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Chapter Text

To be completely honest, Fu Xuan is already having a pretty terrible day, even before getting dumped.

            Despite the worst of the Stellaron crisis being in the rearview mirror, the Xianzhou Luofu is still in chaos. The death toll, while not as catastrophic as it could have been, is nonetheless far too large. The Luofu’s coffers are practically bleeding money as off-world merchants take advantage of their desperation to jack up prices on much-needed relief supplies. And worst of all, Fu Xuan is finally taking on the Arbiter-General’s responsibilities after centuries, and she barely even has the time to enjoy it.

            It wouldn’t be so bad if she had the support of the other Charioteers, but they’re scattered to the winds. Jing Yuan, of course, is recuperating from his wounds from battling Phantylia. Yuluo, the new Chief Alchemist, is far too busy finding her own footing and cleaning up the mess of her predecessor to be of much help. Yukong is off chasing a ghost, having become obsessed with finding whatever remains of her favorite amicassador. The Ten-Lords Commission is overwhelmed with processing new souls in the Hall of Karma, the Artisanship Commission is recovering from the attack on their delve, and the Realm-Keeping Commission is stretched thin at the best of times. Fu Xuan is on her own.

            This has resulted in plenty of long days, and many hours of missed sleep, to the point where even the strongest coffee hasn’t been able to keep her up and running. And so, seeing as the Qixi Festival is today, Fu Xuan has done something she has never done before: she applied for a day off so she could go on a date with her girlfriend.

            Her girlfriend’s name is Ziqiao, and she’s a Vidyadharan cycrane operator for the Heron Express. The two of them happened to meet during official commission business, and proceeded to keep in contact after said business concluded, their relationship eventually evolving into one of a romantic nature. She’s warm, friendly, professional, intelligent, and most importantly, doesn’t seem to mind that the person she’s dating is one of the most powerful people on the Luofu. Many of Fu Xuan’s pervious relationships have fizzled out because of that last point, but she and Ziqiao are coming up on five months now. She’s feeling optimistic about this.

            As Fu Xuan makes her way to their meeting point, she goes over the plan for the date in her head. Although the option of simply divining the evening’s events is a tempting one, the ever-present throb of the omniscia in her forehead a constant reminder of the power she holds, she resists its call once more. Divining one’s own future is taboo, after all. Besides, she doesn’t need it. She has a basket of warm qiǎoguǒ pastries (freshly baked this morning, following a lot of trial and error), a bouquet of exotic, off-world flowers, and secluded location with a full view of the Luofu’s artificial night sky. According to Fu Xuan’s research, these are the essential attributes for a successful Qixi Festival date.

            When Fu Xuan arrives at the park, Ziqiao is already seated on the grass, in the agreed-upon location. The cool blue dusk makes her look ethereal. “Apologies,” Fu Xuan begins, strolling up to Ziqiao, “I’m one minute and twenty-four seconds late.”

            Ziqiao’s smile is warm, but a little strained. “Fu Xuan! You made it. Were you having trouble with commission work again?” she asks.

            A fair assumption, considering how many times the master diviner gets caught up with her duties, but an incorrect one. “Not this time,” Fu Xuan answers. She sits down next to Ziqiao and pulls the basket onto her lap, leaving the bouquet hidden at her side for now. “Rather, I simply underestimated the amount of time these pastries would take to prepare.” She folds back the basket lid, allowing Ziqiao a peek inside.

            Ziqiao blinks a couple times. “That’s… wow. How many did you make?”

            “Five dozen,” Fu Xuan says simply. “…Is that not enough? I just wanted to convey the depths of my appreciation for you.” She takes a deep breath. Time for some sincere emotions. “Ziqiao, I… cannot overstate your importance to me. These few months that we’ve spent together have been more than I could have ever hoped for. And considering the date, I thought now was a good opportunity to… make sure you know that.”

            Ziqiao winces a little. “This is incredible and so, so kind, but… I’m not actually the biggest fan of pastry,” she says awkwardly. “…Sorry.”

            …Oh. Okay, then. Time for improvising. (Fu Xuan hates improvising.) She swiftly closes the basket and half-places-half-chucks it off to the side. “Well, that’s alright. I believe some shops should still be open at this hour. What would you prefer? Chocolates? Sweets? Some tea?”

            “Listen…”

            “Money is no object, I assure you. You deserve only the best.”

            “Fu Xuan, we need to talk.”

            “…Oh,” Fu Xuan murmurs. Then she quickly composes herself, folding her hands in her lap. “Go on.”

            “I… look, I don’t know how else to put this, so I’m just going to say it,” Ziqiao decides. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

            Oh.

            When Fu Xuan doesn’t immediately respond, Ziqiao says, “…Fu Xuan?”

            “I… see,” Fu Xuan finally mutters. “Did you find there to be deficiencies with my character?”

            “No, nothing like that,” Ziqiao shakes her head. “It’s just… this is the first time we’ve seen each other in weeks.”

            “Yes, I’ve been rather busy mitigating the Stellaron Crisis and the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus’ rebellion,” Fu Xuan explains.

            “And I understand that,” Ziqiao responds delicately. Her hands fidget with the grass below them. “But this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. You’re practically married to your work. And whenever you do make time for me, it’s always some big, generic romantic gesture pulled straight out of a romance novel that you seem to think will make everything magically better,” she says, her tone a little wobbly.

            “It was not my intention to—”

            “I know,” Ziqiao interrupts. “And I’m not blaming you. But I need more than that. And you can’t give it to me. I’m sorry.” She purses her lips. “I just wanted to tell you in person.”

            Fu Xuan considers this as best she can, her thoughts running wild as they are. But in the end, even without divination, she knows there’s only one possible path. She sighs. “Very well, I understand. Consider this relationship terminated.”

            “Um… alright,” Ziqiao nods.

            “Alright.”

            “You’re surprisingly calm about this.”

            Fu Xuan fights to keep a straight face. “What makes that surprising?”

            “Please don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just that you’re… kind of intense a lot of the time,” Ziqiao explains delicately. “I guess I was worried that you’d get angry, or try to win me back somehow.”

            Fu Xuan shakes her head. “You’ve clearly already made up your mind. We don’t work. Further conversation would be both pointless and insulting to both of our dignities,” she says emotionlessly. Then she stands, plucking the bouquet off the ground and placing it next to Ziqiao. “…I got you flowers,” she mumbles, then walks away.

            Ziqiao doesn’t call after her.

. . .

            Fu Xuan ends up returning to the Divination Commission, because really, what else is there for her to do? All her plans for the evening have been wasted, and there’s still plenty of work to be done at both of her current positions. She’s been prioritizing her duties as Acting Arbiter-General, but the Master Diviner is still needed. She might as well use this unexpected free time to be productive.

            She regrets this decision immediately when she arrives at the Divination Commission and sees that the only worker who hasn’t yet clocked out for the day is a certain pigtailed headache. But it’s too late – she’s already been spotted.

            “Boss?” Qingque asks, looking up from a pile of paperwork on her desk. “Surprised to see you—actually, scratch that, I’m not surprised. Can’t believe I ever thought you, of all people, actually took a day off!”

            “Plans have changed,” Fu Xuan says simply, walking in and closing the door behind her. “I’m more surprised that you’re still here. I could have sworn you claimed two months ago that you were allergic to overtime. Should I inform the Alchemy Commission?”

            “Sadly, no,” Qingque laments. “It seems my usual source of excuses for slacking is no longer available. Oh, woe is me!” she cries, throwing her arms in the air.

            “With such a flair for the dramatics, it’s wonder you didn’t become a storyteller instead,” Fu Xuan snarks, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite her slacker subordinate. “What are you working on?”

            “Eh, just some standard post-divination paperwork,” Qingque answers. “Perfectly designed to busy the hands and numb the mind.”

            Fu Xuan elects to ignore the last remark. “Yes, I did… notice an unusually high number of divinations today,” she says.

            “Normally I’d just put this off, but Huixing has been breathing down my neck about getting this done, so I guess I’ve got no choice but to do some actual work,” Qingque groans.

            “Indeed,” Fu Xuan muses. She idly glances over the contents of Qingque’s assignments – and then their quantity. “Allow me to take care of some of this,” she decides, grabbing a stack of Qingque’s papers and a pen.

            Qingque raises her eyebrows. “Huh? Wait, really? Why?”

            “Forcing you to complete such a ludicrous amount of work won’t encourage you to be a better diviner, it’ll only burn you out and make you exhausted in the days and weeks to come,” Fu Xuan explains, already filling out paperwork at a lightning-fast pace. “Not to mention that at least this way, my day won’t have been a total waste.”

            “Yeah, can’t relate,” Qingque says, returning to her own paperwork.

            “I assumed,” Fu Xuan spits, with a little more ire than is probably necessary. “But given that the whole reason I took a day off today turned out to be pointless, I’d like to make myself useful to at least one person today, even if it is you.”

            “Oof,” Qingque remarks, her pen moving at a fraction of the speed of Fu Xuan’s. “Do you wanna, I dunno… talk about it?”

            “Not particularly, and definitely not with you,” Fu Xuan says, her pen speeding up.

            “I mean, you should probably talk about it with somebody…”

            “Not going to happen.”

            Qingque stops writing and puts her pen down. “Boss, I can’t believe I’m asking this, but… are you okay?”

            “I’m fine, I’m—” Fu Xuan’s pen starts making thick, blotted lines, so she takes it off the page and examines it. The tip is bent. She sighs.

            “…Boss?”

            Fu Xuan sets the pen down and leans back in her seat. “Qingque, may I ask you a question?”

            Qingque shrugs. “I mean… okay?”

            “Why is it,” Fu Xuan considers, standing up and leaning her palms on the table, “that despite my centuries of experience, the hundreds of thousands of divinations I have performed, I still take a step back and find myself… inadequate? I do not work hard enough to prevent a disaster that has claimed the lives of hundreds of our comrades, yet I work too hard to salvage any traces of a personal life. I chart courses that guide the Luofu to prosperity, and yet I am still a slave to the whims of fate and the decisions of others. I divine plans that save the lives of millions, and yet factors that I failed to consider doom us a mere few decades down the line! Why am I never enough?” she shouts, clenching her fists.

            Qingque awkwardly fidgets in her seat, eyes flitting around the room.

            Fu Xuan sighs. “I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining,” she chuckles. “This is the path I’ve chosen, even knowing the consequences. This is my penance.” With one finger, she rubs the omniscia implanted in her forehead. It alleviates the pain for a moment. “The price of my arrogance.”

            Qingque nods. “Cool.” She holds out a small box. “Want a milk candy ball?”

            Fu Xuan takes a few deep breaths. What she wants to say is, ‘I’m sorry for the outburst, I may be having a bad day, but that has nothing to do with you. Given my position, I should be setting a better example. I’m acting childishly.’ What she actually mumbles under her breath is a quiet, “Thank you.” She gingerly takes the box from Qingque’s hands, removes the lid, and pops one of the chocolates into her mouth. It’s strawberry-flavored. She sighs and lets the taste wash over her. She needed this.

            Qingque waits with baited breath. “…Do you like them?”

            “Yes,” Fu Xuan nods. She takes another chocolate from the other edge of the box and eats it. It’s strawberry as well. “…Are these all strawberry flavored?”

            “Umm… I guess so,” Qingque says, sticking her hands in her pockets and staring at the floor.

            “That's my favorite flavor,” Fu Xuan notes.

            “Oh wow, really?” Qingque lets out a forced chuckle. “What a happy coincidence!”

            Fu Xuan inspects the box of chocolates. “You know, the last time I checked, the food stall that makes these doesn’t sell boxes of only strawberry candies.”

            Qingque pales. “Uh… it’s a new release?”

            “No, it’s not,” Fu Xuan says firmly. She would know if this vendor had any new products. “The only way you could have procured a box of only strawberry chocolates is if you had purchased multiple variety packs, then placed all the strawberry ones in a single box, no?”

            “Nnnnnope,” Qingque clearly lies.

            “The lid of this box reads, ‘Variety Pack’,” Fu Xuan observes.

            “No, it doesn’t!” Qingque cries, swiping the lid from Fu Xuan’s hands and tossing it across the room. “Oh, whoops, guess now we’ll never know, huh?”

            “Littering is against Divination Commission regulations,” Fu Xuan says. “I could dock your pay for that.”

            “Ugh, fine!” Qingque groans, stomping over to go pick up the lid. “So maybe I go to a certain amount of effort to keep a box of your favorite chocolates at my desk for whenever you get all intense or whatever, so what?”

            “That’s… very kind of you,” Fu Xuan answers honestly.

            “Oh, I’m not being selfless here,” Qingque clarifies, returning to the desk with the lid in tow. “I’m just lessening the probabilities of you biting my head off at some point. Heh, it’s kinda like divination, in a way!”

            Fu Xuan giggles at that, despite herself. “Your logic is as impenetrable as ever.”

            Qingque shrugs. “Takes one to know one, I say.”

            “If you insist,” Fu Xuan murmurs, turning her attention back to the paperwork on the desk. Now that her vision is no longer clouded, she notices something peculiar about some of the details on it. “…This isn’t supposed to be part of your normal workload,” she observes.

            “Umm…” Qingque hums, putting her hands behind her back in a very suspicious manner. “So what if it isn’t?”

            “Well, I’d appreciate an explanation. I know you didn’t just volunteer for this.”

            “Er…”

            “Qingque.”

            “I’m really not supposed to tell you!” Qingque pleads.

            “Qingque.”

            “Okay, fine! So mayyybe a certain diviner in charge of scheduling messed up the dates of a bunch of divinations and knew you’d be mad about it, so she dumped all the paperwork on my department so that you wouldn’t find out. And maybe also I spent all of today trying to get out of doing it, which didn’t work, and that’s why I’m staying so late,” Qingque explains through clenched teeth. “…Is this the part where you bite my head off?”

            “Not yours,” Fu Xuan says, gathering up the paperwork into a pile. “Go home, this work is no longer your responsibility. I’m going to have a talk with the guilty parties tomorrow, rest assured this won’t be traced back to you. I appreciate you informing me of this.”

            “Huh.” Qingque stands up and brushes herself off. “Y’know, you’re not so bad, boss.”

            “I am offering you a way out of work, I suggest you take it,” Fu Xuan says.

            “Oh, believe me, I’m heading out,” Qingque responds, gathering her possessions. “But one good deed deserves another, right? Let me give you some advice, Boss.”

            “If I ever need your advice, Qingque, it’ll be when Lan shakes hands with Yaoshi.”

            “If you’re worried about not having a social life, you just gotta get better at putting yourself out there!” Qingque continues, either ignoring or oblivious to Fu Xuan’s comment. “Go out and meet people! Touch some grass! Don’t be afraid to make some mistakes, y’know? That’s what I think, anyway.”

            Fu Xuan pinches the bridge of her nose. “Qingque, go home.”

            “Already on it,” Qingque calls back, making her way out the door. “See you tomorrow, Boss!”

            As soon as Qingque is out of earshot, Fu Xuan allows herself to let out a sigh. That foolish slacker is a near-constant source of headaches – and, to make things even more irritating, she’s right. It’s been centuries since Fu Xuan made a real friend outside of work. She simply can’t tear herself away from the omniscia long enough to maintain a relationship for any length of time.

            …Maybe she can change that? She won’t be becoming a party animal overnight, of course, there are still plenty of duties that will occupy her hours for the foreseeable future. But perhaps she can start small, such as attending a social gathering sometime this week! That shouldn’t take too much effort. She makes a mental note to search social media for any sort of non-invitational parties or celebrations in the area.

            But that is a concern for another time. For now, she has to close up the Divination Commission, and then tomorrow, she’ll focus on correcting Huixing’s scheduling mistakes and ensuring proper consequences for her attempted cover-up.

            After all, there is always more work to be done.

            (She takes the box of chocolates with her when she leaves.)

Chapter Text

“…And then she told me to go home, and that she’d take care of all the work!” Qingque finishes recapping to the table. “I almost couldn’t believe my ears!”

            “I call bull,” Xuxia says from Qingque’s right. “You’re messing with us. There’s no way notorious hardass Diviner Fu actually got you out of work.”

            “Hey, weirder things have happened!” Sushang interjects from across the table, discarding one of her tiles. “Tian, it’s your turn.”

            Little Tian, who sits to Qingque’s left, studies the set of tiles in her hand intensely. “You have to admit, this tale of yours is quite a tall one,” the alchemist murmurs, before selecting a tile to draw. “Although… Diviner Fu seems to be a principled person. It makes sense that she relieved you of work that wasn’t supposed to be yours.”

            It’s late afternoon, a few days after the encounter being discussed, and the four of them are seated around their usual table at the Sleepless Earl, playing a game of Celestial Jade. Each of them are masters of the game – even Sushang, who only picked it up a couple of months ago, has learned surprisingly quickly. It’s usually Qingque who wins their bouts (she did revive the game practically by herself, after all), but close games are becoming more and more common as her pupils improve their skills. Today is an excellent example: even though Qingque is trying her best to put together a hand, she just can’t seem to get anything going. She must be off her game for some reason.

            Eh, whatever. “I’ll have you know I speak only the truth,” Qingque lies.

            “Besides asking me for fraudulent doctor’s notes,” Little Tian snarks, discarding a tile.

            “Only the truth!” Qingque lies even harder.

            “Sure. Your turn, by the way.”

            “I-I knew that!” Qingque lies a third time, surveying her tiles. Wow, this is so not her game. She pulls a tile at random. It’s decent. “But seriously, it was so weird! She was being all… nice or whatever. Maybe it was the milk candy balls?”

            “You know what they say,” Xuxia smirks. “The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach. Maybe she thought you were trying to put the moves on her.”

            “Shuddap,” Qingque half-heartedly says, discarding a tile. Then she thinks about that for a second. “Actually, now that you think about it, she was complaining about not having time off work. Maybe the reason she’s always grumpy is ‘cuz she can’t get enough action!”

            “Ewwww…” Sushang groans, wincing.

            “Alright, so it’s settled,” Xuxia decides. “You’ve gotta seduce her.”

            Qingque flushes. “W-what?”

            “Uh, hey!” Sushang interjects, also red-faced. “Innocent ears over here!”

            “Aw, c’mon,” Xuxia says. “You’re telling me you haven’t at least thought about sex yet?” She draws a tile, then discards it.

            “N-no!” Sushang stammers. “A Cloud Knight must be steadfast and dedicated wholly to their mission of protecting the citizens of the Xianzhou!”

            “Is that why you’ve been hanging out with that outworlder girl so much recently?” Little Tian deadpans. “Not rushing you or anything, I’m just saying. Also, it’s your turn.”

            Sushang sighs and draws a tile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says firmly, her brow furrowed and her cheeks flushed.

            “Alright, alright, we’ll lay off,” Little Tian says.

            “Yeah, and go back to talking about how Qingque’s gonna get with Diviner Fu!” Xuxia exclaims.

            Dang it, Qingque was hoping they had forgotten about that. “I’m not going to sleep with my boss just to cheer her up!” she protests. “I mean, what’s in it for me?”

            Little Tian raises an eyebrow. “Besides the part where you get to have sex?”

            “With Boss? Ew,” Qingque recoils. “I can’t even see her as a woman, more like… some sort of sexless pink blob that yells about paperwork and deadlines. Gross.”

            Xuxia snickers. “Okay, now I’m picturing that in my head, and it’s hilarious.”

            “Not to mention that my last girlfriend and I broke up because she kept yelling at me to stop playing Celestial Jade!” Qingque points out. “This would just be the same thing all over again!”

            “Oh, right, I think I remember you mentioning her,” Sushang says, discarding a tile. “How long ago was that again?”

            Xuxia smirks. “A whole five years, now. She’s been single ever since. Our Qingque’s losing her touch!”

