave again, I suppose I can make another trip to the Wangshu Inn.”

“The inn? What, is that one of your prime destination spots? You seem to like going there.” 

“Verr Goldet and her husband have always treated me with the best hospitality and they usually have much to share.” A nod to their more discreet role as informants for the Qixing. “The food is quite good too.” 

“Oh, yes. I was there with Xiangling before,” Keqing said. 

“The beds are exquisite. I can just feel my stress melt away when I sleep on them,” Ganyu sighed dreamily. 

Keqing hummed. “If you put it like that, maybe the next time you go over there, I’ll tag along. You can personally show me how good those beds really feel, hm?” 

Behind them, Xiangling tripped and dropped her plates and Chef Mao let out a loud wheeze of a laugh. 

“Oh! Um. I-If you’re okay with me.” Ganyu twiddled her thumbs before she looked back at Keqing with a determined expression on her face. “I will take care of you.” 

“Please do,” Keqing said, spying Xiangling peeking at them around the folding screen with a broom and dustpan in hand. She mouthed an impressed “wow” to herself. Keqing paid her no mind. 

Ganyu nibbled at her bottom lip, as if debating something back and forth in her head; for the most fleeting of moments, Keqing had the strongest urge to nibble at it too.

Keqing loudly cleared her throat. Across the table, Ganyu jumped slightly at the sound. A chunk of tofu fell out of Ganyu’s spoon and landed back in her bowl of jewelry soup with a plop!

Bad thoughts, bad thoughts! 

But, actually—

No, no! Bad thoughts!

Keqing swept the invasive idea away; they were becoming increasingly bold over the course of the day. 

“Keqing.”

She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah?” 

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yes, I’m fine. I think I might’ve swallowed that down the wrong pipe.” 

Ganyu was staring directly at her now. Keqing could feel sweat beginning to condense above her brow.

Keqing blew at her own spoonful of soup—because my, what a steaming hot bowl of soup it was!—while Ganyu asked: “Are you sure?” 

Beneath the table, Keqing’s fingers fiddled with the velvet ring box in her pockets; Xingxi pulled some strings to have it done by the time Keqing was finished with work that same day.  

She could give it to Ganyu. Why not? It was a pretty light blue, in a shade that suited her very well. Keqing knew that, because that was secretly the reason that she picked it up from the Chasm in the first place. Because it reminded her of Ganyu. That was why she had the stone made into a ring. Because she secretly hoped that Ganyu might like it. 

But giving a ring to a girl was different than giving her flowers. Ganyu couldn’t eat it, for one. 

Keqing swallowed thickly. 

“I’m sure. Thanks.”

.

.

.

The rest of their dinner finished uneventfully. Xiangling ushered them out through the back door while holding back a snicker; apparently, she found it very amusing how Ganyu reached for Keqing’s hand once they were up from their seats. 

“Ganyu,” Xiangling chirped, “please watch over Keqing for me!” She gave a little nod at Keqing. “She’s a little, y’know, but she’s a good friend of mine and she means well.” 

Gouba too gave Ganyu a little pat of reassurance on her knee. Ganyu smiled, her cheeks rosy. “Of course.” 

“You too, Keqing! You need to treat Ganyu well! Don’t make her worry about you so much.”  

Keqing rolled her eyes, not sure what Xiangling was insinuating. Why was everyone saying that? “I won’t. I promise.” 

With that, Xiangling waved them off.

The night air was cool and pleasant. They weaved through the crowd, with Keqing holding tight to Ganyu’s hand as they walked. 

Ganyu’s house was located in a more secluded area, towards the outskirts of the Harbor. Keqing had once asked why she didn’t find somewhere closer to the pavilion, as it would cut down on her commute time, but Ganyu shook her head and smiled gently.

“I like taking my time to walk back and forth. It’s relaxing for me,” she had answered then.

As the two of them walked up the cobblestone path towards her house in a comfortable silence, hand-in-hand, Keqing was obliged to agree. The little bird silently hovered above Keqing’s head.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” 

It was such a quiet murmur that Keqing nearly didn’t catch it. 

Keqing didn’t know what kind of expression she was making but Ganyu’s frown seemed to deepen when she met her eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Keqing asked, giving Ganyu her full attention. The discomfort in her stomach increased. 

