Chapter Text
"You dabble in too many things," Xingqiu said, eerily similar to his older brother when he chided you. "One of these days you'll run into some trouble." Xingqiu swung his legs over the edge of the roof and tilted his head back to stare at the moon rising over Liyue.
"That's for me to worry about and for you to watch," you shrugged. "Should I go bankrupt or find myself stuck in a domain full of frogs, then you can laugh as you find help."
Xingqiu laughed. "I like frogs. Do you not? I think the way they jump around is cute."
In the cover of night, he was even more indistinguishable from his elder brother, the dark obscuring the mischievous light in his eyes. You could tell the difference, he was almost like a younger brother to you. Xingqiu carried himself in a far more carefree way than his brother ever would- you could tell which one was the heir to the Commerce Guild.
Despite his fairly elegant appearance, Xingqiu walked with a slight bounce in his step, and anyone who knew him would know that he had little to no interest in the affairs of the guild- he was the disciple of the Guhua clan, a bookworm obsessed with martial arts novels- under his pen name Zhenyu, he authored The Legend of Sword and spent his days running around Liyue with his friends. That wasn't to say he was a slacker, he just never did any more than what was asked of him.
His brother, on the other hand, was calm and responsible to anyone who had the pleasure to know him. He appeared in control of the situation always, but it was late at night, when all of Liyue Harbor went to sleep, where he would leave home and go out with the few people who got into his inner circle. Sometimes they would go on a short adventure, sometimes drink, or practice swordsmanship. This would go on until dawn, when light once again began to peek out from the horizon, and he would sigh, return, sleep for what time he could, wake, and regain his composure. That was also why when you had the time to see him around, he had bags around his eyes and appeared stressed. After one too many drinks, he would become louder, complaining endlessly about his responsibilities and whatever rude person he met.
They were both amusing, in different ways.
"I think your friend is cuter," You said slyly, ignoring the slight change in Xingqiu's face. "When are you two going out on another trip again?"
"Which friend? I'm really charming, I have tons," said Xingqiu airily, voice just a little higher.
"You know, the fun blue exorcist- Chongyun," You said. "The one who looks nervous all the time, wants to exorcise a spirit for real, kind of gullible. The one you spend the most time with. You know who I'm talking about."
Xingqiu waved his hand dismissively. "Right, Chongyun. I promised him I'd go with him to Wuwang Hill and look for some evil spirits tomorrow. What about you? Didn't you say you had a job or something to do? Someone in need of your lovely handwriting? Maybe someone wants to play a game of dice with you?"
"While those are some of my endless array of talents, no." You grinned. "I'm going over to Liuli Pavilion to play some music, and then maybe watch Ningguang's speech. Isn't she announcing something tomorrow? Any information on that from the Feiyun Commerce Guild, Xingqiu?"
He tilted his head, thinking. "Actually, yes, my liege. Turns out the Tianquan wants to rebuild the Jade Chamber. Maybe the announcement is for recruiting helpers. You should volunteer. You need money, and I'm sure all the workers will need someone to entertain them. Play the lyre, sing, maybe write all their names in pretty letters. Or, you could liven up the atmosphere and play some dice!" Xingqiu shrugged. "Possibilities are endless."
"Oh, you act like that's all I'm good for." You complained. "I'm quite resourceful. I've done my fair share of heavy work, adventuring, swordplay. You could think of me as a traveler! And if the Feiyun Commerce Guild happens to have some materials for building, you wouldn't mind letting me have some for a discount, right, friend?"
Xingqiu pretended to think about it. "Perhaps, perhaps. Depends on what else you can offer."
"Lessons to improve your handwriting, maybe?"
"That's playing dirty, my liege!"
"I merely jump on any opportunities I can take," You said nonchalantly. "You could use some help, my friend."
He crossed his arms. "Well, I'll deal with those problems when I have to. For now, there's not much to stress about- just chasing spirits and reading my novels."
"Ah right! That reminds me." You reached into your bag, tossing out a letter with an Inazuman seal. "Your brother found this in the mail, he told me to give it to you, saying you should have some privacy. Looks like it's from the publishing house you sent your novel too. What's the name again?"
"Yae Publishing House. And you have my gratitude." Xingqiu took the letter, turning it in his hands, watching the moonlight shine over the paper. "I'll read this later, hopefully it's good news."
You sighed. "I can't believe you could be earning more than me because of one book. What a terrible fate."