            “I-I am not losing my touch!” Qingque sputters. “I can pull in women just fine! Just waiting for that special someone, y’know.”

            “And by ‘special someone’, you mean someone who will let you play Celestial Jade at all hours of the day?” Little Tian snarks. She draws a tile from the discard pile.

            Qingque crosses her arms and turns her nose up at her game-mates. “Precisely.”

            “Well, in that case, I have some bad news for you,” Little Tian smiles mischievously. “This game is now over.” And with that, she sets down all the tiles in her hand, revealing their contents. A quick inspection reveals it’s a winning hand – a pretty good one, too.

            Qingque groans and lets her tiles drop from her hands. “Oof. I admit defeat. Truly, the student has become the master.”

            “Well, as long as you’re not dramatic about it or anything,” Xuxia snarks.

            The group congratulates Little Tian on her win, and then Qingque turns to the next matter of importance. “Alright, who’s up for another round? I’ll beat you all this time!”

            “Sorry, I’ve got to go,” Little Tian says, standing up from the table. “My parents are visiting, and they’re insisting on taking me out for dinner. If I’m late, I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

            “Quitting while you’re ahead, I see,” Qingque jokingly remarks.

            “Yeah… now that you mention it, I should probably head out too,” Sushang decides, standing as well. “I haven’t finished my self-reflection exercises yet today.”

            Xuxia groans and leans back in her chair. “Ugh, I guess I should go home and study for my language translation exam tomorrow.”

            Sushang’s eyes widen. “Another new degree? Geez, Xuxia, you’re kind of making the rest of us look bad at this point!”

            “Anything to get me some interstellar work,” Xuxia sighs. “I just wish it wasn’t so time-consuming. I’m missing out on a perfectly good mixer in Aurum Alley tonight, I’ll have you know.” Then she sits up suddenly. “Hey, Qingque! Why don’t you take my invite? Maybe you can find that special someone~…”

            “A mixer? No thanks,” Qingque scoffs. “You know who goes to mixers? Desperate people. And I’m not desperate.” Sure, she might be 0-for-133 in terms of keeping a steady girlfriend, but she’s not desperate. She’s just been… taking a break from dating lately. Yeah.

            “Well, I’m not using it, so I might as well give it to you,” Xuxia decides. She fishes her jade abacus out of her pocket and presses a few buttons. A second later, there’s a blip noise from Qingque’s own abacus letting her know she’s received the invite. “It’s Friday night, what better way is there to get your mind of your shouty blob of a boss than to get wasted and maybe get lucky?”

            Qingque pouts. “Okay, you’ve got a point. But I’m still not going.”

. . .

            Qingque ends up going to the mixer. So sue her.

            It’s decent, all things considered. Qingque gets the feeling that the whole reason this sort of event was scheduled in the first place was to attract more potential customers to the newly revitalized Aurum Alley. As such, the venue – a high-class restaurant – is absolutely spotless for the occasion, and the staff are serving up quality dishes (and alcohol) at light speed. On any other night, Qingque would love to come here to eat some good food and unwind.

            Unfortunately, she’s at a mixer, for some reason. Which means that the chatter is loud, the space is crowded, and the company is questionable. Just by glancing over the crowd, she estimates that a good fifty percent of the attendees here are single for very good reasons. Definitely not the sort of people she wants to end up involved with. Not to mention that the clientele at this event is unsurprisingly skewed towards the heterosexual, which means that Qingque’s chances of leaving here with a halfway decent paramour are dwindling rapidly. People keep bumping into her, everyone is talking way too loudly, and she really wishes she were alone playing games right now. At this point, it would take a miracle to make this night salvageable.

            And right on cue, a miracle makes itself known, because Qingque spots none other than Fu Xuan hiding in the corner of the room. Qingque has to do a double take when she sees her, because why in all the galaxies would the master diviner ever show up at an event like this, but it’s definitely her. Qingque has been scolded too many times by that woman to not recognize her figure on sight.

            She’s in disguise, which makes sense, considering her level of fame as one of the Six Charioteers. The issue is that she’s severely overdressed. She’s wearing a pink and blueish-grey hanfu with flower detailing, plus a cloth headband to hide the gem on her forehead, an outfit that would look more at place at a banquet than a mixer. Her pink hair is pulled up into a neat bun that probably took ages of work to get right. The fanciness of Fu Xuan’s garb, combined with her defensive posture and clear discomfort with the current situation, is both incredibly hilarious and slightly adorable. Qingque just has to see more of this.

            So she swiftly ditches the latest man to try and chat her up, interrupting him right in the middle of his mind-numbing explanation of online currencies, and pushes her way through the crowd to the corner where Fu Xuan is. The master diviner hasn’t noticed her yet, so Qingque gently elbows her and says, “Hey there, cutie. Come here often?”

            The emotions that pass over Fu Xuan’s face are entertaining enough to instantly make Qingque’s whole month. First, she flinches a little, startled, but quickly relaxes once she’s processed Qingque’s words. A shy smile is just beginning to spread across her face, but it’s swiftly interrupted by the precise moment that she recognizes her own employee. Then, all the color drains from her face as her eyes go wide. “Qingque?” she hisses under her breath.

            Qingque can’t help it – she breaks down cackling. This is too good. Fu Xuan could fire her right now, and it would’ve been worth it. Hell, the master diviner could murder Qingque with her bare hands right on the spot, and she’d still die happy. Eventually she manages to compose herself enough to smirk and say, “Hey, Boss. What’s up?”

            Fu Xuan silently grabs Qingque by the collar with surprising strength and pulls her in close – which would normally be the sort of thing to make Qingque’s cheeks red, but the master diviner has murder in her eyes. “What. Are you doing here?” she growls.

            Qingque decides it’s time to backtrack. “Just attending the event! Trying to meet new people, and all that,” she says, putting her hands up nonthreateningly.

            “Are you certain?”

            “Yes!”

            Fu Xuan’s eyes narrow as she studies Qingque’s face. “And you are not here to embarrass, sabotage, or otherwise undermine me?”

            “What? No! Why would I even do that?” Qingque answers.

            “Okay,” Fu Xuan sighs in relief. She releases Qingque. “Apologies. This is not one of my usual pastimes, so I’m a little on edge.”

            “No kidding,” Qingque says, adjusting the collar of her shirt. “Why are you here, anyway? I kinda figured you’d be too fancy and dignified for this sort of thing.”

            “For the same reasons as you,” Fu Xuan admits, crossing her arms. Qingque can’t tell if the blush in her cheeks is a trick of the light or not. “I decided to take your advice from earlier this week and ‘touch some grass’, as you put it. And seeing as I am newly single, I decided the first step would be attending this… ‘mixer’.”

            Qingque barely listens to the last part of Fu Xuan’s speech, latching onto one detail in particular. “Newly single? Wait, so you dumped the general?” she asks.

            Fu Xuan blinks. “What? No.”

            “The… general dumped you?”

            Fu Xuan sighs. “Qingque, at no point in time have I ever been romantically involved with Arbiter-General Jing Yuan. He is someone I have equal amounts of respect and irritation for, but I do not see him in that way. He is my colleague, not a romantic interest.”

            “Huh,” Qingque responds. “Well, shoot, I’m out, like, 50 Strale.”

            Fu Xuan pinches the bridge of her nose. “Also, for future reference in any other bets you might make about my love life, I’m extremely gay.”

            “Huh.” Qingque… wasn’t expecting that. Not to mention for the master diviner to disclose it so nonchalantly.

            Fu Xuan raises an eyebrow. “I trust you have no issue with this?”

            “Oh, no no no, no problem!” Qingque quickly reassures her. “As a matter of fact, um… same, actually.”

            “Is that so?” Fu Xuan muses. “Interesting. Given our previous interactions, I would have assumed that your romantic interests were limited to celestial jade tiles. Instead, it appears we actually have something in common.”

            Qingque chuckles and puts her hands on her hips. “Hey, we’ve got plenty in common!”

            “Such as…?”

            Qingque has to think about that for a moment. “Well… we both think this mixer is way too loud, crowded, and filled with straight people.”

            On the other side of the restaurant, a clearly drunk man tries to plant a kiss on the woman he’s speaking with, only to lose his balance and topple over. Fu Xuan flinches as he hits the floor. “Was my discomfort that obvious?” she asks.

            “Just a little.”

            “Hmm.” Fu Xuan puts a hand on her chin. “I’m tempted to simply leave, but this is my first attempt at becoming more sociable. I’d like to see it through.” Then she turns to Qingque. “Since we already know each other, maybe we could stick together?”

            Qingque chuckles. “Pretty sure that’s the opposite purpose of a mixer, Boss.”

            “I could write it off as engaging in off-hours teambuilding with your superior,” Fu Xuan offers. “It’s the sort of thing that will look good on your next performance review.”

            “Is it the sort of thing that’s good enough to get me a raise, but not a promotion?”

            “I believe so, yes.”

            “Then what are we waiting for?” Qingque decides. “Stick with me, Boss, I’ll show you all my best tricks for how to save a terrible evening! Step one: alcohol!” She quickly scans the restaurant, then flags down the closest waiter. “A bottle of your finest wine, good sir!” she says.

            “A-and one for me too,” Fu Xuan adds.

            “Oh-hoh! I like the way you think, Boss!” Qingque says honestly, as the waiter scampers off to fulfill their order.

            “I just hope I don’t end up embarrassing myself,” Fu Xuan murmurs. It’s obvious this time that she’s blushing. “I don’t often drink, you see.”

            “Eh, don’t worry about it,” Qingque waves her off. “You could stand to let loose a little anyway.”

            The waiter returns with two freshly opened bottles of wine about a half minute later. The pair of diviners take the bottles and, at Fu Xuan’s suggestion, find themselves an empty booth away from most of the commotion to sit down. The waiter brought them wine glasses too, but Qingque elects to simply take the full bottle in her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Fu Xuan does the same.

            “Okay, we have alcohol,” Fu Xuan says. “What’s step two?”

            “Step two is drinking the alcohol!” Qingque proudly declares. “Also, there are no more steps after that.”

            Fu Xuan rolls her eyes. “I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

            “Hey, if it didn’t work, I wouldn’t be doing it, right?” Qingque says. Her logic is questionable at best, she’s aware, but she decides not to think about that too hard. “Just give it a shot.”

            “Very well,” Fu Xuan responds. “Bottoms up, I suppose.”

            They drink.

. . .

            The rest of the night is a blur. At first, Qingque and Fu Xuan drink in silence, but then one of them makes a remark, Qingque can’t remember who, and it spirals off into a long conversation about everything and nothing at all. At one point, Qingque goes on a rant about her demanding family, and Fu Xuan cuts in with unexpectedly witty barbs against them that have Qingque in stitches. Who knew the master diviner could be so funny?

            They order some more alcohol, and maybe more after that, Qingque isn’t sure. Fu Xuan wants Qingque to try one of her drinks, some sort of fruity abomination that looks like it could overload taste buds on contact, so Qingque scoots under the table and sits beside her boss. She takes a sip of the drink. It’s not bad.

            They talk a bit more, and Qingque finds herself feeling a bit chilly, so cuddles up to Fu Xuan, trying to suck up a bit of her warmth. Does this mean Qingque is drunk? She’s always been a cuddly drunk. (Fu Xuan, surprisingly, doesn’t push her away, and instead leans into her.)

            When the restaurant closes, they’re among the last to leave, stumbling out the front door with arms around each other’s shoulders. Fu Xuan is babbling about something or other, so she doesn’t notice the step until she trips over it. Qingque breaks her fall, and their lips happen to meet.

            They part, then pause, looking into each other’s eyes. Her lips were really soft, Qingque thinks to herself. Then their lips meet again, purposefully this time. Then again, and again.

            Fu Xuan grabs her hand and pulls her along, and they eventually make it back to the master diviner’s residence. Their path through the building is a chaotic one, as they frequently stop to run their hands over each other, as if trying to memorize the shape of each other’s bodies. They do eventually make it to Fu Xuan’s bedroom, and Qingque takes great pleasure in pulling off that way-too-fancy hanfu.

            Then Fu Xuan kisses her so hard they both lose their balance, and they fall right onto the bed and right into heaven.

Chapter Text

On Saturdays, Fu Xuan doesn’t technically have work. In practice, she’s needed for about a million meetings and minor emergencies every day of the week. And that’s not even counting her new duties as acting arbiter-general. This is why she has an automated alarm to wake her up at a reasonable hour.

            Normally, the alarm is the welcome start of another fulfilling day. Now, however, it’s a very unwelcome noise, piercing through her ears and rousing her from a very pleasant dream. Fu Xuan’s eyes flicker open, and she takes a moment to adjust to the light streaming in through her bedroom window. Her brain feels fuzzy, like it’s reacting a few seconds behind everything. The good news is, her status as a long-life species renders her immune to the worst effects of a hangover. Nevertheless, she’s not going to be drinking that much in one night ever again.

            As for more good news: Fu Xuan’s bed is especially comfortable this morning. She’s so warm, and cozy, and there’s something heavy draped over her, almost like a weighted blanket, except weighted blankets don’t… breathe.

            Oh. That’s not a blanket. That’s a person.

            Fu Xuan has another person in her bed.

            Instantly, Fu Xuan’s brain is fully awake and analyzing at light speed. This is an entirely unfamiliar situation to her. Of course, she’s aware of the concept of one-night stands, she doesn’t live under a rock. She just figured she was above that sort of casual, meaningless sex. Apparently not.

            The mystery person is probably a woman, based both on Fu Xuan’s own preferences and the way her, ah… chest is pressing into Fu Xuan’s back. The woman is cuddling her from behind, so all Fu Xuan can see of her is her freckled arms loosely wrapped around Fu Xuan’s torso. It’s a little adorable…

            No. No! Focus. Who is this mystery woman? Fu Xuan can’t see her face.

            Fortunately, she doesn’t have to wonder for much longer. Unfortunately, that’s because the mystery woman lets out a long yawn, stretches her arms out, then says in a very familiar voice, “Ugh, what’s that super loud noise?”

            And just like that, hearing Qingque’s voice in her ear is enough to make Fu Xuan’s only-just-woken-up brain crash in an instant. She only barely has the mental fortitude to reach out and deactivate her still-blaring alarm. Then she just stares off into the distance, trying to pinpoint when, exactly, she allowed her life to deteriorate this much.

            Qingque, for her part, sighs happily and nuzzles into Fu Xuan’s neck. “Mush better,” she mumbles.

            Fu Xuan silently prays to Lan to put her out of her misery.

            …Unfortunately, nothing happens.

            So instead, Fu Xuan turns herself around to face the source of her current woes, making extra sure to look into Qingque’s eyes instead of… anywhere lower. “Qingque,” she says. “I believe you have some explaining to do.”

            “Oh, hey, Boss,” Qingque says calmly. Then she does a double take, and her cheeks flare red. “Oh! Um… hey, Boss,” she murmurs. “This is, uh… wow.”

            Fu Xuan feels a spark of anger at that. “Is that seriously all you have to say?”

            Qingque, meanwhile, is glancing around the neat, orderly, and minimalist bedroom. “Okay. So this definitely isn’t my place.”

            “Yes, I’m aware,” Fu Xuan snaps. “Now, would you care to illuminate me as to what you and I did last night?”

            Qingque blinks. “Wait, you don’t remember? I guess you were pretty wasted.”

            “Indeed.” Then a thought occurs to Fu Xuan, and the spark of anger grows into a small flame. “Come to think of it, wasn’t the alcohol your idea? Did you intend for this to happen?”

            “What? No!” Qingque exclaims. “I’m a slacker, not a scumbag! I don’t remember much of last night either.”

            “So… we have no way of knowing, then,” Fu Xuan murmurs hopefully.

            “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Qingque chuckles. “I mean, we are both naked and all. Not to mention that my thighs are super sore. Guess it’s true what they say about not skipping leg day…”

            That much is true. Fu Xuan herself is quite sore as well, though a wave of shame and embarrassment passes through her as she realizes that she is sore in very different locations to Qingque. Lan’s arrows won’t be enough anymore, she needs Nanook to wipe her from existence entirely. Her cheeks are burning hot enough to fry an egg as she glares at Qingque. “Get out.”

            “Huh?”

            “Put your clothes back on, and get out of my house!” Fu Xuan shouts, sitting up and pulling the sheets with her.

            Qingque scrambles off the bed. “Okay, okay! Chill!” She quickly surveys the bedroom floor, identifying which of the scattered clothing items are hers and scooping them up. Fu Xuan takes a moment to gaze at her body. It seems that the freckles on her arms trail up to her shoulders too, and some are even sprinkled over her back. It’s so…

            …Nope, she is not finishing that thought. “Can’t you hurry up?”

            “I’m going as fast as I can!” Qingque says, tugging on her top and covering up those freckles. “Um, have you seen my—”

            “Qingque!”

            “You know what? I can go without!” Qingque decides. She hurriedly dons her other articles of clothing and rushes out the bedroom door, then pauses, scanning the hallway.

            “Make a left, the front door will be on your right,” Fu Xuan says. “Make sure no one sees you leaving.”

            “Got it!” Qingque answers, rushing off.

            As soon as she hears the click of the front door closing, Fu Xuan allows her head to fall into her hands. How did this happen? How did she allow this to happen? She’s supposed to be better than this, she’s supposed to be wise and intelligent, and not some simple harlot who’ll drop her leggings for the nearest girl with a cute smile. Especially when that girl happens to be her own employee!

…By the Aeons, she slept with her employee. She instantly regrets the way she sent Qingque away. This situation clearly required a little more tact on her part.

            Not for the first time, Fu Xuan fantasizes about a world in which her whole life is foretold, down to the last second. She’d never have to worry about stumbling into situations like this again. She would know exactly what the ideal path in any situation would be, and so she could live her life in the best possible way she could.

            But no. Divining one’s own future is taboo.

            Groaning, Fu Xuan finally pulls herself up and out of bed. After all, she can’t just laze about all day without accomplishing anything, unlike a certain someone else she can name. She gathers up last night’s scattered clothing items, then pauses when she sees a flash of crimson in the corner of her eye.

            On the bed, where Fu Xuan was lying just moments ago, is a pair of red, lacy panties that don’t belong to her.

            This is going to be a long day, isn’t it?

. . .

            Fu Xuan decides that the path through this situation is as follows: to just act as if it never happened. Don’t acknowledge it, don’t talk about it, don’t even think about it. She needs to put it out of her mind.

            Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done. Disjointed snippets of the previous night (and early morning) keep coming back to her at inopportune times, making focusing on her work close to impossible. She’s supposed to be making decisions that will alter the course of the Luofu, but instead, she can’t stop thinking about the way Qingque gently cupped her chin and kissed her…

            “Diviner Fu, are you listening?”

            Fu Xuan snaps back to reality and realizes that, right, she’s in the middle of a meeting. She and Jing Yuan are seated in the Seat of Divine Foresight, pouring over documents. She quickly clears her mind of any inappropriate thoughts and asks, “Yes, what is it?”

            Jing Yuan sighs and puts the paperwork he’s holding down on his desk. “No offense meant, but I’m not convinced you’re paying attention.”

            “Of course I am,” Fu Xuan scoffs. She surreptitiously scans the documents on the table. “We were just discussing… the Alchemy Commission’s prototype methods for detecting Draught of Draconic Surge.”

            Jing Yuan chuckles. “No, we were discussing that. But for the past five minutes, I’ve been talking about the differences between bird species, and you’ve been nodding along all the while.” His brow furrows. “I don’t mean to pry, but have you been getting enough sleep lately?”

            Fu Xuan crosses her arms. “Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

            “Because I’ve seen you consume enough energy drinks in the past half hour to kill someone,” Jing Yuan states matter-of-factly.