“Nothing is wrong, per se.” Her face was still colored pink. “Forgive me if I have the wrong idea, but I’ve noticed that you’ve been… um, staring.”

“Staring?” 

“Y-yes. At me.” A pause. “A lot.”

“Have I?“

“Ever since you returned from your expedition, you have.” 

That was true, though. Keqing couldn’t refute it. She could admit that out loud but that seemed a little too… much. Too direct? Once upon a time, Ningguang recommended that she tone it down a notch because apparently Keqing could be too direct, too honest and that ended up driving people away. Unfortunately for Ningguang, Keqing was nothing but an honest person. 

Besides, after all the observations that Keqing has made about Ganyu within the last few days, she was starting to draw a blank as to what Cloud Retainer planned to do with the damasked device and how it might relate to Ganyu. Perhaps this was the right time to be upfront with her true thoughts.

“I like looking at you.” 

Whoops. Wrong thought.

It slipped from her lips like spilling marbles out of one’s pockets. 

Ganyu spluttered and her face burst into crimson; Keqing could feel herself doing the same. Archons. 

“This is why—you are so…” Ganyu muttered under her breath, flustered yet again.

“I mean, I just, uh.” Keqing fumbled around for her words like marbles with the terrifyingly uncanny eloquence of a nervous child. There really was no graceful way to go about this, was there? “Wait, hold on, let me start over.” 

Ganyu mutely nodded, her face obviously flushed. 

Absently, Keqing’s fingers toyed with the ring box in her pocket. Equally as terrifying was the swell of other clumsy little thoughts that surged forth and threatened to burst forth out of her lips like a dam ready to collapse. And the palms of her hands—as revolting at it sounded—felt slightly moist under her gloves. Was she nervous? Why was she nervous?

If she tried to say something now, she was most definitely going to say something foolish. 

Keqing wasn’t really a believer in the gods, but oh archons, never did she want a divine intervention as strongly as she did right now. 

Very faintly, there was “whoosh!’ in the air and a flutter of wings.

She froze.

No.

No way.

“Yuheng!” 

…Maybe the gods do exist after all!

“Cloud Retainer!” Keqing did her best to ignore the crack in her voice. Ganyu, meanwhile, had gone pale with shock. “What brings you here to the city?”

Indeed, the crane adeptus landed at the top of the cobblestone staircase; just over yonder was Ganyu’s modest house. So close, and yet so far; Ganyu very silently cursed under breath.

Cloud Retainer boomed: “One had learned that the Yuheng had returned from her journey and one needed to speak to her.” 

Ganyu’s shifty eyes flitted between Cloud Retainer and Keqing. 

“Uh.” Keqing awkwardly cleared her throat. “Yes, I have been here for a while now. Haven't the others told you?”

“Others?” Ganyu whispered only Keqing to hear.

“Mountain Shaper and Moon Carver.” 

“What? When did you see them?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Keqing whispered back.

“The old coots have not. They have left to go off on their own again without telling one,” Cloud Retainer groused. “One has come to retrieve the damasked device.” 

“Already?” Keqing watched as the little bird flew towards Cloud Retainer. There was a small pang in her chest; while their time together was short, Keqing had to admit that she liked the company.

Speaking of which. “Does this mean that you’ve concluded your research?” Keqing asked. “Will you tell me why you wanted me to keep it with me now?” 

Ganyu nudged Keqing with her elbow. “Research?” 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

Beside her, Ganyu groaned. To reassure her, Keqing squeezed her hand. It seemed to be enough encouragement, for Ganyu gave her a reluctant smile in return. 

“One supposes one can,” Cloud Retainer hummed. “The Yuheng—one has realized during this experiment—is hard to track. Always moving, always traveling.” 

A wave of deja vu came across her. “It’s part of my job.” 

“One wanted to discuss more about the contraption that you and the Qixing gifted one from the previous Lantern Rite. The firework. One needed to procure a duplicate to use as reference to improve the damasked device’s special feature.” Keqing grimaced at that. Cloud Retainer continued. “One sought you out, only to find that you were either unavailable or off journeying. Ganyu, too, has mentioned more than once about how often the Yuheng was constantly gone on expeditions.”

Ganyu abruptly let go of Keqing’s hand. “I-I didn’t mean anything by that!” 