"If you think about it that way, even good handwriting can't save you."
...
You arrived to Liuli Pavilion at around noon, a few minutes before your shift would begin. You would have arrived earlier, but you had spent a long night out. After speaking with Xingqiu, you had visited the funeral parlor and had a chat with the eccentric director, and then gone to meet up with Xingqiu's brother and friends. It was only when the sun started to rise when you returned to the Yanshang Teahouse to spend the night in one of the rooms on the second floor.
Before the Yanshang Teahouse switched owners, you had lived at Wangshu Inn, often traveling back and forth from there, Qingce Village, and Liyue Harbor. Due to all the time spent in the wilderness, you were adept at camping and living off the land- there was no need for a place to stay. You just camped outside the harbor, or anywhere your heart wished.
After the old owner disappeared (a strange occurrence? People suspected it had to do with debt), the new owner, a mysterious woman who was often absent, took over and offered you a chance to perform, advertise, and do favors there in return for Mora, lodging, and some food. It was almost too good to be true, and you had accepted readily. During the day, you often played music and watched as the waitresses served tea, or whatever there was to order. Sometimes you went out after switching up your hair and clothes, acting like another customer, playing a few rounds to keep the patrons happy and ready to keep playing dice, and sometimes you traversed the streets of Liyue, subtly advertising Yanshang Teahouse- a nice place with a sort of ambiance you couldn't get from others, good odds for those interested in playing dice, incredible tea, and the like.
Despite all your work there, though, you barely saw the owner, and when you did, it was only in glimpses. She would enter, drink something maybe, and go into her office, which was locked most of the time, and work.
It was hard to even memorize her features. Short black hair, you were sure about. But what was she wearing again? Blue? Did she have earrings? You didn't know.
What a strange lady, was something you thought a lot while on shift.
But the room was warm and well-lit, the food was good, and the job paid enough to last you for a good amount of time. Though you did wonder- did the new owner have another motive for hiring you?
Despite your confident nature, you knew you weren't the best lyre player. You merely dabbled in many talents. Should the lady have done her research, she would have found at least fifteen candidates that played with far more finesse than you could hope for. So why you?
Flexibility, maybe, you thought. Try not to think too much of it. Let's just finish this job and get out, maybe buy something nice to eat.
You stepped into the restaurant with an easy smile and your lyre tucked in your right arm, surveying the people.
It was noon, and the restaurant was crowded, full of all kinds of people, but all of them looked like they were in at least the middle class of Liyue. Fine clothes and tables filled with food, you noted. There was good opportunity then- those kinds of people enjoyed all sorts of luxuries, even your just above average playing would be enough. The truth was, customers usually didn't care much for the actual music, just liked the feeling of appearing cultured.
"Good afternoon, lovely patrons!" You began cheerfully, running your fingers along the strings of your lyre. "I hope everything is to your liking, and if you don't mind, I'll begin my performance."
As predicted, most of the customers merely smiled, some children watched you curiously, but they all seemed to tune out in a few seconds as you began to pluck out the notes, making sure that there was a smile on your face. You were a hired professional, not some new performer showing their skills for the first time. If you didn't look nervous, no one else would see. You would get your paycheck.
A chill went down your back.
You faltered slightly, missing a note, and your smile dropped for just a moment. You quickly plastered it back on your face, hoping no one noticed.
What was that feeling? It seemed like someone was watching you, intently for that matter.
You kept playing, allowing your eyes to wander until you met the gaze of a lone woman, sitting at a table full of food. Yet she had touched maybe one or two plates. All she was doing was sitting, posture perfect, and watching you with her strange, pale eyes. The focus of her stare felt unsettling.
She was so... different. She did not smile. Compared to the vibrant clothes of the other customers, she felt bleached out. Clad in pale shades of blue and grey, she looked like a bird in the snow, extending its wings, looking at the sky. But she did not fly. Even her hair was a pristine white, except for the bottoms that looked like they were once black. But what was the most shocking were the red ropes tied and knotted all over her figure, some adorned in her hair, some at her waist. It gave the impression of a bleeding crane in a blizzard.
Did she like your music? What was the stare for? And why should you care if she liked what you played or not? Who even was she?
Ah, right.
You cared not because of your pride as a musician or your job, but because... what?
Oh, it was because she was beautiful. A bleeding crane in a blizzard was still a crane, elegant and regal. Pure.
Well then, you thought grimly. I'll do my best to satisfy.