            Fu Xuan glances to her side. Sure enough, there’s a pile of at least a dozen empty drink bottles on the desk next to her. “Could have sworn that I only had one or two…” she mutters.

            Jing Yuan sighs. “Once again, I’d like to mention that you have the authority to appoint someone as acting master diviner while you handle the duties of the arbiter-general,” he annoyingly reminds her. “Running both positions at once is a strenuous task, even for you.”

            “I’m fine, it’s not the work that’s the issue,” Fu Xuan says, massaging her brow.

            “Troubles in your personal life, then.” Jing Yuan leans forward in his chair. “Did you want to talk about it?”

            “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

            “Come, Diviner Fu,” Jing Yuan says with an easygoing smile. “Surely, after all our centuries of working side-by-side, we can reasonably be called ‘friends’?”

            Can they? It’s true that the two of them have been colleagues for most of Fu Xuan’s career, but their relationship has been mostly based on a mutual desire to protect the interests of the Luofu. Not to mention that the last time Fu Xuan checked, friends don’t often pester each other to resign so they can take over their positions. But fine. If Jing Yuan really wants to know about her mess of a personal life, then Fu Xuan might as well see just how serious he is. “I got drunk and slept with a friend last night,” she says simply.

            Much to her surprise, Jing Yuan does not express discomfort or attempt to change the subject. He simply raises his eyebrows and says, “Oh?”

            “Well, maybe not a ‘friend’,” Fu Xuan continues. “An acquaintance, perhaps. Or… simply a person that I know. Who is not all that important to me.”

            “Mm-hm,” Jing Yuan hums, clearly unconvinced. “I fail to see the issue here.”

            Fu Xuan sighs. “When I realized what had happened, I… reacted poorly. I was ashamed of myself, and I took it out on her.” She curls her arms in on herself. “I’m beginning to think that I might have hurt her.”

            “Ah, yes, that would be unfortunate.”

            “I am rather good at hurting people, aren’t I,” Fu Xuan mumbles under her breath, almost too quietly to be heard.

            Jing Yuan picks up on it, of course. Damn him. “Ah, I see what is happening now,” he says, a hand on his chin.

            Fu Xuan’s eyebrow twitches. “Do enlighten me.”

            “It’s rather simple. You’re very used to being in control, to acting with absolute certainty. But now you’re in a situation in which you have no control, and it’s causing you to catastrophize over a very simple misunderstanding.” He leans back in his chair. “You’re simply panicking about being in an unfamiliar situation. The stress of recent events isn’t helping, I’d imagine.”

            Fu Xuan tries her best not to react to the large amount of sense that makes. “You got all of that from a few sentences?”

            “A few sentences, and several lifetime’s worth of knowing you,” Jing Yuan responds. “I’ve seen this sort of behavior from you before.”

            Jing Yuan doesn’t have to say the words ‘thirty years ago’. Fu Xuan hears them loud and clear nevertheless. How pathetic that this most recent (minor) debacle is affecting her anywhere near as badly as the biggest catastrophe of her career. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says firmly.

            “Very well, then,” Jing Yuan shrugs. He begins to gather up the papers on his desk. “How about we adjourn this meeting? You are not in the necessary mental state to fully participate, and I must be getting back to my bed rest, unless I want to get an earful from the Dragon Lady. Shall I give these documents to you, so you may review them on your own time?”

            “That would be acceptable,” Fu Xuan answers.

            Jing Yuan hands her the papers and shakily stands from his chair. Fu Xuan quickly signals one of the general’s handlers, who swoops in from the edge of the room and helps keep him steady as he leaves the Seat of Divine Foresight. As he goes, he tosses a glance back at Fu Xuan and says, “You know, Diviner Fu… no one’s expecting you to be omniscient.”

            Fu Xuan elects to ignore him.

. . .

            Come Monday, Fu Xuan is back at the Divination Commission, doing the paperwork of two jobs at once.

            Granted, she could be doing this work over at the Seat of Divine Foresight, where her office is larger and the coffee is of higher quality. But then she would run the risk of crossing paths with Jing Yuan again, and she’s not sure she could handle the mortification.

            However (and this is something that Fu Xuan really wishes she realized sooner), being at the Divination Commission means risking running into Qingque, which would be even worse. The two of them haven’t spoken since Saturday morning, and Fu Xuan isn’t remotely mentally prepared to do so. Her solution has been to shut herself in her personal office for the entire day, surrounded by stacks of paperwork, using her jade abacus and other forms of communication to transmit orders and critical information. She’s received visits from a few divination officials, but there’s been no appearance from Qingque. Consummate slacker that she is, she won’t set foot in Fu Xuan’s office unless her life depends on it. It’s the perfect plan.

            …Or it was, right up until the moment Qingque bursts through the doors of her office, eyes wide and breath short. She frantically looks around the sparsely decorated office before locking eyes with Fu Xuan herself. “Hide me,” she pleads.

            Fu Xuan tries to process this. “…What?”

            Before she can say anything else, Qingque scrambles around to the back of her desk and crawls underneath it, positioning herself by Fu Xuan’s legs. Then she curls herself up into a ball, making herself as small as possible. “Don’t sweat the details, just pretend I’m not here!” she whispers.

            Further lines of questioning are interrupted when the office doors swing open again to admit a tall man with sandy brown hair, wearing a red uniform that marks him as a member of the Artisanship Commission. Judging by the golden pins on his vest, he’s fairly high-ranking, too. He strides in with confidence, but as soon as he lays eyes on Fu Xuan, he stops in his tracks. “…Oh. Master Diviner Fu,” he says. “Sorry, I didn’t realize this was your office.”

            “Thank you for the apology,” Fu Xuan responds cautiously. “Have we met?”

            “Ah, no. I know of you in reputation only,” the man answers.

            “Then may I request the purpose of your presence here?” Fu Xuan asks pointedly.

            “I was just looking for someone, I could have sworn she came in here,” the man explains. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen her? Same hair color as me, pigtails, really short, dodges responsibility at the drop of a hat? She should be one of your diviners, assuming she somehow hasn’t gotten herself fired yet.”

            In her peripheral vision, Fu Xuan can just barely see Qingque frantically shaking her head. “Ah, you must mean Qingque,” she decides to say. “Yes, I’m quite… familiar with her. However, I can’t simply disclose the locations of my subordinates to any random person. I’m sure you understand.”

            “I understand completely,” the man says, wearing a smile that Fu Xuan doesn’t fully buy. “However, I’m not ‘just any person’. I’m her brother, my name’s Qingchao.”

            “Oh, I wasn’t aware Qingque had a brother. What’s the occasion to visit?”

            “Our parents just want me to check in on her, that’s all,” Qingchao answers. “She’s going through this phase where she isn’t talking to the family, so mom and dad send someone down every once in a while to make sure she isn’t homeless, or destitute, or something.” He chuckles a little.

            The sound sends chills up Fu Xuan’s spine. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you that you’re mistaken,” she says with all the sternness she can muster. “I haven’t seen Qingque all day. In fact, she’s currently on sick leave. Apparently she’s feeling quite under the weather.”

            “With another made-up, ‘incurable’ illness, no doubt,” Qingchao snarks. “What a joke. I mean, you know what she’s like, right?”

            “I am familiar with Diviner Qingque’s… workplace habits, yes,” Fu Xuan acknowledges.

            “Ugh, don’t even get me started,” Qingchao groans. “Mom and dad still think that if me and my siblings keep dropping by and talking about how successful we are, she’ll get her act together. But really, if she had any real smarts to back up that ego of hers, she’d have used them years ago. Honestly, she’s such a disgrace. I don’t even know why I bother anymore.”

            Fu Xuan can see the concealed Qingque flinch at her brother’s words. She’s never seen the slacker so clearly hurt by something before. It’s not something she likes seeing. “You’re being unfair,” she says to Qingchao.

            Qingchao raises an eyebrow. “What?”

            “You’re being extremely unfair,” Fu Xuan raises her voice and stands up from her desk. She’s significantly shorter than him, but she’s hoping her authoritative presence will make up the difference. It hasn’t failed her so far. “Diviner Qingque is an extremely intelligent, observant, and focused person when she chooses to be. Her divination skills, although rarely applied in practice, are extraordinary. She has found happiness and fulfillment in exactly the place she has chosen. And yet you belittle her behind her back for not falling into your narrow definition of ‘success’, then wonder why she no longer wishes to be associated with you? Why would she want a visit from a brother who constantly belittles her talents in order to feel better about his own miniscule accomplishments?” she seethes.

            Qingchao’s mouth hangs open for a moment. “I-I invented the hybrid propulsion starskiff engine!” he sputters indignantly.

            “And yet, I’ve never heard of you,” Fu Xuan says. “Now, if you please, I don’t appreciate the slandering of my subordinates. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She sits back down, then intertwines her fingers and rests her chin on them. “And I recommend you do so quickly, before I decide to inform Master Gongshu of your blatant disrespect.”

            Qingchao clenches his fists, but remains calm. “Very well. Good day, Master Diviner.”

            “Good day,” Fu Xuan responds. Then, as he turns to leave, she adds, “Oh, and it’s ‘my siblings and I’.”

            Qingchao simply exits and shuts the door behind him.

            It’s only once the sound of her brother’s footsteps are out of earshot that Qingque springs out from behind the desk. “Whew, that was a close one! Thanks for the save, Boss!”

            “It’s no trouble. I’ll have security stop him if he tries to enter the Divination Commission again, I can’t have my diviners being harassed while they’re on the clock.” Fu Xuan pauses to consider the interaction that has just taken place. “I was aware your family was demanding, but I didn’t know the situation had… deteriorated this much. I’m sorry.”

            “Ehh, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Qingque says, taking a seat on the edge of Fu Xuan’s desk and idly kicking her legs. “At this point, I’m a pro at avoiding talking to that guy.”

            “I was wondering where you honed your avoidance skills,” Fu Xuan remarks.

            “Oops, guess my secret’s out!” Qingque says, hopping off the desk and making a beeline for the door. “I should probably head out before I reveal all my strategies. See you around, Boss!”

            “Qingque, wait.”

            Qingque pauses, then slowly turns around. “…Am I in trouble?”

            “No, you’re not in trouble, I…” Fu Xuan pinches the bridge of her nose. “…I’ve been avoiding speaking with you, but I suppose there’s no sense in delaying this any longer. It is inevitable. We need to talk. But first…” she stands up, digs around in her pocket, then produces Qingque’s panties and hands them back to her. “…I believe these belong to you.”

            Qingque’s eyes go wide, and her face flushes. “Were you just keeping these in your pocket?” she asks.

            “Yes,” Fu Xuan answers. “I wasn’t sure when I would get the opportunity to return them to you, so I’ve been keeping them on me.”

            “Ooooookay,” Qingque murmurs, sticking the panties in her own pocket.

            “Now, onto the important matters,” Fu Xuan sighs, “I owe you an apology.”

            “What, for kicking me out?” Qingque says. “Ah, it’s okay. Wasn’t the worst walk of shame I’ve ever had by a long shot, so don’t worry about it!”

            Fu Xuan bites her lip. “It’s not just that. I’m sorry for the way I acted the previous night, and I’m especially sorry that I briefly attempted to blame you for it, despite me being the one in the wrong.”

            Qingque raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean? We were both drunk, remember? Or, well… I guess you don’t, huh? That’s the whole point,” she snickers at her own joke.

            “That doesn’t matter,” Fu Xuan says firmly. “I was the superior in that situation, so it was my responsibility to put a stop to it. I have a tremendous amount of power over you, and that power could easily be leveraged and abused in a sexual relationship. I will be blunt: this was a grave misuse of my authority, and I’m tremendously sorry.”

            “Woah, chill, Boss!” Qingque interjected, waving her hands in front of her. “Hey, I’m supposed to be dramatic one here! I wanted to do it, you wanted to do it, what’s the problem?”

            “The problem is that, as your employer and superior, I have certain… responsibilities towards you.” And after the confrontation with Qingque’s brother, that’s clear more than ever. As the master diviner, it’s Fu Xuan’s duty to protect Qingque and others under her command – even from herself. “What’s more, a situation like this can easily create conflicts of interest, even after a one-time event such as this. Steps must be taken to rectify that,” she decides. She pulls out some blank papers from her desk and begins to scribble down her ideas on them. “We’re going to need an alternate chain of command for you to report to, one that doesn’t involve me in any way. The proper policy would be to report our… brief liaison to the Human Resources department, but given your distaste for standing out or special treatment, I suppose some of the more explicit details can be omitted in the version of events I send to them. And, of course, I can no longer have any say in the continuation of your employment here.”

            “Wait, wait, wait,” Qingque interrupts Fu Xuan’s train of thought. “You’re telling me that I spent ten years working out how to get on your good side, and now I have to figure out some new schmuck?” She grabs onto Fu Xuan’s shoulders and gently shakes her. “You can’t do this to me, Boss!”

            Fu Xuan shakes off Qingque’s hands and continues writing. “Rest assured, your new supervisor will be made aware of your unique work ethic, as well as how to best motivate you.”

            Qingque crosses her arms and pouts. “It still won’t be the same.”

            “And while this process is underway, I will be placing you on paid leave,” Fu Xuan adds.

            Abruptly, Qingque’s attitude shifts. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she exclaims happily. “And, uh, make sure you take your time with this, right? Really make sure you’ve got everything ironed out. No need to hurry, I can find other things to occupy myself during my time off…”

            Fu Xuan chuckles a little, despite herself. “Rest assured, this process will take as long as it needs to, and not one minute longer. You’re dismissed.”

            “Gotcha!” Qingque responds, with a quick salute. Then she pauses. “Also, Boss… I don’t, like, blame you or anything, y’know? It was just sex, it happens sometimes. Doesn’t have to mean anything, right?”

            Fu Xuan’s mouth is dry. “…Right. It doesn’t mean anything.”

            “Great! See you around, Boss!” Qingque chirps, then pulls open the office door and skips through, idly singing to herself about paid leave.

            As the door slowly swings closed, then latches, Fu Xuan reminds herself that she’s doing the right thing. It’s either distance herself from Qingque or give up her position as master diviner, and she knows she’s far too selfish to ever do the latter. This is her one path forward.

            Any further thoughts on the matter come to a halt when a very specific alarm goes off on Fu Xuan’s phone. “Is it that time already…?” she mutters to herself, pulling out the device and checking its clock. Sure enough, it’s time for the next round of divinations to begin.

            When Fu Xuan is seated at her desk, the wall to her right is mostly taken up by a large window that offers a line of sight directly to the matrix of prescience. The massive structure is impossible to miss, taking up space right in the center of the Divination Commission. She tells anyone who asks that, since she can’t perform every divination personally, she likes to watch the process take place from afar while she focuses on administrative duties. The truth, however, is simply that she likes to have a bit of advance warning.

            She shuts off the alarm, then clears her desk, stuffing the paperwork into the desk drawer she keeps empty for this specific occasion. She doesn’t want to risk damaging anything sensitive. From the same drawer, she produces a small piece of wood that she places between her teeth. Then she locks the office door and takes a seat at her desk, bracing her hands against the surface. This ritual of hers is fairly new, but she already has it down by heart.

            Outside the window, the apparatus of the matrix of prescience starts to move. And right on cue, a spike of agony shoots through Fu Xuan’s skull.

            Every other sensation in her body is instantly drowned out by the all-consuming pain that emanates from the omniscia on her forehead. It feels like a jagged blade stabbing into her brain, sawing back and forth and shredding her flesh. After a few seconds, her mind is suddenly flooded with images of possible futures – not as clear as if she was the one doing the divination, but mere snippets and flashes that are just barely enough to recreate the full picture.

            Fu Xuan barely registers her body convulsing in her chair, eventually collapsing to the floor. The pain of the fall is a mere footnote compared to the torture she’s currently experiencing.

            And then, just as suddenly as it began, it’s over. The matrix of prescience grinds to a halt once more, its purpose complete. And eventually, Fu Xuan’s pain goes down and her vision slowly clears.

            As soon as she’s coherent enough, she pulls herself to her feet and grabs her phone from the desk drawer to check the time. It’s now fifteen minutes later. A standard divination takes around five minutes or less, which means it took her ten minutes to recover, an increase of one minute and forty-five seconds from last time. She quickly places her paperwork back on her desk, then spits out the piece of wood and returns it to the drawer.

            It’s not that she likes this particular side-effect of the Aeon-given technology in her head, but it’s usually a manageable one. Most of the time, she can pretty easily tough her way through the pain while performing a divination herself, leaving observers completely unaware of her plight. But with the high number of divinations she’s been ordering recently, she’s had less and less time to recover from it, and the episodes are getting worse. It’s not like she can slow the rate of divinations, either. The Luofu’s security is hanging by a thread; if they run into another serious threat, they’re finished. And it’s Fu Xuan’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen.

            But it’s alright. This is what she signed up for.

            Time to get back to work.

Chapter Text

As far as Qingque is concerned, her drunken hookup with Fu Xuan has had its pros and cons. The pros include the sheer hilarity of the entire concept, the novelty of getting to see a new (and kind of cute) side of her boss, and the salvaging of what would otherwise have been a real bore of an evening. And that’s not even mentioning the sex itself! Sex is great! She may not remember much of what it actually entailed, but at least she had it, and that’s a W in her book.

            Another pro is that Fu Xuan doesn’t seem to be interested in pursuing any sort of romance. And it seems a little heartless of Qingque to put that in the “pros” category, doesn’t it? Because while yes, she’s certainly looking at the master diviner in a new light these days, unable to comprehend how she ever considered Fu Xuan a “sexless blob” when she now knows exactly what noises her boss makes when—

            Ahem.

            The point is, Qingque knows she and Fu Xuan wouldn’t work together, not in the least because they’re boss and employee. Fu Xuan is elegant, dignified, sophisticated, (beautiful,) and Qingque is… Qingque. She meant what she said back at the Sleepless Earl: they would split within weeks, if not days. Qingque would drive her insane with her constant rambling of Celestial Jade, or frustrate her with all her joking around, or any of the million other possible reasons for Fu Xuan to dump her. That’s what happened with Qingque’s last girlfriend. And the one before that. And the one before that. And…

            So anyways, those are the pros. The cons, meanwhile, make up a pretty short list. Besides a pretty embarrassing early stroll back to her apartment the morning after, her complaints mostly relate to… the paid time off. Gasp! What a twist! But it is true. One of Qingque’s greatest loves has betrayed her.

            In theory, having money deposited into her bank account for doing nothing all day sounded like a fantastic idea at first. Qingque was convinced she had reached the pinnacle of her slacker career. In practice, though? She’s bored. The downside of living for so long is that she’s explored practically every nook and cranny of Starskiff Haven by now, so there isn’t much there to keep her attention. Normally she’d just play some Celestial Jade to pass the time, but all of her friends have stupid day jobs and aren’t available. She’s been reduced to curb-stomping randos in the online version of the game, but that just doesn’t fill her with the same sense of satisfaction. She needs the challenge! The battle of wits and intellect! The teeth-clenched final plays of the game! Without that, she’s… well, she’s where she is now: on only her third day of paid leave,  hoping for a fourth Abundance War just so that something interesting will happen.

            She ends up practically camping outside the Sleepless Earl a whole hour before her group’s usual meetup time, and busies herself by staring at the clock, skimming the extranet, and occasionally playing a few online Celestial Jade practice matches. About halfway through, Mengming starts shooting glares at her for taking up a table, so she orders a cup of tea and nurses it until everyone arrives.

            Xuxia and Sushang arrive in short order, bringing news that Little Tian is going to be running late. They take their seats, and the three of them pass the time by discussing what’s new in each of their lives. But while Qingque is invested in hearing about Sushang’s new training regimen, she promises, she really wishes Little Tian would get here so they can play some Celestial Jade already.