“I can see why that might be an inconvenience,” Keqing said, doing her best to ignore the immediate disappointment that washed over her like ice water when Ganyu let go. “But if you have any concerns while I am away, you can always leave a message with Ganyu and I can get back to you as soon as I return to my office.” 

“What if the matters require urgent attention? One does not like to be kept waiting.”

“If it really is that urgent, I trust that Ganyu will forward it to the next appropriate person who can handle it in my stead. I am sure that other members of the Qixing are more than qualified to assist you.”

“That will not suffice.” Cloud Retainer harrumphed. Her wings spread in a grand gesture. “Motivated by Ganyu’s complaints—”

“I was NOT complaining!”

“—One had decided to craft this device to track the Yuheng’s movements in order to learn about your habitual movement patterns.” 

“You…” Keqing gaped, “gave me a tracking device?” 

A part of her felt like she should feel offended. What did Cloud Retainer think she was? A migratory animal?

“Not only does it track your geographical location,” Cloud Retainer continued with rising excitement, “one has also included another feature—inspired by that explosive contraption. Hidden. Only to be revealed upon fulfilling a certain requirement. Do you recall?”

“Ah.” 

“Have you already seen it?”

The colorful confetti shooting out of its ass like explosive diarrhea? “Yeah, actually. I have.” 

“One didn’t think you would figure it out that quickly. As expected of the Yuheng.” Cloud Retainer nodded, as if she was very pleased. 

“What?” Poor Ganyu was left out of the loop. “What hidden feature?”

Keqing gave her a thin smile that read: I’ll tell you later. She turned back to Cloud Retainer. “Tell me; there aren't any other special features to this thing, are there?” 

“One is still experimenting with it but as soon as it is completed, one intends to modify the damasked device to include the ability to record messages. With a pair of them, long-distance communication may be possible.” 

Now that was interesting. Keqing asked: “You mean someone might be able to talk to someone else in a different region, say, like from here to Qingce Village? That’s incredible.”

“There was a passing mage that stumbled near one’s own abode last season. An eccentric, one might describe her as such. But she was a creative in her field and very skilled with making gadgets. She showed one a curious item—like a red sphere, but imbued with the ability to send and record messages as far as the other side of the ocean. The mage gave it a peculiar name: a dodoco.” Cloud Retainer paused for a moment, as if she was only now processing the bizarreness of that encounter. “Anyway, one was so impressed that one decided to attempt construction of one’s own design as well. The Yuheng has a prototype, though it is only capable of geographical tracking at the moment.”

“To be able to send messages over long distances without the need for travel,” Keqing repeated, amazed. “I wished you had told me in the first place.”

Having the technology to support transcontinental communication would be revolutionary. Letters sent by air and carried on the ground to Mondstadt took at least several days to be delivered. Even longer to other nations like Inazuma and Sumeru. What an advantage that could be, to the nation and for its citizens. If Keqing could learn how this technology worked, it would be game-changing to Liyue’s industry sector!

As Keqing continued that train of thought, Ganyu took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “Cloud Retainer, forgive me for not understanding, but why did you give this to Keqing? Should this technology fall into the wrong hands, it could put her safety in jeopardy.” 

Cloud Retainer cocked her head to the side, like she was surprised that Ganyu would say such a thing. Then she exclaimed: “Ah, yes. One forgot to give this to you.”

She revealed another strange device from her feathers—an inconspicuous scroll. When Ganyu unraveled it, a single glowing purple dot appeared on the blank page.

The bird contraption hovered over the scroll and there was a distinct sound that came from within its body, like a coil whine. The bird opened its beak and unlike the many times before where a soundless chirp emerged, a strange “beep!” came out instead.

It beeped again and flew back to Keqing’s side as if nothing had happened mere moments ago. “What was that?”

“The data transfer is complete,” Cloud Retainer said. “Tap the scroll again.” 

Ganyu did so and then even more glowing dots appeared on the scroll, connected by a thin red line. Then an actual map of Tevyat appeared. Keqing “oooh’d” softly to herself.  The original purple dot shined brighter than the rest.

Ganyu frowned. “I still don’t understand.” 