            “So, Qingque, what’s new with you?” Sushang asks her.

            “Absolutely nothing. Hooray for time off,” Qingque answers with all the enthusiasm she can muster.

            “I swear, either you got fired and you’re just lying about it, or the master diviner is going awfully soft on you,” Xuxia says.

            “Maybe Diviner Fu is just having a really good week?” Sushang wonders.

            “That, or Qingque actually listened to my advice and charmed her into giving her time off!” Xuxia snickers.

            Qingque’s face instantly goes red. “W-what? C’mon, that’s crazy talk. I’m sure Boss just wanted to reward me for all my, eh… hard work…”

            Xuxia props her chin up on her palm and leans forward. “Really? Are you sure? Because I don’t know if you’ve heard, but you and hard work go about as well together as sodium and water.”

            Qingque crosses her arms. “Are you using your new chemistry lessons to roast me?”

            “I am, yes.”

            Just then, Little Tian rounds the corner and takes a seat at the table. Qingque is saved!

            “Alright, I’m here. Now, will someone tell me why we’re ganging up on Qingque today?”  Little Tian asks.

            …Or not.

            “Diviner Fu is being really nice to her lately, and Xuxia thinks it’s because Qingque flirted with her,” Sushang helpfully summarizes.

            “Which I definitely did not,” Qingque adds. Honestly, she normally wouldn’t mind if her friends found out she slept with someone. But if they find out that she slept with this particular someone, they’ll never let her live it down. She’ll be thousands of years old, on the brink of mara, and they’ll still be teasing her for it. Of course, that’s assuming Fu Xuan doesn’t immediately kill her for letting the secret slip, which is also extremely likely.

            Little Tian hums to herself, clearly unconvinced. “Well, that’s quite the mystery,” she says. “But one that can be solved easily enough, I think. I actually happened to see Diviner Fu near the market stalls on my way over. We can just ask her.”

            What. “Wait, really?” Qingque asks, incredulous. “You’re sure you saw her and not some evil twin version of her that loves fun and spends time outdoors?”

            “Unless there’s some other vertically challenged person on the Luofu with pink hair and a rock in their forehead, it was definitely her,” Little Tian responds.

            Qingque shakes her head. “No way.”

            “I believe it,” Xuxia says.

            “Why?”

            “Because I can see her right now, and she’s headed this way.”

            “WHAT?” Qingque cries. This is supposed to be her time off, she shouldn’t have to interact with her boss! That’s one of her core personal rules! She turns around in her seat to see if she’s completely doomed, or if her friends are playing a cruel joke on her. Unfortunately, the former is true. Qingque’s eyes are quickly drawn to a certain woman in pretty black, purple, and white robes strolling down the street. She’s carrying a shopping bag and perusing some food stalls. Qingque curses her past self for encouraging Fu Xuan to get out more. Still, she’s pretty far away. Maybe she’ll pass them by without noticing them.

            Then Sushang stand up from her seat and yells “HEY, LADY FU XUAN! OVER HERE!”

            To add insult to injury, Fu Xuan instantly locks eyes with Qingque, then abandons her shopping and strolls over to the assembled group. Each of her footsteps is a tick in the countdown to Qingque’s untimely demise. All to quickly, she’s arrived at the table and is sizing up Qingque and her friends. “…Greetings,” she says a bit awkwardly.

            “Heyyyy, Boss,” Qingque forces out. “I’m surprised to see you out here. Work’s all done for today?”

            Fu Xuan sighs, but she’s smiling. “Qingque, you know as well as I do that these days, my work is never done. Nonetheless, I’ve gotten ahead enough on most of the major reconstruction projects that I feel comfortable taking the evening off to restock my kitchen.”

            Qingque glances inside Fu Xuan’s shopping bag. It contains a number of instant meals, some chocolate boxes, and a huge bag of coffee grounds. “Oof. Guess the grind’s keeping you pretty busy, huh?”

            “Indeed,” Fu Xuan nods. “But enough about me. I’m sure you’re enjoying your time off, yes?”

            “Yeah, about that,” Xuxia interrupts, and Qingque wants to sink into the floor. “Why did you give her that time off, anyway? Because she doesn’t want to tell us.”

            A little bit of pink tinging Fu Xuan’s cheeks is the only crack in her calm demeanor. “Ah. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, Miss…?”

            “Xuxia. S-ranked starskiff pilot, A-ranked damage assessment expert, B-ranked ship mechanic, et cetera. And that there’s Sushang and Little Tian,” she says gesturing to the others at the table.

            “Hi,” Sushang squeaks. “It’s an honor.”

            “The honor is all mine,” Fu Xuan says. “As for you question, Miss Xuxia… recent developments necessitated placing Qingque on leave.”

            Little Tian wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at Qingque.

            “A series of new workplace regulations have recently been enacted,” Fu Xuan continues. “Diviner Qingque now falls into one of several groups who require special accommodations, including a cap on how many hours she can be expected to work per pay period. If she continued to work her usual hours, she would quickly exceed that cap, and I’d be violating a labor law. This was my solution. I’ll be adjusting her schedule going forward, so this should be a one-time event.”

            This, Qingque knows, is absolute nonsense. But it seems to be working, because the others are nodding in response. “I suppose that makes sense,” Little Tian remarks. “But how come Qingque didn’t tell us this herself?”

            “She likely wasn’t aware of my reasons,” Fu Xuan answers. “I did attempt explain all of this to her previously, but given that she was playing on her phone all the while, I doubt she actually heard what I was saying.”

            “Whoops,” Qingque puts on her best innocent grin and scratches the back of her head. “Guess you know me pretty well, huh, Boss?”

            “I suppose so, yes.”

            Xuxia smirks. “Yeah, that’s part of why we thought you two were fu—”

            Qingque quickly slaps a hand over Xuxia’s mouth. “Haha, anyways… we were about to play some rounds of Celestial Jade, so…”

            Fu Xuan raises an eyebrow, studying the table before her, where Qingque has already set up the beginnings of a game. “So, this is all-consuming pastime that takes priority over your work?” she observes, running her finger along the edge of the table. “It’s more intricate than I would have thought.”

            “Lady Fu Xuan, you’ve never played Celestial Jade before?” Sushang asks.

            “Never had the time, need, nor inclination.”

            “Then you should totally play with us!” Sushang exclaims. “It’s so much fun, you’ll love it! Um… if you want to, that is. No pressure!”

            Fu Xuan considers this for a moment. “While I wouldn’t say I’m adequately prepared to actually play a game, I suppose I have the time to watch a round or two,” she decides.

            Okay, this is fine. All Qingque has to do is play a couple of shoddy matches, then she can go back to spending her paid leave all by her lonesome, free from the teasing of her game buddies and the supervision of her boss.

            Then Fu Xuan puts on a smile and adds, “Not to mention, I’m looking forward to seeing the supposed master of Celestial Jade at work.” The inquisitive look in her eyes makes Qingque’s heart do a somersault.

            Okay. Now Qingque has to win.

. . .

            Over the next half hour, Qingque plays like a woman possessed. She puts melds together as naturally as she breathes, and every risk she takes seems to pay off. All this, despite how hyper-aware she is of Fu Xuan’s presence just over her shoulder. The master diviner is currently seated right beside her, and has been studying Qingque’s moves with the same focus that she usually gives to divining the fate of the Luofu. Normally, having someone this close to her would completely ruin Qingque’s focus, but for some reason, she’s playing better than ever. Weird.

            Eventually, Qingque wins the third round in a row by revealing her complete hand with a smug, “Read ‘em and weep, ladies!”

            “No way! I call bull!” Xuxia playfully shouts. Then she points at Fu Xuan. “Hey, master diviner! You’re slipping her extra tiles, aren’t you?”

            “I assure you, I would never compromise the sanctity of a fair competition,” Fu Xuan says solemnly. “It would appear that Qingque is simply… better than you.”

            A chorus of oohhhhhhs erupts from Sushang and Little Tian, and Xuxia sheepishly signals her surrender. Qingque, meanwhile, smiles to herself. The master diviner thinks she’s smart!

            “Alright, as much as I’d like to play another round, I don’t think my ego can survive getting crushed four times in a row,” Little Tian sighs. “It’s getting late, should we call it a night?”

            “Actually,” Fu Xuan interjects, “I think I’ve picked up enough of the rules of this game now. May I play a round? I’d like to see how well my skills match up against Qingque’s.”

            Qingque’s eyebrows raise so high they feel like they’re going to launch themselves off her head. She really wasn’t expecting this. “Uh… yeah, that’s fine,” she says, trying to get her brain working again.

            “Yeah, you two can even use the special rules Qingque made for a two-player round!” Sushang adds. “That way, you can really go head-to-head!”

            “That sounds perfect,” Fu Xuan says, standing up from her seat as Qingque’s side (which she feels a twinge of disappointment at) and takes her place at the opposite side of the table.

            Qingque hurries to set up the board again, just to keep her hands busy. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you, y’know?” she says with a cockiness she doesn’t fully feel.

            “I would expect nothing less,” Fu Xuan cooly responds.

            The rest of the group move their chairs to the side so they can watch the upcoming game. “Hey, how about we make this a little more interesting?” Little Tian proposes. “Both of you up for a wager?”

            “Sure,” Qingque says, and a moment later, Fu Xuan nods in agreement.

            Xuxia and Little Tian quickly exchange a suspicious-looking glance before the latter says, “How about… loser treats the winner to a meal?”

            Qingque knows her buddies are up to something, she’s just not sure what yet. But before she can say anything, Fu Xuan nods and murmurs, “I accept.”

            Alright, then. “Just warning you, Boss, you might end up regretting that. You’re gonna be treating me to a full-course meal at the swankiest place in the delve soon!” Qingque promises.

            “So confident,” Fu Xuan says with a small smile. “I suppose we’ll see whether or not it’s earned.”

            And with Xuxia, Sushang, and Little Tian sitting at rapt attention, they begin.

            True to her word, Qingque gives it her all. And it’s a good thing she does, because Fu Xuan is unlike any other opponent she’s ever faced before. The master diviner has a poker face made of solid rock, and Qingque finds it next to impossible to get a good read on her. So she’s got to rely solely on observing which tiles Fu Xuan is discarding, which only serves to tell her what the master diviner isn’t doing. Making things worse is the realization that Fu Xuan just spent the last half hour closely observing Qingque’s playstyle, and has probably memorized all her best tricks. Qingque feels like she’s racing starskiffs, trying to outpace an opponent she’s can’t even see. She’s never felt more alive in her whole life.

            At one point, it’s Fu Xuan’s turn, and she’s taking her time deciding on her next move. As she scrutinizes her current set of tiles, Sushang leans in and whispers, “Um, Lady Fu… what are you doing?”

            “Simply pondering the myriad possibilities through which the favorable threads of destiny may align themselves,” Fu Xuan responds, not looking away from her tiles. “Only when all the variables have been weighed, may I act with absolute certainty.”

            Seeing Sushang’s confused expression, Qingque chuckles. “Looks like she’s shifted into work mode. That’s Boss-speak for ‘I’m thinking, be patient’.”

            “Indeed,” Fu Xuan says, discarding a tile.

            The previous three games Qingque played this evening all lasted for around ten minutes each. Her match with Fu Xuan takes longer than all of them combined, each participant carefully evaluating each possible move before taking action. The long pauses make Qingque want to squirm in her seat, but she resists the urge. For all she knows, Fu Xuan is just a single turn away from winning the round.

            Finally, as the artificial sun nears the horizon, Qingque is close to putting a hand together. Victory is in spitting distance. Here comes the most teeth-clenching part of the game: getting all the tiles she needs into her possession without showing her hand too early. The rest of the group, as well as a fair few patrons of the teahouse who have gathered around, watch with baited breath as Qingque cautiously discards a tile.

            Then, after a moment of contemplation, Fu Xuan nods and looks up into Qingque’s eyes. “I concede. You win,” she says.

            Qingque blinks. “What?”

            “The hand you are constructing consists of three pongs, one chow, and the eyes of east wind, correct?”

            That is correct. “H-how’d you know?”

            “A simple combination of deduction and some knowledge of your preferred play style. It took some time to narrow down the most likely possibilities,” Fu Xuan answers. “But more to the point, all the tiles you need to acquire to win the match are currently in the discard pile. It will take you a maximum of three turns to achieve victory. I, meanwhile, will require a minimum of five turns to complete my hand. As such, winning is impossible at this stage. I concede.”

            Sushang shakes Qingque’s shoulder enthusiastically. “Holy cow, Qingque, you won!” she exclaims.

            Qingque finally allows herself to take a deep breath and relaxes her stiff posture. “Well, Boss, I would’ve liked to have seen the look on your face when I showed you my hand, but… this was still a pretty awesome match,” she admits. “You’re really good at this.”

            “As are you,” Fu Xuan responds. “It was quite a struggle for me to deduce your strategy, and even once I had, you still managed to outmaneuver me. You’ve clearly honed your skills.” Then she reaches an open hand across the table. “Good game, Diviner Qingque.”

            Qingque reaches out with her own hand and shakes Fu Xuan’s. She privately treasures the feeling of contact between them, and hopes for her own safety that her impure thoughts don’t show on her face. “Good game, Lady Fu. This was a great time!” she says with a big smile.

            “And now that that’s over…” Little Tian adds, “I believe it’s time for the results of the wager?”

            Qingque leaps from her seat and throws her arms in the air. “Sweet! Free food!” she cries, then points at Fu Xuan. “Thanks for the gourmet dinner, Boss!”

            Fu Xuan laughs a little to herself. “Yes, I suppose I did lose fair and square. Will you be cashing in on the free meal now, or would you prefer to wait until another day?”

            Qingque shrugs. “Well, I haven’t had dinner yet tonight, so… might as well go right now, I guess!”

            “Wait, hold on,” Xuxia says, a confused look on her face. “You were waiting out here for us for an hour, and you didn’t think to maybe get some dinner?”

            “I did not, no,” Qingque confirms. As if on cue, her stomach lets out an impoverished-sounding rumble.

            “Well, we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?” Fu Xuan decides, standing from her chair. “Let’s get moving. You can decide where you wish to eat on the way.”

. . .

            Qingque selects their destination by pulling out her phone and looking up the highest-rated, most expensive restaurant in the area. When she and Fu Xuan arrive, she instantly regrets it.

            All of the staff are dressed to the nines, the intricate tile floors are shiny and spotless, there are crystal chandeliers and live music, and conversation amongst the patrons is hushed and polite. Qingque almost wants to change her mind and suggest they leave. But before she can speak up, they’re at their table and ordering, and it’s too late. But it’s not too bad – all she has to do is stuff her face with enough fancy food to make the momentary discomfort worth it.

            Qingque orders a serving of everything that looks good, while Fu Xuan immediately goes for the sweets. They eat their respective meals in silence for a while. Qingque is kind of hoping that Fu Xuan will say something first to break the tension, but no such luck. She fiddles with her chopsticks for a moment, picking up a piece of food and then dropping it back on her plate.

            Finally, Fu Xuan clears her throat. “Qingque, you seem uncomfortable. Is this venue not to your liking?”

            “Um… a little,” Qingque murmurs. “Just not used to how fancy this is. I guess this kind of place is more your speed, huh?”

            Fu Xuan shakes her head. “Not really. It’s true that I’ve dined in luxury before, but I don’t make a habit of it. I find it to be a grossly unnecessary indulgence, counterproductive to my job and purpose.” She rubs the stone on her forehead and winces. “Not to mention that I have several not-so-fond memories of entertaining some truly insufferable bureaucrats and foreign dignitaries in places such as this.”

            Qingque puts down her chopsticks. “Wait, so if I don’t like it here, and you don’t like it here, then why are we still here?”

            Fu Xuan considers that, then gestures to her plate. “They have sweets?”

            “They do have sweets,” Qingque admits. “…Can I try some?”

            The conversation flows smoothly after that. Qingque describes the process by which she revitalized Celestial Jade by accident, and not only does Fu Xuan listen, she actually looks impressed. Fu Xuan then launches into her own explanation of how she decided to become a diviner, and how her thirst for knowledge led her to eventually leave her family on the Xianzhou Yuque and become the master diviner of the Luofu. She’s pretty vague on some of the details – Qingque is pretty confident there’s a more to the story of the gem in her forehead than “I received it one day” – but that’s not really any of her business. She’s having a good time tonight, and she’s doesn’t really feel like cracking open any serious conversation topics.

            After Fu Xuan is finished telling her story, Qingque cracks a smile and says, “Y’know, Boss, I’m thinking we have a whole lot more in common than I thought.”

            Fu Xuan raises an eyebrow. “How so?”

            “Well, we both have a purpose, don’t we? One that we’ve worked towards our whole lives, and we’ve never let anything get in our way,” Qingque explains. “The only difference is, mine is Celestial Jade, and yours is…”

            “…Protecting the billions of lives onboard the Luofu and beyond?” Fu Xuan finishes in a monotonal voice.

            “Yeah, that!” Qingque says. “We’re two peas in a pod, you and I!”

            “I suppose so,” Fu Xuan mutters, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Qingque decides to drop the subject.

            From there, the conversation moves to smaller matters, like Qingque’s opinions on Mr. Xiyan’s stories, Fu Xuan’s candy flavor rankings, and both of them complaining about how terrible the UI in the latest Jade Abacus patch is. At one point, Fu Xuan tells a story about one of her delivery packages being stolen and her efforts to get it back, and the way she spits fury in such a deadpan tone has Qingque in stitches. At some point, Qingque realizes she’s never going to finish all the food she’s ordered, so she lets Fu Xuan steal some bites off her plates. Eventually, the two of them start discussing workplace drama at the Divination Commission – which, in practice, takes the form of complaining about colleagues they don’t like.

            “I don’t care for Lin Qiang,” Fu Xuan admits.

            “Ha!” Qingque guffaws. “Same, but honestly I kinda figured you’d love that kiss-ass.”

            “He’s certainly a competent diviner, and he takes his duties seriously, but…” Fu Xuan cradles her forehead in her palm. “He is constantly requesting my input on the most minute issues! He’s perfectly capable of doing the job himself, he doesn’t need to be knocking on my office door every five minutes.”

            “Oof,” Qingque says. “You want to know what I always do if I get a knock on my apartment door?”

            “What?”

            “I put on a coat!” Qingque declares proudly. “That way, if it turns out to be someone I like, I can say, ‘Oh, I just got back and I haven’t taken off my coat yet!’ But if it’s someone I don’t like, I can say ‘Oh, I’m just on my way out the door, I can’t talk right now!’”

            “Interesting,” Fu Xuan muses. “Would it really work for me?”

            Qingque shrugs. “I mean, you’d probably be saying something like, ‘Oh, I’ve got arbiter-general business, I gotta go!’ or something like that. Which is a way better excuse, honestly.”

            “I see,” Fu Xuan murmurs.

            The conversation is interrupted when their waiter drops by with a tray of unopened wine bottles. “May I interest either of you ladies in some refreshments?” he asks.

            Fu Xuan’s face instantly turns a bright red. “You know what? I think we’d better pass,” she squeaks out.

. . .

            They end up leaving the restaurant not long after that, because it’s getting late and it’s a workday for Fu Xuan tomorrow. Qingque exits with about eight containers of take-home leftovers, and Fu Xuan exits with a significantly lighter wallet.

            As they stroll down the streets, Fu Xuan with her shopping and Qingque with her leftovers, there’s a burning question on the latter’s mind. “Hey, Boss?”

            Fu Xuan looks at Qingque. The master diviner’s amber eyes reflect the light of the lanterns lining the local shops. “Yes?”

            Qingque briefly contemplates how to word her next sentence, before deciding to just go for it. “…Was this a date?”

            Fu Xuan freezes, and her eyes go wide. She’s silent for a full ten seconds. Then she mutters “…Shit,” under her breath.

            “…Boss?”

            “Engaging in an entertaining pastime, followed by a dinner which one party paid for. Tonight has had the necessary composition for a date,” she murmurs to herself. Then she makes eye contact with Qingque again. “My most profuse apologies.”

            “Ooookay,” Qingque says. “Why are you apologizing?”

            “Because I promised myself I would distance myself from you,” Fu Xuan groans. “I couldn’t even last a week, because Sushang called me over, and then I got sucked in and… and I can’t keep doing this! I’m your boss!”

            Okay, now Qingque’s a little confused. “But… aren’t you not my boss anymore? Isn’t that what the whole reorganization thing you’re doing is for?”

            Fu Xuan sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Well, yes, technically… what of it?”

            “Well…” Qingque begins, moving her weight back and forth between her feet, “…turns out you’re an okay way of, like… alleviating boredom. You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. And I get that you don’t want to get caught ‘fraternizing’ or whatever, but I guess I can keep it a secret if you want to do this again sometime…?”

            Fu Xuan considers this. “We can’t let this get serious,” she says.

            “Way ahead of you.”

            “We can’t have a repeat of… that night.”

            “Got it,” Qingque says, trying to hide her slight disappointment.

            “Your new chain of command should be finalized by Monday, I’ll expect you back at work then. Once that’s complete, we can start plans on our next… outing,” Fu Xuan states. “And… I would be alright with you telling someone about this, as long as they’re trustworthy. It would put my mind at ease for you to have someone to confide in about this matter.”

            “Sounds good!” Qingque says, already trying to decide which of her buddies will tease her the least about this. “Anyways, now that that’s sorted out… do you want me to walk you back to your place?”

            “That… would be inappropriate,” Fu Xuan murmurs, blushing.

            “Gotcha,” Qingque says.

            The pair say their goodbyes and part. As Qingue walks away with her hard-earned food, she mentally pats herself on the back for how she handled that. She’s got a kind-of-sort-of casual girlfriend now, no feelings included, which means no hearts broken when they inevitably split. Now all Qingque has to do is avoid getting attached. And how hard can that be?

. . .

Chat Log: Qingque -> Xuxia

sooooo

how was ur date??

fuck off, u did this one purpose didn’t u

*on

u played me

hey, i calls em how i sees em

u needed the help

so how’d it go??

…rly good

HAH

no thx 2 u

ALL thanks to me, tyvm

so now we’ve got you a new lady friend

for now i guess

nothing serious

boo! where’s ur confidence??

lil tian and i gave u a PERFECT setup

don’t waste it

go get that master diviner pussy

DUDE

(or girldick, we don’t judge here)

oooohhhh im getting a sudden vision of the future

it says ur a shithead

that’s not how divination works

how would u know huh??

i have a degree in theoretical probability calculation

of fucking course u do, hetero

good night

night! i hope u dream of pink-haired shorties

well maybe i will

[Qingque has gone offline]

Chapter Text

The moment Fu Xuan wakes up in the morning, she knows that today is going to be a terrible day.

            Generally, she tries to avoid such frivolous divination – it is taboo, after all. But every once in a while, the omniscia in her forehead will leak some premonitions of the future into her brain, along with the usual pain and agony. And today, it’s practically screaming directly into her mind that disaster is about to strike.

            In addition to that, Fu Xuan just feels terrible. It’s just one of those days when her limbs feel too long, the clothes on her skin are irritating, and the inside of her mouth feels off for reasons she can’t put her finger on. It’s incredibly frustrating, but she can usually fight her way through the energy-sapping wrongness of her own body long enough for her to do her job, clock out, and go home to down sweet tea until she’s more sugar than human. Unfortunately, she’s busier these days than she’s ever been, and getting some time to herself to recharge seems unlikely. And with a prophesized disaster on the horizon, she’s going to be lucky if she’s back home before two in the morning.

            As Fu Xuan lays in bed, contemplating the futility of calling in sick to avoid what’s destined to happen, her eyes happen to fall on the case of Celestial Jade tiles sitting on her bedside table. She keeps meaning to get herself a shelf to store those on.

            They were a gift from Qingque. She and her (girlfriend? acquaintance? friend with benefits?) subordinate have gone on many outings in the couple weeks since that first impromptu date, and some of them have been Celestial Jade-related. Scheduling these outings around Fu Xuan’s schedule has been difficult, and they’re cancelled as many plans as they’ve followed through on, but Qingque always takes it in stride. Whenever Fu Xuan informs Qingque that an urgent matter will require her attention for the evening, she’ll look disappointed for a moment, then just smile and say, “Okay! Guess I’ll get started on that novel I bought yesterday, then,” or something along those lines.

After one of their successful outings, Qingque kindly bought Fu Xuan her own set of Celestial Jade tiles, so she could practice the game on her own. (Fu Xuan, for her part, pointedly ignored the very obvious “SALE” sticker on the case Qingque eventually chose.) But instead of storing it in a closet or something along those lines, Fu Xuan elected to store it in her room. She’s come to realize that her bedchambers, while perfectly adequate for their intended purpose of containing a bed, are rather barren otherwise. So she decided that the case of tiles would be the first spot of color in her formerly monochrome room.

            Looking at the case also reminds Fu Xuan that she has another outing with Qingque planned for tonight. The mere thought of it is enough to make the pain of the omniscia a little less intense. Perhaps, Lan willing, if the inevitable disaster today wraps itself up quickly, she can cheer herself back up by spending some time with her favorite slacker. She can only hope.

. . .

            Fu Xuan spends the entire day on edge. She jumps at every knock at her office door. She drinks so much coffee that her hands shake. She double, triple, and quadruple checks the security checkpoints around the Divination Commission. She even goes down to the Matrix of Prescience Ultima to perform a danger-sensing divination herself, instead of delegating it like she normally does these days. She dismisses the staff around the matrix, leaving her in solitude as she activates the device and peers behind the veil of possible futures. The resulting pain is so intense that she loses consciousness for twelve minutes and forty-two seconds. When she finally allows the staff to return, she desperately hides her weakness while repeating to them the same result she saw: no danger on the horizon. The Luofu is safe for the foreseeable future.

            This, of course, does nothing to calm Fu Xuan’s nerves. After all, she didn’t see the Stellaron crisis coming, either, and look how that turned out. So, she quintuple checks the security checkpoints, memorizes the files on known Disciples of Sanctus Medicus still at large, and finishes off the pot of coffee in the break room single-handedly. As she takes her last sip, she spies Qingque out of the corner of her eye and nearly spits it out.

            “Hey, Boss,” Qingque awkwardly waves.

            “Qingque,” Fu Xuan answers, quickly composing herself. “May I be privy to the purpose of this meeting?”

            “So, uh…” Qingque trails off, tugging at one of her sleeves. “The rest of the diviners are kinda worried about you? Or, well, worried that you might take one of their heads off. You’ve been acting really weird all day. We’re thinking maybe you should take a break, or something.”

            “Preposterous,” Fu Xuan scoffs. “Who actually thinks this?”

            “…Everyone on staff,” Qingque says. “Except for Lin Qiang, and I’m pretty sure that’s because he’s physically incapable of criticizing you.”

            That is quite a few people. “Well, let them know their concerns are unfounded. I’m feeling fine,” Fu Xuan says, beginning to make her way to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to work.”

            Qingque quickly steps into her way. “Nuh uh.”

            Fu Xuan’s brain has to process that for a moment. “What do you mean, ‘nuh uh’?”

            Qingque puts her hands on her hips. “My new supervisor was very clear. I’m not supposed to come back empty-handed.”

            “I’m the master diviner. You can’t keep me from my work.”

            “What’cha gonna do,” Qingque smirks, “fire me?”

            …That’s a low blow. Fu Xuan seethes silently.

            “That’s what I thought,” Qingque says smugly. “So you’d better take a page from me and do some good ol’ slacking off, huh?”

            Fu Xuan takes a deep breath and reminds herself that she does actually like Qingque most of the time. “Very well. I will pack up my work. Consider me banished from the Divination Commission premises until the end of the day.”

            “Yessssss,” Qingque whispers to herself and pumps her fist, clearly happy with her successful task. Then she turns back to Fu Xuan. “So… I guess I’ll see you after work, right?” she asks. For the first time in the conversation, her smile seems genuine.

            It’s almost enough to make Fu Xuan forget why she was angry. “See you then,” she responds quietly.

            (And then Fu Xuan packs up her work and catches the next starskiff over to the Seat of Divine Foresight, where she spends the rest of the work day planning reconstruction and holo-calling the other charioteers, secure in the knowledge that she did not technically lie to Qingque. You know, like an adult.)

. . .

            Much to Fu Xuan’s consternation, the prophesized disaster does not come about during normal work hours. Instead, the entire day passes by pretty uneventfully, which is just about the most horrible thing that could possibly have happened. Because this means that, instead of calamity striking while she’s in the office, with her staff on hand to handle the crisis, it’s going to strike while she’s out for dinner with Qingque.

            Which is a pain, because her evenings with Qingque have actually been quite enjoyable. They went to see an opera two weeks ago, and Qingque was surprisingly at rapt attention for the entire performance. (“Ooh, I can tell why this is your favorite part, Boss. Love the symbolism and stuff!” “Thank you, but please lower your voice. It’s only polite.”)  Last week, they attended a Celestial Jade tournament, which Qingque won handily, of course. (“Did you see me? Did you see me?” “Yes, Qingque, I saw you. You played very well. Congratulations.”) And just a couple days prior, Fu Xuan was catcalled by a man on the street, and Qingque responded by nailing him in the forehead with a jade tile. (“Woohoo, bullseye! Did you see the look on his face? Priceless! That’ll show him for being a creep!” “Pfft, hehe—er, I mean, nice throw. But we should probably vacate the premises, the commotion is beginning to attract some Cloud Knights.”)

            She almost considers cancelling their dinner tonight and holing herself up in the Seat of Divine Foresight, waiting for the inevitable crisis. But when she imagines Qingque’s disappointed face, the thought is immediately struck from her mind.

            Instead, the pair get food from Tall Auntie’s food stall in Aurum Alley, then sit and watch the recordings of Mr. Xiyan’s stories. Qingque suggests that they use predictive reasoning to guess how the stories are going to end, and although Fu Xuan agrees, she doesn’t really have the spare mental energy to focus on their entertainment too much. Qingque probably realizes this too, because about halfway through she stops making real guesses and starts suggesting the most outlandish things possible. (“No, I don’t think the hero is going to marry the dragon, Qingque. That would be outrageous!” “Do you know for sure? Do you?”)

            After the food is consumed and the show is over, Fu Xuan and Qingque stroll back to Central Starskiff haven together. Fu Xuan eyes every dark corner and blind spot for any sign of a threat, aware she needs to be able to take action in seconds once disaster strikes. She’s sure she spies an Antimatter Legion soldier in a shop window, but a second later she realizes it’s just a trick of the light. Nevertheless, she remains vigilant, scanning the area around them for anything amiss.

            Then Qingque nonchalantly slides her hand into Fu Xuan’s, then leans against her so the two are shoulder-to-shoulder as they walk.

            Fu Xuan’s brain struggles to reboot itself as she looks down at their intertwined fingers. “…Why are you doing that?” she eventually asks.

            Qingque shrugs. “I dunno. You’re warm.” She leans in closer. “I like being warm.”

            Fu Xuan raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

            “Is there something wrong with that?” Qingque asks defensively. “Seriously, what’s up with you today? You’re even more pissy than that time I filled the break room coffee maker with decaf by mistake.”

            “…Nothing, I’m sorry. Everything’s fine. I’m fine,” Fu Xuan insists, tearing her gaze away from Qingque and back to the streets of Starskiff Haven. She needs a new conversation topic. “Tell me about work. How are things progressing with your new supervisor?”

            “Fine, I guess,” Qingque answers. “I mean, Jingzhai’s smart and good at her job and all, but she’s such a wet blanket sometimes.”

            “Oh?”

            “She won’t stop trying to give me depressing old person advice,” Qingque continues. “Stuff about hardening your heart and how ‘long-life species are not built for love’. Super dramatic.”

            “I see.”

             “But when she isn’t saying stuff like that, it’s mostly—hey! Boss, you listening?” Qingque says, pouting.

            Fu Xuan turns her attention back to Qingque. “Hm? What was that?”

            “Geez, you really zoned out. That’s normally the sort of thing I do,” Qingque says. She follows it up with a chuckle, but Fu Xuan can tell there’s some seriousness behind it. “Come on, what’s on your mind?”

            Fu Xuan considers her options. “…I think it would be best if you returned to my residence with me tonight, if you would be amenable.”

            Qingque’s cheeks turn pink, and her eyebrows shoot straight upwards. A moment later, her face morphs into a sly smile. “Wow, Boss… how forward of you…”

            Fu Xuan instantly regrets how she worded her last statement. “Not like that,” she says firmly. “I just want to be able to keep an eye on you.”

            Qingque looks a little confused. “Okay? Is this some sort of new dirty talk, or…?”

            Fu Xuan shakes her head. “Never mind, let’s just go.” She increases her speed of her stride to a brisk pace, pulling Qingque along by their still-joined hands.

. . .

            Fu Xuan’s thought process is simple: the prophesized disaster is supposed to occur before the end of the day. Such a calamity is likely to involve mass panic, in which it is often easy to become disoriented and lost. Fu Xuan does not want to have to worry about where Qingque is, and whether or not she’s safe. Therefore, it is logical for Qingque to remain at Fu Xuan’s residence (with its high-quality construction and security systems) for the time being, at least until the threat of danger has passed. It all makes perfect sense.

            …Or at least, Fu Xuan thought it made perfect sense. Because as she explains all of this to Qingque herself, the pigtailed girl is staring at her like she’s just grown an extra head.

            The two of them are in Fu Xuan’s living room. Like most of her house, it’s rather empty. The walls are a subtle off-white, the furniture is comfortable yet plain, and the only things on the coffee table are old books of poetry. There’s a plastic plant on the windowsill that’s been there for a few years now. She and Yukong each bought one for the other after a successful major trade deal, knowing that neither of them had the spare time necessary to keep a real plant alive. The color of its leaves reminds Fu Xuan of Qingque’s uniform.

            The real Qingque, meanwhile, appears to be having an aneurysm on Fu Xuan’s couch. “Boss, permission to say something that would normally get me fired?” she asks.

            Fu Xuan, sitting on the opposite couch, nods. “Permission granted.”

            “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!” Qingque exclaims. “There’s not gonna be some mysterious crisis just because the shiny rock in your forehead said so!”

            “This ‘shiny rock’ is the most advanced piece of technology on the Luofu,” Fu Xuan retorts. “It does not simply make mistakes.”

            “But the Matrix of Prescience said everything was a-ok,” Qingque points out. “You even did the divination yourself!”

            “The Matrix has had blind spots before. It’s possible that this is one of them.”

            “So, what? You’re just gonna keep me here? No sexytimes or anything? Come on, Boss!” Qingque says indignantly.

            “You only need to stay here until midnight, once the danger has passed,” Fu Xuan explains. “If, after that point, nothing has happened, you’ll be safe to leave. You can even say ‘I told you so’, if you wish.”

            Qingque’s eyes are half-lidded as she stares Fu Xuan down. “Alright, Boss. I know what’s really going on.”

            “Oh? Do enlighten me.”

            “You’ve been working too hard, and it’s making you go crazy!” Qingque confidently declares. “You’re just being paranoid ‘cause you’re tired. Trust me, I’ve been there. One time, I stayed up for four days straight, and I was convinced that my mailman was a bug monster plotting to kill me and eat my eyeballs.”

            Fu Xuan sighs. “Qingque, this is no laughing matter.”

            “Neither was the bug-mailman!”

            “You could be in serious danger.”

            “Psh, you’re overreacting,” Qingque says. “Nothing’s going to happen to me if you turn your back for two seconds.”

            “You don’t know that,” Fu Xuan asserts firmly, leaning forward and pointing at Qingque. “And I, for one, don’t want to risk anything happening to you. You’re too precious to me to lose like that.”

            Qingque tenses up ever so slightly. “Woah, you’re being kind of… intense here, Boss. Almost like we were a real couple…” she chuckles awkwardly.

            This, Fu Xuan recognizes, is somewhat of a cliff’s edge, and Qingque has placed control of their destination in her hands. Fu Xuan in tempted to drive them both over the threshold, taking a chance that she might find something incredible on the other side…

            …But as she observes Qingque’s tense, almost defensive posture, she instead decides to back away from the edge. “How amusing,” she remarks, “but irrelevant. I’m simply concerned for your safety. I don’t see why you fail to understand that.”

            Qingque sighs. “I keep telling you, nothing’s going to happen! Stop acting weird!”

            “’Acting weird’? I’m simply taking precautions.”

            “Boss, you have got to stop taking everything so seriously all the time!” Qingque says. “You’re so much more fun when you just let yourself relax, y’know? But then you get like this, and it’s like I’m talking to a robot!”

            “Well, I’m sorry that my attitude isn’t to your liking, but I happen to take matters of security very seriously,” Fu Xuan retorts.

            “Yeah, but even still! A little humor now and then never hurt anybody!”

            “Humor has no place in matters such as this. I’m trying to be professional.”

            “Uuuggghhhhh,” Qingque groans, dragging her hand down her face. “Who care about professionalism? Our jobs aren’t that big a deal, anyway!”

            “I am the Master Diviner of the Xianzhou Luofu,” Fu Xuan glowers. “My job is, as a matter of fact, that big a deal.”

            “I mean yeah, you’re pretty important and all, but no one’s going to die if you have a quick snooze on the job or something,” Qingque says.

            …Fu Xuan sees red. Before she can stop herself, she slams her fists on the table between them and shouts, “People have died, Qingque!”

            Qingque blinks. “…What?”

            “Do you even know how many people we lost in the Stellaron Crisis?”

            “N-no, I guess I don’t.”

            “And neither does anyone else,” Fu Xuan snaps. “The Ten-Lords Commission is still tallying the dead. And every one of them – every single innocent life cut short – is on my head.”

            “Boss, calm down,” Qingque pleads. “Just because you didn’t predict it—”

            “No, I didn’t just fail to predict it. I caused it,” Fu Xuan interrupts. “Thirty years ago, it was one of my last-ditch plans that caused the Rainbow Arbiter to win us the Third Abundance War. And as a result, thousands of our own troops were massacred in the collateral damage. And because Jing Yuan took responsibility for it all, I was freed from the rightful consequences of my actions. But that wasn’t enough for me, oh no.” She stands up from the couch and starts pacing back and forth. “Clearly, I hadn’t hurt nearly enough people! So, of course, one of the people killed was a healer named Yufei. Her lover was a woman named Dan Shu - the same woman who subsequently worked her way up to the title of Chief Alchemist, and then used her influence to invite the Antimatter Legion aboard the Luofu and kill thousands more. All because she hated the force that took her lover away. All because of me,” she spits. Then she rounds on Qingque. “So how dare you belittle my work! How else am I supposed to protect everyone on the Luofu from the weight of my sins?”

            Fu Xuan stops and takes a breath. As she does, she realizes that Qingque has pressed herself against the back of the couch, and her face has gone pale. She’s curled herself up, and her hands are quivering. “Please, stop,” she whimpers. “You’re scaring me, Boss.”

            Instantly, Fu Xuan’s fury leaves her. It leaves behind a guilt so heavy it chains her to the floor. “I-I’m sorry…” she stammers out. She takes a few steps back, and holds her hands up nonthreateningly. All she can think is, Is this how her family used to treat her?