“The pinpoint represents one’s contraption. Since the Yuheng is in possession of it—the damasked device—you can also say that the pinpoint is the Yuheng’s location on the map,” Cloud Retainer explained. “It is so you may always keep track of the Yuheng while she is journeying. Each other point on the map are locations that Yuheng had visited and lingered during her travels.” 

Well, it was no wonder that she wanted Keqing to keep it with her all the time. Keqing peered at the scroll, noting how the topographical location of the dots were, hm, pin-point accurate. She traced a finger from the red line connecting the Chasm to the quarry that Mountain Shaper, Moon Carver, and Shenhe brought her to. From there, the red line cut through the valleys and mountains straight back to the Harbor; that must be the route that Moon Carver took when he was with Keqing. 

At last, Ganyu asked the golden question. “Why would I want this?”

“One had initially developed the project for you, Ganyu. The geographical tracker is simply one of the many features one has plans to implement.”

There was a wrinkle in Ganyu’s brow and huh, it was a rather cute look on her, Keqing thought for very brief moment, before she heard her utter: “For me?”

“One thought that you might like it. After all, you have said—many, many times before—that you wished you had such a device. However after following the Yuheng for several days—”

“You were following me?!” 

“—One now has concerns.” Cloud Retainer’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “Yuheng, explain yourself. One saw you... with other women!" 

Keqing blinked; she had no idea where this was going. "Because... I have to? Talk to other people?"

"One saw you chatting very animatedly with the shop owner of the jewelry store. You were very friendly. Too much. She even asked you out for tea.”

Keqing glanced at Ganyu, who was gaping at Cloud Retainer with mounting panic. “Xingxi is a good friend of mine.”

“Good friend, you say.” Suspicion ran deep in her voice.

“And I needed to ask a favor of her.” 

“Then what about this? You’ve also been trying to contact a mysterious woman at a suspicious teahouse. Who is it?”

“A mysterious—you mean Yelan?” Keqing frowned. How did she learn about that? “Yelan does work with Ningguang. She also came back from a mission in the Chasm and I wanted to talk to her about it.”

Cloud Retainer squinted at Keqing. “You were not involved in illicit relations with other women? You were not, so to speak, ‘having tea’ with them?”

Keqing was hit with another wave of deja vu, and then confusion again. Well, the Yanshang Teahouse wasn’t really a teahouse, but… “What?” 

“Is that not the euphemism that the humans use? Hm, one does not prefer to be crude, but very well. One will be blunt: Yuheng, you were not having sexual rendezvous with—”

“Okay!” Ganyu immediately cut in, her face aflame. “No more of that, please!”

“One only went through such lengths to verify the integrity of your relationship with the Yuheng. That is because the Yuheng always went out, you are always worried about her and her activities.” 

“I am very serious about my relationship,” Keqing retorted. She was a consummate professional after all; Xingxi and Yelan were good at their work and Keqing made very sure that their efforts were appreciated and rewarded adequately. “And the idiom you might be looking for is to ‘spill the tea’, or speak about gossip and rumor.”

Ganyu sighed. Keqing knew that one; it was the very rare sigh that signaled that Ganyu was reaching the limits of her patience. “Of course I worry. Keqing, you’re always going out for expeditions and for sometimes, long stretches of time. I worry because I care for your safety. I…” She looked at Keqing dead in the eye. “I care for you a lot.” 

It was like a sucker punch to the gut. “Oh.” 

It was true that Keqing often spent time traveling by herself, sometimes without prior notice to no one other than another Qixing member or her staff. She never considered how her absences might affect others, much less Ganyu, who in all technically was the one needed that information the most.

But hearing that Cloud Retainer produced such technology just for her and Ganyu to keep in contact with each other was somehow touching. To be able to contact her no matter the distance meant that Keqing could always be up to date on things that needed her attention or in case of emergencies. Was Ganyu always that concerned for her wellbeing? Keqing didn’t mean to cause undue worry. She should apologize for her carelessness as soon as possible. 

She glanced at Ganyu, whose face tinted red with the beginnings of a blush. Was she embarrassed?

Cloud Retainer said slowly: “You are only worried for the Yuheng’s wellbeing? Not of the Yuheng’s potentially adulterous behavior?” 

“I am NOT adulterous!” Keqing huffed, exasperated. “Besides, to be adulterous–which I am not—one would have to be in a romantic relationship with another first.” 