            Slowly, as if breaking out of a layer of dried mud, Qingque uncurls herself and slips off the couch. She looks at the floor, hugging herself. “…I think maybe I should go,” she murmurs.

            Fu Xuan swallows. “…Maybe that would be for the best,” she says.

            Qingque slowly shuffles out of the room. Fu Xuan doesn’t bother giving her directions to the front door. She already knows where it is, doesn’t she? All thanks to Fu Xuan’s ego. The door shuts behind her, and the click of it latching makes Fu Xuan flinch.

            No one else knows about the connection between Yufei and Dan Shu, not even Jing Yuan. Fu Xuan herself only knows about it thanks to Stelle handing her a copy of the former Chief Alchemist’s diary that she’d recovered. As soon as Fu Xuan read it, she finally realized the horrible extent of what she’d done thirty years ago, and how much her callous disregard for human life had cursed the Luofu and its people.

            And yet, even knowing that, she still thirsts for more knowledge, hungers for more authority. What kind of person does that? What kind of person digs themselves ever deeper into the moral greyscale to make up for past mistakes? But she can’t help it. At her core is a little devil saying Next time, I’ll get everything right, and she is a fool who listens to it over and over again.

            Qingque has, on more than one occasion, claimed that she and Fu Xuan are similar. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. While Qingque puts up a façade of laziness and irreverence, in reality, she’s a good friend, a skilled diviner, and a kind and thoughtful person. Meanwhile, Fu Xuan plays pretend at being the responsible master diviner and general-to-be, concealing the irredeemable monster at her core. And now, Qingque has seen her for who she really is.

            Fu Xuan can do naught but let out a hollow laugh. Disaster did come tonight after all. She just failed to consider that she, herself, would be the harbinger.

Chapter Text

Chat Log: Qingque -> Xuxia

[Missed Call: 21:34]

[Missed Call: 21:36]

[Missed Call: 21:39]

XUXIA PICK UP

PICK UP YOU ASSHOLE

i’m here

what’s going on

I FUCKED UP

I FUCKED UP SO BAD

okay

take a deep breath

got it?

okay

breathing, check

you with me?

i’m with you

what happened?

i messed up

boss and i were like. talking and stuff right?

and i was trying to get her to relax

but i think i accidentally hit on some trauma

oh, dear

and she just started yelling

it really freaked me out

and i just left

and now i just feel so stupid

you’re not stupid

aeons, i’m such an idiot

you’re not an idiot either

i always do this

why do i always do this

calm down, alright? you’re ok

i’m gonna call u

right

ok

You and [Xuxia] had a voice call that lasted [1h 34min].

. . .

            Here’s the thing: Qingque knows she’s not the easiest person to get along with. She’s never been able to make a relationship last – her longest was probably two months or so, which finally ended after a particularly intense infodump on the history of Celestial Jade caused her girlfriend to finally get fed up. And while Qingque has buddies now, that’s only come about after a long period of acquaintances drifting through her life, none of them finding her particularly appealing enough to befriend. Heck, even her own family is tired of dealing with her. Celestial Jade may be her biggest and longest-lasting obsession, but before that it was classic lit, and butterfly immersia, and a million other things she wouldn’t shut up about. There’s a reason why, these days, she mostly just spends family gathering seated in a corner, not talking to anyone.

            Qingque knows she’s not easy to get along with, which is why this latest incident with Fu Xuan comes as more of a disappointment than a surprise. It was really only a matter of time before she stuck her foot in her mouth and said something thoughtless, after all. She wants to go back in time and kick her past self for even briefly fantasizing about the possibility that Fu Xuan might find her company appealing. The two of them are from vastly different worlds. It was never going to work out.

            Xuxia, the good friend that she is, insisted that Qingque isn’t to blame for how Fu Xuan reacted during their call the previous night. And while, sure, Fu Xuan had been acting weird all night long, and her yelling at Qingque was a little too far, it’s still Qingque’s fault for not seeing the signs and continuing to provoke her. But it’s fine! It’s not like they were ever super serious anyway. All Qingque has to do is put this whole business with the master diviner out of her mind, and go back to being miserably single. After all, that is her default state, no reason why she can’t go back to it now, no matter how much the prospect makes her heart—

            “Diviner Qingque? Are you even listening?”

            Qingque snaps out of her internal monologue and realizes that, oh right, she’s at work. She and Jingzhai are standing before the Matrix of Prescience – Jingzhai to help operate the Matrix’s terminals, Qingque to take the results of the day’s latest divination down the library and catalogue them. Qingque quickly straightens up and puts on her best serious face. “Uh, yes, Diviner Jingzhai. I’m listening.”

            Jingzhai hums under her breath as she operates the terminals. “You shouldn’t be zoning out at a time like this. This is a particularly complicated divination,” she says, gesturing to where Lin Qiang stands beneath the Matrix. Normally, for something this difficult, Fu Xuan would perform the divination herself, or at least supervise it from her office. However, the blinds of that office have been shut all day, and she hasn’t emerged even once. Qingque very pointedly does not allow herself to worry about the master diviner.

            “Right, right,” Qingque sighs in response to Jingzhai’s statement. “Sorry, I just… have a lot on my mind right now.”

            Jingzhai raises an eyebrow. “Matters of the heart?”

            Qingque chuckles and scratches the back of her scalp. “Heh. How’d you guess?”

            “Because I’ve been there,” the elder diviner answers. “I, too, had a whirlwind romance with a man who I considered the love of my life.”

            Qingque feels her cheeks heat up. “Well, I mean, um… I wouldn’t really consider her the love of my life, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here…” she stammers.

            “So you’re practicing caution. That’s good,” Jingzhai says, adjusting a dial on the terminal. “The adrenaline rush of love is addicting in the moment, but it cannot last forever. Especially for those like us, who may live for thousands of years, love will seem to expire all the sooner. Resentment builds up, the feelings fade, and you realize you’ve wasted decades of your life on a fleeting feeling. It’s much better to focus on your career and build yourself a stable livelihood than to go chasing love.”

            Qingque frowns as she considers that. Jingzhai’s words make a certain amount of sense, sure, but there’s something about them she doesn’t like. It’s not something she can clearly identify, but there’s something about the defeated, empty tone of Jingzhai’s voice that sends goosebumps up her arms. “So you’re saying… what, love is a waste of time?”

            “Not necessarily,” Jingzhai murmurs. “It’s just foolish to think of it as something precious, or sacred. Love is always temporary, and we, as long-life species, are eternal. The two will never be able to fully mix.”

            “I guess…?” Qingque mumbles.

            Above and ahead of her, the mechanisms of the Matrix of Prescience grind to a halt, and Lin Qiang steps out from the mechanism. Qingque and Jingzhai immediately get to work reading the terminal’s output, interpreting the data, and storing it on a jade abacus. Qingque deliberately slows down her work, hoping Jingzhai will pick up the slack, but the senior diviner simply slows down her own work in response. Qingque sighs as she picks up the pace again, knowing they’ll be here forever otherwise.

            Finally, the process is complete. Jingzhai hands Qingque the jade abacus containing the complete divination data. “Alright, run this down to the library and catalogue it,” she instructs. “We’ve got another divination in twenty minutes, so don’t get distracted.”

            Qingque nods. “Right.”

            “Oh, and Qingque?” Jingzhai adds. “If you’re looking for my advice… keep your expectations low. That way, you won’t be disappointed.”

            “Is that what you did?” Qingque wonders.

            “It’s what I do now.”

            Qingque frowns. “And it made you turn out like this?” she asks. “Look, no offense, but… in that case, I think I should pass.”

            Then Qingque strolls up the stairs and away from the Matrix, praying to every Aeon she knows that she didn’t just get herself fired.

. . .

            Normally, running reports to the library is a simple task. Just head south from the Matrix of Prescience, then make a left at the tree in the courtyard, and you’re practically there. In addition, most who work at the Divination Commission know to leave plenty of room on this particular pathway for messages to and from the library to travel smoothly, so there’s isn’t usually much danger of crashing into anybody. Delivering the latest divination result should be a piece of cake.

            Emphasis on should be, because for some reason, there are a lot of people clogging up the pathway to the library today. Some of them are hurriedly walking to one destination or another, but most are simply standing around, talking to each other in hushed tones. How is Qingque supposed to get this job done and start slacking off with all these people in the way? Ridiculous!

            “Hey! ‘Scuse me! Coming through!” Qingque shouts, trying to squeeze her way through the crowd of (much taller) workers.

            “Hey, watch it!” the man she just elbowed past yells.

            “Just trying to do my job, pal,” Qingque says. “What’s the deal with all the standing around and chatting, anyways? Are you all trying to steal my schtick?”

            “Wait. You haven’t heard the news?” the man asks. “The master diviner was just found collapsed in her office. It’s all anyone’s talking about.”

            Oh, shit.

            All of sudden, the data in Qingque’s hands feels absolutely worthless. She instantly bolts back the way she came, heading west towards Fu Xuan’s office. “Out of the way!” she cries, pushing past the gathering of gossipers. She quickly gets past them, then breaks into a full sprint. All the while, her brain runs through the possibilities of what could have happened to Fu Xuan. Was it an assassination attempt? Was she poisoned? Was she attacked? Is she okay?

            As Qingque gets closer, she spies Fu Xuan being guided out of the office building, each of her arms around the shoulder of a Cloud Knight as they support her and keep her on her feet. She looks terrible: her legs are loose and limp, her clothes are rumpled, and the ever-present bags under her eyes look even darker than usual. Despite this, she’s trying to wriggle out of the Cloud Knights’ hold. “I assure you, I’m fine,” she hisses. “I need to get back to my work!”

            “Sorry, Diviner Fu,” one of the Cloud Knights says. “Standard procedure after loss of consciousness is a medical checkup to ensure no permanent damage. You’re going to have to see the on-site alchemist.”

            Fu Xuan opens her mouth to say something else, but she freezes when she sees Qingque’s rapid approach. “…Qingque?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”

            Qingque skids to a halt in front of her. “Checking up on you, duh!” she wheezes, out of breath from running. “Are you hurt? Are you sick? Are you gonna die? You can’t die, Boss!”

            Fu Xuan sighs. If she has any awkward feelings about seeing Qingque again, she doesn’t show them on her face. “I assure you, I’m not going to die. You shouldn’t worry about me. Now, with that in mind, could you perhaps convince my ‘entourage’ to release me back into my office?”

            Qingque sizes up Fu Xuan. Now that Qingque can see her up close, the master diviner seems quite unwell. Her eyes are bloodshot and her breath is ragged. “Yeah… you do seem kind of messed up, Boss. Maybe they’re right,” Qingque says as diplomatically as possible.

            Fu Xuan glares at her. “I’m fine. I’m simply a little worn out from stress, that’s all.”

            Qingque squints incredulously. “Yeah, I’m not buying it, Boss.”

            “Qingque, I—”

            Right at that moment, the apparatus of the Matrix of Prescience, barely visible over the tops of the buildings, lights up and begins to move.

            All the color drains from Fu Xuan’s face. “Oh, no,” she whimpers.

            Less than a second later, the gem on her forehead glows a sharp, piercing blue, and Fu Xuan lets out a bloodcurdling scream. The Cloud Knights, taken by surprise, loosen their grip just enough for Fu Xuan’s spasming body to wrench itself free from their hold. Then it collapses to the ground, shaking and jolting, as Fu Xuan continues screaming.

            Without a moment of hesitation, Qingque swoops in and cradles Fu Xuan’s neck, keeping her head off the ground while her body flails about. For a brief moment, Qingque considers restraining her, but that course of action might do more harm than good. Instead, she puts her mouth by Fu Xuan’s ear and says in a soft voice, “Boss, it’s me. It’s Qingque. What’s happening to you?”

            All she gets in response in a mix between a scream and a sob.

            Qingque draws back and, on a hunch, touches the tip of her finger to Fu Xuan’s forehead gem – then instantly recoils in pain. The gem is burning hot.

            One of the Cloud Knights looks on in confusion. “W-what’s going on?” she stammers.

            Then Qingque realizes something. She turns her gaze from the glowing gem up to the glowing Matrix of Prescience – and realizes it’s the same-colored glow. “I think I have an idea. You!” she shouts, pointing at one of the Cloud Knights. “Keep her head steady, we don’t need her getting brain damage,” she orders, then points at the other Cloud Knight. “You, go and grab the alchemist, tell her to get over here right now!” The second Cloud Knight takes off, and Qingque hands Fu Xuan over to the first one.

            As soon as the master diviner is in stable hands, Qingque takes off in the direction of the Matrix of Prescience. She thought she was out of breath before, but now she pushes her body to its limits, ignoring the burning in her lungs as she sprints down the walkways. “MOVE!” she screams, pushing past a few gossipers, giving herself a straight shot to the Matrix.

            Within seconds, she’s arrived, dashing as quickly as she possibly can to the Matrix controls – only for a certain someone to step into her path. “Diviner Qingque, what are you doing?” Lin Qiang shouts. “A divination is in progress!”

            After gulping down a few shallow breaths, Qingque manages to wheeze out, “Shut down the Matrix!”

            “We’re not going to just ‘shut down the Matrix’, what’s going on?” Lin Qiang asks sternly.

            “Fu Xuan’s in trouble, you ass!” Qingque gasps. “Turn it off!”

            “Qingque, what are you talking about?” Jingzhai asks from her position at one of the terminals. “You’re not making any sense.”

            “Explain yourself, Diviner Qingque!” Lin Qiang shouts.

            Qingque takes in a deep breath. “Fu Xuan’s in pain right now because her gem is hurting her and I think it’s connected to the Matrix and it just activated and—”

            Lin Qiang and Jingzhai glare at her with confusion and anger.

            “Oh, forget it,” Qingque sighs, pulling a jade tile from her pocket. It doesn’t take her long to locate one of the primary computation modules in the apparatus high above, and it takes her even less time to charge up the tile with quantum energy and throw it at the module with all her strength. The result is a small blast and a cloud of sparks, and a few seconds later, the apparatus grinds to a halt.

            Every diviner present stares at her, speechless.

            “Okay, good talk, seeya!” Qingque cries, turning tail and running back in the direction she came.

            (Oh, she is so fired now.)

            Before long, she’s back at the place where she left Fu Xuan. The master diviner has stopped spasming, and now lays unconscious on the ground. The alchemist, a dark-haired woman with kind eyes, looks over her. The pair of Cloud Knights, meanwhile, are keeping the crowd of onlookers back, keeping anyone from taking pictures.

            Qingque runs up to the alchemist, skidding to a halt beside her. “How is she?” she asks.

            “It looks like she’s going to be alright,” the alchemist reports, gently tugging open one of Fu Xuan’s eyelids and shining a light at her eye. Her pupil contracts. “No signs of damage to mental faculties, and no severe physical injuries,” the alchemist continues. “Right now, the best thing for her would be some bed rest. Do you have anyone who could take her back to her home?”

            Qingque nods. “I’ve been to her place a couple times. I can take her there.”

            “Alright then. I’ll be leaving her in your care. Miss…?”

            “Qingque. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

. . .

            The process of transporting the unconscious master diviner from the Divination Commission to her residence is an awkward one. Because while the people in and around the Divination Commission itself may be aware of why Qingque is bridal-carrying her boss, the residents of Starskiff Haven most assuredly do not. The result is a lot of odd and suspicious looks thrown her way, and one incident where someone actually calls the Cloud Knights on her. Fortunately, showing the guard her employee ID and explaining the purpose of her mission is enough to get him off Qingque’s back.

            After that, Qingque locates Fu Xuan’s residence with an ease that’s frankly a little embarrassing. One last round of mortification later, as Qingque is forced to dig through Fu Xuan’s pockets for her keys, and they’re in.

            Qingque’s arms are just about ready to fall off at this point, so she speed-walks over to the bedroom and dumps Fu Xuan onto her bed. Then, after taking a moment to recover, she pulls the covers over Fu Xuan and gently tucks her in. All the while, the master diviner doesn’t stir.

            Finally, Qingque takes a step back and triumphantly puts her hands on her hips. Mission complete! She did it! And Fu Xuan actually looks pretty cute all covered in blankets like that, which is a feeling that Qingque will now very pointedly not investigate further!

            But as Qingque basks in her accomplishments, she begins to notice something. Fu Xuan’s bedroom is, in a word, bare – much like the rest of her house. Besides the bed, a dresser, and a bedside table, there’s nothing else of note here. Well, that’s not quite true – while that may have been accurate the last time Qingque was here, now there’s a noticeable new addition. Sitting stop the bedside table is the Celestial Jade tile set that Qingque purchased for Fu Xuan on one of their dates. It’s the only personalized item in the whole room. The plastic wrap on the outside has been removed.

            Qingque didn’t think Fu Xuan would care all that much about her gift.

            She slowly meanders over to the table and takes the lid off the case of tiles, then plucks out one of the tiles and idly rubs it with her thumb. Why does Fu Xuan have these in her bedroom? They’re just some novelty tiles. Qingque only got them because they were on sale.

            …That’s a lie. She also got them because the backing on the tiles is the same pink as Fu Xuan’s hair.

            Humming a little to herself, Qingque turns to look at Fu Xuan – only to find the master diviner’s eyes open, and staring right at her. “Oh. Uh, hey Boss,” Qingque says as nonchalantly as she can. “Sorry, I know I’m probably the least comforting face for you to wake up to right now…”

            Lying on the bed, Fu Xuan lets out a tiny scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she murmurs. Then something seems to occur to her, and wriggles down a little farther into the blankets. “…I suppose everyone knows now?” she asks, downcast.

            “There’s probably a lot of rumors going around. I don’t know, I was busy getting you back here,” Qingque says. “So, what is the deal with your, uh…” she taps the center of her own forehead with the tile in her hand, “…thingamabob? Only if you’re okay with sharing and stuff.”

            Fu Xuan sighs and stares at the ceiling. “…I got it from Nous.”

            Qingque is really glad she wasn’t just holding anything heavy or breakable, or she would’ve definitely dropped it. As it is, she still puts a hand on the bedframe to steady herself. “Sorry, Nous? The Aeon of Erudition, Nous?”

            “The very same,” Fu Xuan says solemnly.

            “Bu—wha—how?” Qingque sputters.

            “I was young. Foolish. Arrogant,” Fu Xuan explains. “I had questions, and the records in the family library didn’t have the answers. So I went looking for them. I ended up looking a little too hard for my own good.” She takes a pause before continuing. “Most don’t survive a direct encounter with an Aeon. Our bodies aren’t built to even handle their mere presence. But Nous saw something in me. And so he gave me a gift.” Fu Xuan snakes a hand out of the blankets and taps the gem.

            Qingque considers this. “…But if it’s a gift, then why does it hurt you?”

            “A gift and a curse,” Fu Xuan corrects herself. “But such is the way of all wisdom, is it not? If ignorance is bliss, then knowing must bring suffering. And incalculable knowledge therefore brings incalculable suffering. This is the path I consigned myself to.”

            Qingque frowns. “That’s dumb.”

            Fu Xuan turns her head to face Qingque. “Hm?”

            “That’s dumb.” Qingque says, a little louder this time. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. What, like it’s your fault that you’re a genius? Come on.”

            Fu Xuan lets out a quiet chuckle. “I thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.”

            Qingque narrows her eyes. “You didn’t look so fine earlier.”

            “An isolated incident. The pain isn’t normally that intense.”

            “So you’re saying there is normally pain.”

            Fu Xuan looks down. “…Constantly,” she mumbles.

            Qingque’s heart breaks a little at that. She puts down the jade tile and traces up the side of Fu Xuan’s face, her thumb gently coming to rest on the gem. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” she repeats. “Nous is a dick.”

            That manages to draw a quick laugh from Fu Xuan. “Don’t you follow the Path of Erudition?” she asks.

            “Yes, which means I’m fully qualified to say that Nous is a dick,” Qingque says matter-of-factly.

            Fu Xuan laughs again, and for a moment Qingque’s spirits soar. But then she notices the tears forming in the corners of Fu Xuan’s eyes.

            “Woah, hey, you alright?” Qingque murmurs. “I didn’t insult you again by accident or anything, did I? Sorry, I didn’t even think…” She tries to pull her hand away, but Fu Xuan lays her own hand on her wrist, keeping her in place.

            “No, nothing like that. Qingque, you’re so kind. And I’m so sorry,” Fu Xuan sniffles. “I’m sorry for kicking you out of bed, I’m sorry for being a bad date, I’m sorry for yelling. And I am so, so sorry for giving you any reason – even for a second – to be afraid of me. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

            “Hey, it wasn’t that big a deal. I was just a little freaked out for a second,” Qingque protests.

            Fu Xuan shakes her head. “It still wasn’t right of me. You deserve better than that.”

            “Well… I’m sorry too.”

            Fu Xuan stares at Qingque incredulously. “But what do you have to be sorry for?”

            “Oh, you know,” Qingque says. “Being a pain. Always talking your ear off. Being so obsessed with Celestial Jade…”

            “Don’t apologize for that,” Fu Xuan says weakly, but sternly. “Never apologize for that. Don’t change who you are for me.”

            “But—”

            “Don’t.”

            Neither of them speak for a while. Then, Qingque manages to croak out, “I’m sorry for being a jerk last night, too. I wasn’t trying to bring up something that would hurt you.”

            Fu Xuan nods, a faint smile on her face and dried tears on her cheeks. “I know. Thank you.” The hand on Qingque’s wrist shifts as she intertwines their fingers.

            The two of them stay like that for a minute, maybe two – looking into each other’s eyes, hands clasped together. Qingque has never placed a lot of faith in the spiritual, but right now, she feels like she’s under some sort of spell, unwilling to tear her gaze away, but unable to take a step further. She’s paralyzed, and it’s simultaneously terrifying and wonderful.

            Then Fu Xuan’s eyelids droop, and the spell is broken. “I’m feeling rather tired,” she mumbles.

            “Yeah, the alchemist said you should probably get some rest,” Qingque says, slipping her hand out of Fu Xuan’s. “Feel free to doze off. Oh, wait, first – where do you keep your painkillers? I’ll grab some for you for when you wake up.”

            Fu Xuan lazily shakes her head. “Took them to the Divination Commission today. Left them there.”

            “Alright, guess I’m making a milk run, then,” Qingque decides. “Sit tight, I’ll be right back.” But as she turns to leave, she feels Fu Xuan’s hand reach out and grab hers again. She turns around to see Fu Xuan looking at her with sleepy, unfocused eyes.

            “Stay?” Fu Xuan mumbles, on the doorstep of slumber. “…Please?”

            Qingque doesn’t move for a moment, just looking at the way Fu Xuan’s eyelids drowsily flutter open and closed. Her grip is loose, and Qingque could probably easily shake it off if she wanted to. Does she want to?

            Qingque sighs. “Ah, what the heck. Scooch over.”

            “Mmkay,” Fu Xuan says, pushing herself towards the far side of the bed.

Once there’s enough room, Qingque gingerly lifts up the covers and climbs in too. There isn’t a whole lot of space in the bed, which means that Qingque and Fu Xuan’s faces are very close. Qingque is about to suggest that they spoon, or turn away from each other. But before she can, Fu Xuan pushes her face into Qingque’s neck and promptly falls asleep.

            Qingque sighs and wraps an arm around Fu Xuan. They’re going to have to have a serious talk once Fu Xuan is awake enough, and that’s something Qingque is not looking forward to. Feelings were never supposed to be involved, but it’s looking increasingly like that’s no longer an option for her. What’s she going to do?

            But then Fu Xuan’s sleeping face nuzzles into her neck, and her thoughts turn to mush from the cuteness.

            …Yeah. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

Chapter Text

Fu Xuan wakes up to an empty bed.

            She tries and fails to suppress her disappointment. This was to be expected, after all. Just because Qingque cared for her after her… episode at the Divination Commission, that doesn’t mean she feels anything special for Fu Xuan. She probably would’ve done the same for anyone in the same circumstances. And even though she seemed to accept Fu Xuan’s apology, that certainly doesn’t mean she’s obligated to stick around. Whatever wonderful meagre connection Fu Xuan convinced herself that they had is gone now, if it ever really existed. There’s no reason for Qingque not to leave while Fu Xuan was asleep. It only makes sense.

            Fu Xuan slowly blinks the sleep from her eyes and pulls herself into a seated position. A glance out her window tells her that the artificial sun has only barely begun to crest the horizon. She doesn’t have to be at work for a few hours yet. Even so, some fuzzy mental math leads her to conclude that she’s been asleep for at least thirteen hours, which is far and away the most sleep she’s gotten at once in decades. Maybe that’s why all her joints feel like they’ve rusted over, and her brain is running at a tenth of its normal processing speed. Her third eye pulses with a sore pain, but it’s less severe than it was. That’s about all the good news she has.

            After around a half hour of wallowing in her own misery, Fu Xuan decides enough is enough. She hauls herself out of bed, strips off yesterday’s dirty uniform, takes a quick shower, then dons a clean outfit. The past weeks have been a never-ending, constantly-escalating debacle of momentous proportions, and it’s time to get her life back on track. The entirety of the Xianzhou Luofu is counting on her judgement, so she needs to be at a hundred and ten percent, preferably five minutes ago. Not to mention that she can’t keep using Qingque like she has. Fu Xuan has caused the poor woman no end of problems, all because of her own foolish… feelings. It has to stop.

            And so, if she must do some… morally unscrupulous things to get her house in order, then so be it. The duty of the master diviner is to choose the lesser of two evils, after all. And really, what’s another blemish on her conscience when she is already stained beyond salvation?

            Fu Xuan leaves her residence and takes the next starskiff to the Divination Commission.

. . .

            Technically, no one’s supposed to be at the Divination Commission this early in the morning. In practice, a select few high-ranking diviners have clearance to access the grounds outside of normal hours, in case of an emergency. As a result, it’s child’s play for Fu Xuan to get past the Cloud Knights guarding the entrance by convincing them she’s just here to perform some checks on the Matrix of Prescience. The explanation is the important part – even if they have very little understanding of the actual mechanics of divination, it’s crucial that she doesn’t raise even the slightest suspicion. She doesn’t want to risk any chance of her being interrupted.

            As Fu Xuan nears the apparatus of the Matrix, she can spy the tell-tale signs of recent repairs. Since the Luofu cannot go even a single day without the Matrix, the Divination Commission has a team of expert mechanics ready to solve any issue with haste. Over the centuries, Fu Xuan has learned to recognize their unique handiwork. The apparatus must have been damaged sometime yesterday. She vaguely remembers hearing a blast towards the end of her last episode – was that what shut down the Matrix?

            …What exactly did Qingque do…?

            Never mind that. Fu Xuan is on a mission. And if she can still live with herself after the fact, maybe she’ll ask Qingque for her side of the story. For now, it’s time to get started.

            From the central terminal, Fu Xuan aligns the three base terminals and inserts their query criteria with practiced ease. The Spatial Terminal will calculate information related to the Luofu. The Temporal Terminal will analyze the future. And as for the Karma Terminal…

            Fu Xuan inputs information on herself.

            No turning back now. She moves to activate the Matrix.

            “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Miss Acting General,” a deep voice says from behind her.

            Fu Xuan whirls around to find none other than Jing Yuan leaning against the walkway railing. He wears an easygoing smirk and his general’s garb, minus the armor. How did he sneak up on her? How long has he been there for?

            Fu Xuan narrows her eyes and sighs. “Were you really just standing there, waiting for the most dramatic possible point to say that?” she groans.

            “Perhaps,” Jing Yuan says. “You made it rather easy to fly under your radar, consumed as you were with your task. I thought you would have put more effort into making sure you weren’t caught, Diviner Fu. After all, divining one’s own future is rather… frowned upon, is it not?”

            “It’s taboo, but it’s not illegal,” Fu Xuan snaps. “What are you going to do, lock me up?” She turns back to her work.

            “No,” Jing Yuan hums, drumming his fingers against the railing. “I suspect the guilt you feel afterwards will be punishment enough.”

            Fu Xuan stops.

            Jing Yuan takes this as an invitation to continue. “I’m afraid doing this will not bring you peace.”

            “I know what I’m doing, General,” Fu Xuan murmurs.

            “I believe you. You’re just doing it for the wrong reasons,” Jing Yuan responds. “Tell me, Acting General Fu. What is it that you want? Really, truly want?”

            “You want to know what I want?” Fu Xuan says shakily. She rounds on Jing Yuan. “I want to know what to do! Every choice I make is another tally on my list of sins, and every tally is a knife in the back of the people I care about. The people I’m supposed to protect. And if I can’t protect them – if I can’t do that one, simple, stupid thing right – then what good am I? Why in Lan’s name am I even still alive?”

            Jing Yuan stares at Fu Xuan for a few moments. Then he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

            Fu Xuan blinks. “…What?”

            “I’m sorry,” Jing Yuan repeats. “I should have been keeping a closer eye on you. You have an extraordinarily heavy burden on your shoulders, and I did not realize how much it has been affecting you. As your boss and your friend, I should have done more. I simply… assumed you could handle it.”

            Fu Xuan scoffs. “So I’m weak, is what you’re saying?”

            Jing Yuan frowns. “You and I both know that putting words in other’s mouths is unbecoming,” he says sternly. Then he procures his phone and presses a few buttons. There’s a bloop! as a text is sent, then he returns his phone to his pocket, then smiles and crosses his arms.

            There’s an awkward pause before Fu Xuan realizes something. “If you’ve just sent me a text, I believe my phone is still in my office.”

            “…Oh,” Jing Yuan says sheepishly. “Well, the phone number I just forwarded you is for a highly experienced therapist who runs an office in Starskiff Haven. I’d encourage you to book a few sessions.”

            “You claim you aren’t calling me weak, then you tell me to see a shrink? I don’t need therapy,” Fu Xuan spits.

            Jing Yuan chuckles. “That’s the same thing I said when I became arbiter-general, you know.”

            Fu Xuan pauses. “…Oh?”

            “It’s something most generals so through, I’ve heard,” Jing Yuan continues. “The heavy responsibility, the impossible choices, the constant self-doubt… it gets to be too much for one person. You feel like everything is your fault, even when there’s nothing you could have done. I’ve been through something similar to what you’re going through right now.” He smirks. “I believe I skipped the ‘sleeping with my slacker subordinate’ step, though.”

            “H-how did you—”

            “Please, it was obvious,” Jing Yuan waves her off. “In any case, that therapist helped me adjust to the stresses of the job and manage my work-life balance. I think she can help you, too, if you give her the chance. I’ll also speak with the Dragon Lady about letting me return to more of my old duties. I doubt I’ll be smiting our foes anytime soon, but I can at least take some paperwork off your plate.”

            Fu Xuan can’t help but feel a massive weight be removed from her chest – one she didn’t even notice was there until it vanished. “…Thank you, General,” she says.

            “My pleasure, General,” Jing Yuan responds. “Now, I don’t think you’ll be needing any divination at this point, hmm? Word on the street is it’s bad for your health, anyway.”

            “But…” Fu Xuan begins, struggling to find the words. “What do I do about Qingque? Everything I do seems to hurt her.”

            Jing Yuan shakes his head fondly. “Love isn’t something that you can simply follow step-by-step. And I’m afraid that, even as big of a snoop I am, I don’t know the intricacies of your relationship enough to provide any specific advice,” he explains. “But I can tell you this: if you think you have something good and real in your life, pursue it – even if that seems like the most terrifying thing in the world. Because if you let this opportunity for happiness pass you by, that regret will hurt worse than a thousand wounds.”

            At first, Fu Xuan mentally pushes back against the general’s use of the word “love”, but only for a moment. To continue to deny her clear romantic feelings for Qingque would be folly of the highest degree. She looks at Jing Yuan helplessly. “…What do I even say to her?”

            Jing Yuan shrugs. “Whatever you want,” he says simply. “Now, I believe we should both take our leave. Giving all this sage advice has left me rather worn out, and I’m overdue for a nice, long nap. You, on the other hand, have a certain diviner to track down, do you not?”

            “…Right,” Fu Xuan decides, shutting down the Matrix of Prescience. By the time the apparatus finished grinding to a halt, she’s already halfway across the grounds.

            Time to make this right.

. . .

            Here’s the issue, Fu Xuan realizes on the trip back to Starskiff Haven: she didn’t grab her phone from her office, which means calling Qingque isn’t an option. But even if it was, Fu Xuan wants to do this in person. This early in the morning, Qingque is likely to still be at home – an early bird, she is not. So locating her shouldn’t be all that difficult, if not for issue number two – Fu Xuan doesn’t know where Qingque lives.

            She feels like an idiot for not knowing, but they had been trying to keep it casual, after all. That’s coming back to bite her now, isn’t it? There are, however, a few pieces of good news. She knows, based on Qingque’s frequenting of the Sleepless Earl and Aurum Alley, that she lives somewhere in Starskiff Haven. And even though she doesn’t personally know Qingque’s address, she knows someone else in Starskiff Haven who might – and she’s likely to be out and about this early.

            After about twenty minutes of retracing the usual Cloud Knight patrol routes, she manages to locate Sushang. She’s finishing up helping an older man bring in some delivery packages from his doorstep, so Fu Xuan watches from afar until she’s done.

            Eventually, Sushang bids an enthusiastic farewell to the old man, and prepares to return to her patrol. Fu Xuan decides to take the opportunity to make herself known, and clears her throat.

            Sushang instantly turns to face the source of the noise, and she and Fu Xuan lock eyes. “L-Lady Fu Xuan!” Sushang says, snapping into a salute.

            “Miss Sushang,” Fu Xuan acknowledges.

            “What are your orders, sir?”

            “At ease, I’m… not here as your superior,” Fu Xuan says. “I’m looking for Qingque. Do you happen to know where she lives?”

            Sushang drops her salute and purses her lips. “Oh… Qingque, huh?”

            “Yes. Can you help me?”

            “I… don’t know if I should,” Sushang winces. “No disrespect meant, Lady Fu! It’s just that… Xuxia told me that the last time you two saw each other, you kind of yelled at Qingque a lot. So I don’t know if I should tell you anything, you know?”

            Fu Xuan has two options in this scenario. She could channel her authoritative presence and pressure Sushang into giving up Qingque’s address. It would work easily – the girl is quite obviously a rule-follower to the core. Alternatively, she could simply be honest about her mission – a strategy that has a much lower chance of success.

            So that’s the one she goes for. “I know. That previous encounter went… poorly, to say the least,” Fu Xuan admits. “But that is why it is so crucially important for me to make amends. She has become…” She pauses. “She has become an incredibly important person to me, and I don’t want to lose her.”

            Sushang considers that. “It feels like you’re telling the truth…”

            “I am,” Fu Xuan assures her.

            “And what if you get there, and she doesn’t want to talk to you?”

            “Then I’ll turn around and leave, and never speak to her again,” Fu Xuan promises, placing a hand over her heart. “I swear to you.”

            Sushang mulls it over for a little while, and Fu Xuan feels as she’s being suspended over a cliff. Finally, the young Cloud Knight sighs and takes out her phone. “I’d better not regret this. Okay, I think I wrote down her address somewhere here…” After about a minute of scrolling, she reads out the location of a local apartment complex.

            Fu Xuan instantly commits it to memory. “Thank you, Miss Sushang,” she says. “I promise, I won’t squander this chance.”

            “You’d better not,” Sushang says, crossing her arms. “Because if I find out you hurt my buddy again, I’ll track you down and punch you in the face!” Then she pauses. “…Wait, that’s treason, isn’t it? Well, um… I’ll do something! Yeah!”

            “Understood,” Fu Xuan nods. “I’ll hold you to that.” Then she rushes off.

. . .

            Qingque’s apartment building is, in a word, ordinary. Much like Qingque herself pretends to be, this place is perfectly average in basically every way. It’s tall, painted mahogany, and of reasonable quality. There are probably thousands of these complexes scattered across the Luofu. But at the moment, this one is all that matters to Fu Xuan.

            Qingque’s apartment is on the ninth floor. The elevator takes too long to arrive for Fu Xuan’s liking, so she opts for the stairs instead. She regrets it as soon as her thighs start to burn, but by then she’s already halfway there, and it would be foolish to stop now. She makes it to the ninth floor, takes a quick break to catch her breath, then locates apartment number 18. This is it.

            It’s only now that the true weight of the situation comes crashing down on Fu Xuan. What is she going to do? What is she going to say? And how is she going to cope with it if she fails?

            No. She can do this. She has to do this. She raises a fist to knock on the door…

            …Only for the door to suddenly unlock and swing inwards, revealing none other than Qingque. She’s carrying a couple of paper bags, and her cheeks are flushed from exertion. (She’s just as beautiful as Fu Xuan remembers.) She pauses when she sees Fu Xuan. “Oh. Hey, Boss.”

            “Hello, Qingque,” Fu Xuan responds. “Apologies, I was about to knock…”

            “Yeah, sorry, you caught me heading out,” Qingque explains.

            Ah. Fu Xuan remembers this trick. “You don’t wish to speak with me. I understand. I’ll see myself out…” She turns to leave.

            “Nonono, wait! I actually mean it this time!” Qingque cries, putting down a bag to grab Fu Xuan’s shoulder. “What I mean is, I… I was heading out to go find you!”

            Fu Xuan can scarcely believe her ears. “What?”

            “Yeah, I just kind of slipped out this morning so I could go pick you up some stuff,” Qingque explains, motioning to bag in her hand. “I got you some more painkillers, plus some cans of soup and stuff. I noticed your pantry was looking a little empty. Oh! And that bag—” she points to the one on the floor— “has my weighted blanket. I thought you might want to borrow it while you get better. It’s pretty cool.”

            “You… got all of this for me?” Fu Xuan asks.

            Qingque raises an eyebrow. “Yes? I’m not sure why you’re surprised, I said in the note I left for you that I was going to be back with some stuff in a few hours.”

            Fu Xuan blinks. “…You left a note?”

            “Yeah, it was on your bedside table. ‘called in and got us both the day off, brb in a couple hours with sum stuff 4 u’. Didn’t you see it?”

            Fu Xuan’s cheeks burn. “I, um… may have been a little too preoccupied with other matters to notice it.”

            Qingque giggles. “Are you kidding me? What big, important thing were you fussing over so early in the morning?”

            “You,” Fu Xuan says simply.

            Qingque’s face reddens, and a small smile appears on it. “…Oh,” she murmurs.

            “May I come in?” Fu Xuan asks hopefully.

            “…Well, you’re already here, I guess,” Qingque says. “No point in us going all the way back to your place. Get in here.”

            Fu Xuan steps inside, and Qingque shuts the door after her.

            The inside of the apartment is nothing like the outside. Qingque has taken this place and made it her own. The walls are covered with posters for Butterfly Immersias and Celestial Jade tournaments. There’s a bookshelf in the corner stacked with classic literature, including a few impressively niche titles. The table in the living room has a holographic overlay for playing online Celestial Jade games. It’s all very… her.

            Qingque puts her bags against the wall and gestures to the space around them. “Ta-daa! I know it’s a lot, hehe…”

            Fu Xuan smiles. “It’s beautiful,” she says honestly.

            Qingque blushes and tugs at her sleeve. “Oh, uh… thanks, Boss.” She clears her throat. “So, uh… what’s the occasion for you to drop by? There isn’t some sort of emergency, is there? ‘Cause I’m not really the person to call for that,” she chuckles.