Cloud Retainer cocked her head to the side. “Aren’t you?” 

“What?” 

“In a relationship.”

“With who?”

“AHH!” Ganyu blushed a deep scarlet. Suddenly! She clapped her hands over Keqing’s ears. “CLOUD RETAINER!” 

“G-Ganyu!?” 

“You need not be embarrassed.” Keqing could slightly make out Cloud Retainer’s muffled voice. “It is only natural that you might be concerned of your significant other's gallivanting—”

"NO!" Keqing didn’t catch the next part because Ganyu screamed again and this time, Keqing was grateful that her ears were covered. “Y-you can’t say—I still… haven’t told her… CLOUD RETAINER!!” 

Cloud Retainer cocked her head slightly. “You haven’t told her?”

“No!”

“Then why did you say that you were together?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Cloud Retainer paused. “The others and oneself have already given the Yuheng our blessings of approval.”

“You were the one that jumped to conclusions first!” Ganyu exclaimed back.

“Hm.” Still perplexed, Cloud Retainer asked: “What is the problem, child? Why the delay?”   

Unintelligible stammering sounds came from Ganyu.

“The Yuheng is right here. Why, in fact, you can tell her right now!”

“You know I can’t! I’m not—I just...” 

“Say, Ganyu.” Keqing piped in, hoping to deescalate the situation. She raised her hands to pry Ganyu away, but Ganyu was practically glued onto her. “Her contraption isn’t so bad, yeah? If you ever wanted to know where I am while I’m out on an expedition, now you can—”

Cloud Retainer harrumphed loudly. “Well, if you do not care for it, one will take it back. One is curious about the humans’ gizmos and gadgets, and one finds the Yuheng an agreeable partner for conversation.”

Ganyu’s hands moved from Keqing’s ears to her waist to pull her close to her chest, and o-oh, that’s a nice feeling right there. “You can’t! I won’t allow it!” Keqing meanwhile let out an embarrassing little squeak at the suddenness.

They continued to bicker back and forth for a while, with Keqing helplessly trapped in the middle. 

At last, Cloud Retainer seemed like she had enough when she let out a long, suffering sigh—the same that a parent would to a stubborn child. “A pity. But one does wish that you do not drag this out much longer.” Never mind that it was Cloud Retainer herself that exposed everything herself. When she side-eyed Keqing, there was a sense of approval mixed with a healthy dose of apprehension. “If you don’t hurry along, you might miss your opportunity.”

This time, Ganyu did not say anything to retort. Her lips were drawn into a tight, thin line but her hold on Keqing loosened enough for Keqing to shimmy away for some breathing room. 

“Yuheng.” 

“Yes?” 

“One will collect the damasked device for now.” As she said so, the bird-contraption flew towards the crane adeptus. “One will continue to make revisions to this model. When it is done, one will find you again.” 

Keqing glanced at Ganyu, who was oddly silent now, then back to Cloud Retainer. “May I have you go through the proper procedure then? If you can tell me or Ganyu ahead of time, I can arrange a formal meeting to save you the trouble of tracking me down.” 

Surprisingly enough, Cloud Retainer nodded. “One will send Shenhe as messenger.” 

“I’ll procure another firework from the Ministry of Civil Affairs and send it to you as soon as I can,” Keqing added. 

“Very well.” Cloud Retainer stretched her wings. “One must be going then. It seems that one’s work here is done.” A swoop of giant wings later, and the adeptus disappeared into the night sky. 

Ganyu, meanwhile, crumpled to her knees at the top of the cobblestone stairs with a long groan.

Hesitating, Keqing asked: “Ganyu? You okay?” 

Another groan. She hid her face in her arms. “Keqing, please forget that. Everything. Forget it. Please.” 

“I don’t think I can,” Keqing said honestly. 

Now a half-groan, half-sob. 

Not knowing what to do, Keqing stood frozen in place. The tips of Ganyu’s ears burned bright red, a stark contrast to her soft blue hair. 

Keqing wanted to reach out to comfort her but stopped short, having drawn a blank. Ganyu, she knew, was beyond embarrassed, so what could she do to help her?

In times of great hardship such as this, reflectively, Keqing wondered: 

What would Rex Lapis do? 