            “I wouldn’t consider it an emergency, but it is important,” Fu Xuan says. Then she takes a deep breath and plunges into the unknown. “Qingque, we need to talk.”

            Qingque deflates a little. “Right. I had a feeling you’d say that.”

            “I know, I’m sorry,” Fu Xuan sighs. “But, unfortunately, if we don’t talk about our…” she sighs, “…feelings, then we’re just going to keep going around in circles until we hurt each other again.”

            “Feelings are hard,” Qingque pouts. “And they suck.”

            “Agreed,” Fu Xuan says. “This is going to be just as much of a trial for me as it is for you.”

            Qingque groans. “I guess it’s too much to ask that we go back to being colleagues with benefits?”

            “I wouldn’t be satisfied with that. And I don’t think you would be, either,” Fu Xuan answers. She walks up to Qingque and takes one of her hands in hers. “Would it help if I go first?”

            Qingque nods, staring at their connected hands.

            Fu Xuan takes a few moments to choose what to start with. “I’m a stubborn fool,” is what she decides upon. “I’m prideful, I’m arrogant, and I’m calculative to a fault. I’m married to my work, and I take everything too seriously. Not to mention that I apparently have a whole host of issues with guilt and self-worth to work through. And I am working on them, but… it’s slow going. It’s difficult to change these sorts of bad habits after centuries.

            “But when I’m around you… it doesn’t feel like an insurmountable struggle anymore. Your mere presence is a reassurance, a reminder that there are still good things in the universe. That I can have good things, if I let myself. And by Lan, they are amazing. The days I have spent with you are incomparable to any others. I have had sleepless nights fantasizing about the feeling of our fingers intertwined with each other’s. When I see you smile – really, truly smile – it feels like a cleansing of my soul. And when you speak, I am entranced. I could listen to you talk about your passions for hours and never become bored. I only regret that I have never told you any of this before, and that I took so long to realize it myself.

            “I confess, I considered divining the results of this conversation, but I ultimately decided against it. I won’t know what you think of any of this until you tell me. You may accept or reject me, and you would be entirely within your rights to do either. But before you decide, I want you to know: I’m going to make mistakes. I won’t be able to spend as much time with you as I’d like. And I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. But I swear to you that I will always try my best to make you happy. I will forever hold you tight and cherish every part of you. And I will never stop working to be worthy of you.

            “So… this is me. The good and the bad, I entrust it all to you. I don’t know what sort of future you have planned for yourself, but all I ask is that you give me a place in it.”

            Fu Xuan takes Qingque’s hand and presses the palm against her heart. It’s beating rapidly. “I place my fate in your hands,” Fu Xuan finishes.

            For a while, Qingque doesn’t say anything. She’s kept quiet for all of Fu Xuan’s monologue, her face unreadable. Now, as she processes what Fu Xuan has said, the gears turning in her head are practically audible.

            Finally, a soft smile spreads across her face. “I love you too,” she says simply.

            Fu Xuan lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She can practically feel her entire world shifting thanks to those four short, beautiful words. She can practically feel flowers blooming in her chest – not the sickly, diseased creations of of mara, but beautiful springtime flowers that fill her with light. Tears pool at the corners of her eyes.

            Qingque notices instantly. “Wait, are you crying? Was that the wrong thing to say? Was it too soon? I—”

            “No, no,” Fu Xuan interrupts. “I’m just… really happy, that’s all.”

            Qingque nods, grinning ear to ear. “Heh, yeah. Same here, Boss.”

            Fu Xuan chuckles. “You really need to come up with a new nickname for me.”

            Qingque puts a hand on her chin. “You sure? ‘Boss’ could make for some pretty spicy roleplay, if you’re interested…” she says suggestively.

            Fu Xuan blushes even harder than she already was. “L-let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she stammers.

            “Alright. Fair enough, babe.”

            Fu Xuan’s brain instantly bluescreens.

            Qingque starts cackling to herself. “Wow, wasn’t expecting that reaction! Aww, do you like being called ‘babe’, babe?”

            Fu Xuan brings her hands up to cover her bright red face. She lets out some muffled, incomprehensible noises.

            “Good to know,” Qingque says, smirking. “Hey, I wonder what else I can do to fluster you… maybe I should throw in a ‘honey’ or ‘sweetie’ every now and then. Maybe we can even work our way up to ‘darling’~”

            Fu Xuan pries her hands off her face and glares at Qingque. “You are a menace.”

            “A bit unconventional as far as pet names go, but I could get used to it,” Qingque snickers. “For you, how do you feel about ‘babygirl’?”

            “Qingque, I love you, but please stop talking.”

            “Oh yeah?” Qingque taunts. “Why don’t you make me?”

            “That can be arranged,” Fu Xuan decides. Then she grabs Qingque by her collar and pulls their faces together.

            Their lips meet. It’s perfect.

. . .

            A little later, they’re cuddling on the couch, the weighted blanket draped over them, looking out the window. It isn’t a great view, mostly just a bunch of other buildings. But every once in a while, a starskiff passes by, and they watch it as it disappears into the horizon.

            “So…” Qingque murmurs. “What happens now?”

            Fu Xuan leans her head against Qingque’s. “Well, the immediate priority will be sending a notice to HR.”

            “Ooh, can I write it?”

            Fu Xuan looks at Qingque with suspicion. “…What would you write?”

            “I dunno, probably ’What’s up losers, I just bagged the cutest girl on the Luofu. Sucks to be you!’. Something like that,” Qingque answers.

            “I’m not going to let you write it,” Fu Xuan decides.

            “Come oooooon.”

            “Absolutely not,” Fu Xuan says.

            “Please, babe?”

            Fu Xuan’s cheeks flush. “…No.”

            Qingque sighs. “Fine. It can be all formal and boring and stuff.”

            “Good. I’m glad you’re at least capable of the slightest professionalism.”

            “…But can I at least send my message to my gaming buddies?”

            Fu Xuan shrugs. “They’re your friends, it’s up to you. At least Sushang will know she doesn’t have to punch me.” She places one of her hands over Qingque’s. “But more to the point, are you ready for us to be… public? There are going to be accusations that you slept your way into keeping your job. I don’t know if I want you caught up in that.”

            “Oof, I wish I was cool enough to seduce my boss,” Qingque sighs. “But instead, I had to go and catch feelings, like a total loser.”

            “How tragic,” Fu Xuan muses, pressing a kiss to Qingque’s cheek. “But alright. If you’re ready, I’ll write up a statement to be distributed to the Divination Commission detailing the current… situation.”

            “I mean, this is all assuming I’m not fired for blowing up part of the Matrix of Prescience,” Qingque notes.

            “So that was you,” Fu Xuan says. “I wish I could say I’m surprised.”

            “Hey!” Qingque giggles, playfully smacking Fu Xuan’s arm.

            Fu Xuan smiles. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re not fired.”

            “A boss so blatantly using her authority to help her employee lover? For shame, Diviner Fu!” Qingque cries dramatically.

            “It’s a special situation. I’m sure Jingzhai will understand.”

            “If you say so.”

            “I do.”

            Neither of them speaks for a few minutes.

            Finally, Qingque pipes up. “So… after that notice, what’s the plan?”

            Fu Xuan hums to herself. “Well… normally, we would have to be at work in about three-quarters of an hour,” she muses. “But considering Jing Yuan’s willingness to handle the paperwork at the Seat of Divine Foresight, and that you have ever-so-kindly excused the both of us from work today… I think we can just stay here.”

            Qingque gasps. “Do my ears deceive me? Are you… actually advocating for skipping work? Who are you, and what have you done with Fu Xuan?”

            “What can I say? You’re a terrible influence on me,” Fu Xuan shrugs.

            “I will choose to take that as a compliment,” Qingque boasts. “But I’m surprised you don’t want to at least do something today.”

            Fu Xuan sighs. “If you must know… the adrenaline of trying to locate you this morning just wore off, and the pain from yesterday is back. My head currently feels like it’s about to explode. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m in no shape to be productive today.”

            “Oh, shoot. You need me to get you some painkillers?” Qingque asks. Then she realizes something. “Wait, have they fixed the Matrix already? Are you gonna be okay with all those divinations?”

            “I should be fine,” Fu Xuan assures her. “Protocol for non-emergency situations where the master diviner is absent is to follow base-level procedures, just enough to keep the Luofu running. There should only be one or two proper divinations performed today. I can easily weather that, as long as I have enough sweets and meds.”

            “Right,” Qingque nods. “I’ll go get those for you, then—” she begins to stand up, but Fu Xuan wraps an arm around her waist and holds her in place.

            “That can wait,” Fu Xuan murmurs. “I’d like to stay like this for a while longer.” She hesitates. “If… that is amenable to you?”

            Qingque smiles, then plops herself back down and snuggles up next to Fu Xuan. “Yeah, I think that sounds pretty sweet.”

            Fu Xuan intertwines her fingers with Qingque’s. “I’m glad.”

Chapter Text

Months Later…

            “Hey, Qingque, can you go run these divination reports up to Diviner Fu?” Jingzhai asks. “She’s said she wants to see them personally.”

            “With pleasure,” Qingque says honestly. She always appreciates whenever Jingzhai gives her an excuse to see her girlfriend during work hours, even if only for short periods at a time. Fu Xuan, for her part, makes an effort to drop by Qingque’s desk every once in a while and check in, even if they technically have to stay “professional” while they’re on the clock.

            “Here you go,” Jingzhai says, handing the reports to Qingque. “Try to get back here soon.”

            “Sure thing!” Qingque replies, rushing off.

            To an outside observer, it might seem that Jingzhai has changed her mind on the topic of relationships. Why else would she be helping Qingque to get some time alone with Fu Xuan? But Qingque knows that conclusion, while optimistic, is incorrect.

            The simple fact is, most of the people working at the Divination Commission are of the opinion that Fu Xuan has mellowed out considerably since she and Qingque started dating. They approve of the relationship more out of self-interest than anything else.

            Qingque, for her part, can’t really take all of the credit for Fu Xuan’s shift in attitude. The therapist Fu Xuan has been seeing has improved her mental health considerably, to the point where she’s started not-so-subtly suggesting that Qingque give therapy a try too (Qingque has held strong thus far). And so, with her girlfriend becoming a little calmer and more open to suggestions about her work-life balance, a couple months ago Qingque decided to pitch some new employee regulations for the Divination Commission. These included reduced working hours (with no reduced pay) for all employees, more paid sick leave, and – most crucially – a hard limit on how many divinations can be performed per day outside of emergencies, in order to reduce the strain on Fu Xuan’s mind and body.

            (And if many of these new regulations also helped Qingque get more free time… well, that’s her own business, isn’t it? No reason she can’t down two cycranes with one stone.)

            But what Qingque did not foresee was how much these new regulations, after they were passed with surprising ease, would affect her position in the Divination Commission’s pecking order. Suddenly, she was no longer Qingque, the lazy slacker who passed off her work, slept with her boss, and nearly blew up the Matrix of Prescience. Nowadays, she’s Qingque, the peoples’ representative, who secured a shiny new coffee machine in the break room and got everyone a big check of retroactive overtime back pay. Really, the only one who’s still angry with her is Lin Qiang, who’s probably just upset about having less work, like the weirdo he is.

            Qingque really couldn’t care less what her coworkers think of her, though. All that matters is that she gets to visit Fu Xuan’s office more often, multiple times a day if she’s lucky. That’s an indisputable win in her book.

            In the present, Qingque swings open the door to Fu Xuan’s office and steps inside. “Special delivery for Diviner Fu!” she announces.

            Fu Xuan looks up and smiles brightly. “Ah, Qingque. Go ahead and put those on my desk. I’ll take a look at them in just a moment.”

            Qingque does as instructed, then scans over the paperwork on the desk. “What’cha working on?” she asks.

            “Budget proposals,” Fu Xuan groans. “It’s a lot of nonsense that I won’t bother you with, but suffice to say that it’s an immensely complicated issue.”

            “Oof. That sucks.” Qingque can’t help but feel a little disappointed at Fu Xuan’s brief response. She knows that they’re not really supposed to be all lovey-dovey on the clock, but sometimes the serious mask that Fu Xuan puts on is a little too good at keeping distance between them.

            Fu Xuan’s voice brings Qingque back to the present moment. “Did you need anything else?” the master diviner asks.

            “Hey, um…” Qingque pauses, unsure if she has the courage to finish her sentence, “…you love me, right?”

            Fu Xuan raises an eyebrow. “Why, what did you do?”

            “H-hey, I didn’t do anything this time! I just, uh… wanted to hear you say it, I guess,” Qignque trails off. She tugs at her sleeve.  “Sorry, it’s dumb. I’ll just get going—”

            But even as Qingque says that, Fu Xuan stands up from her desk and purposefully strides up to Qingque, then takes her face in her hands. Then Fu Xuan places a long, gentle kiss on Qingque’s lips, and only breaks it when they both need to breathe. Then she leans in close to Qingque and whispers, “I love you.”

            Qingque’s knees almost give out.

            “Now get back to work,” Fu Xuan adds, pulling back and gently patting Qingque’s cheek. “I’ll be heading out to the Seat of Divine Foresight soon, so I probably won’t see you until this evening.”

            Qingque whines. “My lover giveth, and my lover taketh away…”

            “Yes, yes, I’m very cruel,” Fu Xuan deadpans, returning to her desk. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight. It’s date night, remember?”

            Instantly, Qingque brightens up. “Oh yeah, almost forgot! See you tonight, babe!” she chirps, skipping out of the office.

            “I’ll see you,” Fu Xuan chuckles right before the office doors close.

            Qingque prances off, head filled with possibilities of what will happen tonight. She’s so happy, she might even work past her quota for the day!

            Maybe. Probably not, though.

. . .

            Here’s the thing: at the end of the day, despite General Jing Yuan taking on paperwork duties, and there now being less to do at the Divination Commission, Fu Xuan is still both the Acting General and the Master Diviner of the Xianzhou Luofu. She may not be as busy as she used to be, but she’s still busy. For Qingque, scheduling dates with her is hard, and keeping those dates is harder. So while they do manage to make time for each other whenever possible, planning anything too extravagant always runs the risk of the date being cancelled, and their preparations being wasted.

            Hence the need for date night. At least once every month, Fu Xuan clears her schedule for the entire evening, delegates all her responsibilities, and makes it very clear to all her staff that unless there’s some sort of massive emergency, she’s not to be bothered or contacted under any circumstances. (Qingque clears her schedule too, but if she’s being honest, that part isn’t nearly as much of an ordeal.) Then they spend their free time together, going all-out on the most awesome dates they can think of.

            Today, that date has started off with a few quick rounds of Celestial Jade with Qingque’s buddies. So far, her friends have been nothing but supportive of Qingque’s relationship with Fu Xuan, even if Qingque does wish Xuxia would stop making innuendos whenever they’re together. Speaking of Xuxia, since she’s busy with yet another certification today, Fu Xuan takes her place as the fourth player at the Celestial Jade table. Qingque wins the first round, Fu Xuan wins the second, Sushang takes the third, then the couple say their goodbyes and head out. After all, they’re got other places to be.

            As the pair walks down the streets to their next destination, Qingque turns to Fu Xuan and says, “You know, you didn’t have to let Sushang win like that.”

            Fu Xuan forcefully clears her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Oh, come on. I’m the master of the game, and I’m an expert at playing against you. You totally knew that Sushang needed that tile you discarded.”

            “…Perhaps,” Fu Xuan admits. “Is there a problem with that?”

            “Not really, I guess,” Qingque says. “But you know the goal of Celestial Jade is to win, right?”

            “Maybe so. But consider: by holding back my full capabilities and taking a few losses, I am endearing myself to my lover’s companions, which is a key part of maintaining a healthy and long-lasting relationship,” Fu Xuan explains. “So while I may not be winning at Celestial Jade, I am, in fact, winning at socialization.”

            Qingque snorts. “You’re such a dork.”

            “Perhaps,” Fu Xuan hums. “But I believe that it takes one to know one.”

            “Fair enough,” Qingque shrugs. “Where are we going, anyway?”

            Fu Xuan smiles slyly. “You’ll see.”

            Fu Xuan leads Qingque into a back alley, up a ladder, and onto the roof of a nearby building. There are already a couple of chairs set up there, and Qingque wastes no time in taking a seat and opening up the picnic basket she’s been lugging around.

            This is the way date night works – one of them handles the venue and activities, the other handles the food and drink. For this particular date, Qingque has procured some tasty pork buns for the main course, plus a box of milk candy balls for her sweets-obsessed girlfriend. Fu Xuan, of course, instantly goes for the latter. “Rough day at work today?” Qingque asks.

            Fu Xuan takes a short break from scarfing down chocolates to answer, “I am going to murder whoever designed our financial protocols.”

            “…Pretty sure that person has probably already passed on, babe.”

            “I will go back in time and kill them again,” Fu Xuan says resolutely. Then she pauses. “…There are all strawberry-flavored.”

            “Yep,” Qingque confirms.

            “Please tell me you didn’t purchase another ludicrous amount of variety packs to scavenge from?” Fu Xuan sighs.

            “Not this time!” Qingque boasts. “I got a custom order from the vendor. You, Miss Fu, are holding the only strawberry-only candy box on the Luofu!”

            “Ah, I’m truly honored,” Fu Xuan says with mock formality. “Still, I hope this didn’t cost you too much.”

            “Nah, it’s fine,” Qingque waves her off. “What we should be talking about is how much it cost for you to rent this rooftop for the night, eh?”

            “That’s not important,” Fu Xuan dismisses, blushing. “This was simply the ideal locations to view the show from, that’s all.”

            “Hmm? What show?”

            “You’ll see in a moment,” Fu Xuan says. “In the meantime, I have these, if you need them.” She hands Qingque a pair of earplugs, then puts in a pair of her own.

            A moment later, a flash lights up the artificial night sky, followed by a BOOM and a crackle crackle crackle. Qingque whips her head around to see the remnants of a firework slowly dissipate in the distance – then another one arcs up into the sky, followed by two more. They burst into colorful flowers, then fade away.

            Qingque excitedly turns to Fu Xuan. “You planned this?”

            “Sort of,” Fu Xuan answers, speaking loudly so she can be heard over the fireworks. “I was the one who approved the permit for a small festival scheduled for tonight, that’s how I knew where and when it would be. I simply took advantage of the situation. I thought we could go down and join the festivities after the fireworks are over.” She flinches almost imperceptibly as another firework goes off.

            Qingque instinctually wraps an arm around her. “Hey, you alright?”

            “I’m fine,” Fu Xuan sighs. “The earplugs were a good idea, though. I underestimated just how… loud these fireworks would be.”

            “Aww, don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the big, bad fireworks,” Qingque says. Her tone is jokey, but the words are serious. She tugs Fu Xuan’s chair closer, and snuggles into her.

            “This is unnecessary,” Fu Xuan scoffs.

            “So… you’re saying no to cuddles?”

            Fu Xuan pauses. “…Well, I didn’t say that.”

            “Thought so.” Qingque watches the fireworks for a little while, then turns back to gaze at Fu Xuan’s face.

            Fu Xuan notices, of course. “If you keep staring at me like that, you’re going to miss the show,” she deadpans.

            Qingque watches a firework go off in the reflection of Fu Xuan’s eyes. “I disagree.”

            Fu Xuan responds by gently pushing Qingque’s face back in the directions of the fireworks. “This view isn’t going to be here forever, you know,” she reminds Qingque. “You can look at me any day you want. We have time.”

            Something about that phrase lights a flame of ecstasy in Qingque’s heart. She presses a kiss to Fu Xuan’s cheek and murmurs, “Yeah. We have time.”

            Because, deep down in her core, Qingque knows that this is only their beginning.