A moment of silence passed as she considered the appropriate thing to do. 

What came to mind next bordered on absurdity. But the strangest of urges told her otherwise. 

Yes.

She did not need to think twice.

This is what Rex Lapis would do.

At last, she asked what felt like the right thing to say.

“Do you like rocks?” 

Ganyu lifted her head—her rosy cheeks wet, eyes still watery with unshed tears, and her expression full of confusion. “Huh?” 

Keqing knelt down on one knee to be at eye level with Ganyu. From her pockets, Keqing pulled out the ring box and opened it. “Forgive me, I only just received it earlier this evening and didn’t have time to make it more presentable.”

Ganyu went completely still, her wide eyes trained on the glimmering, beautifully polished blue-jade stone. 

“Clear your schedule next week. Send your leave request forms to me first thing in the morning and I’ll make sure that the rest of the Qixing signs off on it the same day,” Keqing continued. “I’ll do mine as well.”

Ganyu stared at her.

“I realized something, I think. It’s true that I like going on my expeditions; I like to be outside and I enjoy being on my own. But recently, I’ve been thinking that it might be nice to have company.”

Ganyu remained speechless. 

“You’re the only one that can keep pace with me. There’s no one else that can do what you do. You do so much, not only for me but for the rest of Liyue. You earned a vacation. And I owe you an apology. I didn’t think me leaving the city so often would cause you so much concern. I'm sorry. Let me make it right.” Keqing exhaled a steadying breath. “If you find it agreeable, I’d like to go with you. To the Wangshu Inn, to anywhere you like. Then after that— you can go with me on my next expedition, or any time I need to leave the Harbor for travel. If you’re interested.” 

“I-I… you…” Ganyu shook her head and Keqing felt her stomach twist and flop. “I mean, this is so sudden… Aren't we skipping a couple of steps?”

Keqing licked her lips, suddenly too conscious of how dry the inside of her mouth felt. “D-do you not want to go to the inn after all? We can go camping first instead? Or would you rather not go with…”

Ganyu blinked once and then a gentle smile split across her face. A tiny huff of a laugh escaped her. Without warning, she tugged Keqing into her arms, one hand resting between her shoulder blades.

Keqing felt her stomach uncomfortably flip-flop again and her chest was growing concerningly warm, but she was too startled to speak. 

“Lady Keqing.” Ganyu’s whisper was so very close to her ear. “How could someone be so brilliant and yet lack such a sense of self-awareness at the same time?” 

Keqing inhaled the scent of qingxin. “That’s—that’s rude.” 

Ganyu chuckled again. “Maybe. Though I think it’s a rather endearing side of you as well. It still hasn’t hit you yet, has it? What you just asked of me.”

She pulled away slowly, allowing her fingertips to graze over Keqing’s skin as she did so. Goosebumps freckled Keqing’s skin despite her body feeling like it was going to combust. 

“I’ll go. With you. Anywhere and everywhere.” Ganyu removed her glove. She slipped the ring on. “But you’ll have to deal with the consequences when we return.” 

They rose to their feet, with Ganyu leading the rest of the way to her house. Their hands loosely intertwined; Keqing opted to remove her gloves as well to better feel the band of the ring on Ganyu’s finger. A perfect fit.

When they arrived at the front of her door, Ganyu pulled her in for another embrace. “To answer your question…”

Before Keqing could say a word, Ganyu leaned in to grasp the collar of her shirt and kissed her.

Her lips were soft, Keqing duly noted. It sent off a flurry of sparks within her; reflexively, she parted her lips and Ganyu deepened the kiss, as if she was trying to convey a deluge of emotions that words could not so passionately express.

When they parted, Keqing felt herself burning up. Her heart stuttered and hammered wildly in her chest.

“Yes.” Ganyu said softly to her, not nearly as out of breath as Keqing was. The affection in her voice felt overwhelming for Keqing too. “I do like rocks. In fact, they remind me of you.” 

Keqing swallowed. “How… how so?”

Ganyu leaned her head on Keqing’s shoulder and her hand found Keqing’s again. 

She answered, fond and warm. “You’re as dense as one.”

Later that night, Keqing woke from her sleep in cold sweat after realizing that she might have inadvertently proposed to the Qixing general secretary. And that Ganyu had said yes.