Chapter Text
Would she ever have been ready for the fall?
Had Rex Lapis told her, would she have committed the deed with more ease? Would knowledge have weakened the stinging regret that creeps underneath her fingernails and into her weakened heart? Would she have been able to justify the trade before the fall, when there had been power in her hands still, and not after, when the game had been lost?
She had told her little Yuheng that the trade off was for Liyue Harbour, and that was no lie. Except it was a loser's victory — a clamouring for the silver lining after a terrible deluge, a fool's errand to ease the stinging, burning pain. Liyue Harbour stands on her Jade Chamber’s grave, and she was left with nothing but the ashes in her mouth and a desperate clamouring for some high ground.
Keqing squeezes their entwined hands and says, “Are you okay?”
“Of course.” Ningguang reaches for the nearest swath of silk, pink-purple under the afternoon sunlight and sparkling from golden threads carefully interwoven by expert hands. “What do you think of this?”
“Hm.” Keqing releases her hand to touch the fabric, and Ningguang regrets the loss. “It’s alright. The gold is too flashy, though.”
“Very true,” she hums. Keqing should wear something that amplifies the light that she carries with her, something that multiplies the brightness in her eyes and sparkle in her words so that others can see just how blindingly perfect her little Yuheng is. Ningguang hails the vendor, who comes rushing. “What other options do you have in this weave?”
As he pulls out roll after roll of fabric, Ningguang revels in the excitement each new weave brings to Keqing’s eyes.
“These are Dihua weaves, Lady Keqing,” he explains, spreading out a lilac weave over his knee. “Woven by weavers from the region in the traditional style — using a handloom to interweave the brighter accents into the base fabric. Since it’s handmade, the imperfections only add to its value.”
“Wonderful,” says Keqing, running a hand over the cloth. “Ningguang, what do you think of this one?”
She finds that she cannot resist. “Silk reflects the beauty of the wearer, my dear. So all these weaves are gorgeous.”
A bright pink flush greets her words, softening the severity of the look Keqing throws her way, and the vendor turns away with a knowing smile.
That they walk so freely along Liyue’s bustling streets is no small feat, for Keqing is modest in her personal life when she is bold in the professional. But it had been her idea to discard the robes that they usually wear on their outings, and Ningguang is still swimming in the giddy, childish joy of it all.
So she knocks their shoulders together and says, “Am I wrong, my dear little Yuheng?”
Keqing rolls her eyes. “Behave yourself.”
And Ningguang chooses to listen this time, because she is allowed to witness Keqing’s radiance as she turns to the vendor and discusses the fabric further. She thinks she will never tire of her sweet cheeks and bright eyes, of her proud shoulders and firm steps, of her ability to make things difficult by being contrarian and earnest all at once.
Something has changed in Keqing, and Ningguang, smitten as she is, can only sing its praises.
“The market price is 45,000 per metre,” the vendor is saying. “But I would sell it to you for 40, Lady Keqing. To have the Yuheng herself wearing my weaves is an honour, truly.”
Before Keqing can begin her triade on fair market prices, Ningguang says, "Pack five metres for us, if you would please."
Keqing turns to Ningguang with an indignant look.
“Add an extra metre,” she says, not breaking the Yuheng’s gaze. “I hear Fontaine-style hats are in vogue these days.”
“Of course. That one is on the house, Lady Tianquan.”
“Thank you,” says Ningguang, and Keqing only smiles, frustrated but fondly so.
As the vendor wraps up the sparkling cloth in crackling paper, he says, “Lady Tianquan, if I may say something…”
Ningguang blinks at the vendor, a young man clearly running a family business. "Speak."
He clasps his hands before him. "I was selling my wares here, at the docks, on the day the Overlord of the Vortex attacked our home. I saw what happened with my own eyes, saw you save us from certain destruction. I— Forgive me for my overstepping. But I must thank you for your sacrifice, Lady Tianquan.”
Something has changed indeed.
Because rather than the razor-sharp whip sorrow that whipped against her shaking throat earlier, Ningguang finds something else unfurling in her chest.
It is an awful gratitude, one with crystalline petals that scratch against her sore heart. A strange flower that has bloomed where there was once certain devastation. But if she must make do with the scraps in the aftermath of certain ruin, then a flower is better than anything else.
She finds herself saying, “Thank you for your kind words.”
The young man, clearly running a budding business from his own capital, smiles in turn. “It’s nothing to thank me for, Lady Ningguang. I hope we may see the Chamber again, however. I find myself missing its presence while I conduct my business.”
Ningguang only smiles as Keqing’s warm fingers wrap around her own. “Perhaps we shall.”
And with that, the trade is complete, and Ningguang finds herself being led by Keqing’s firm grip along the wooden docks. Colourful stands dot every inch of her vision, the smell of chillies frying in oil enticing her every step. She follows Keqing as she bounds forward, always forward, towards the terrace that overlooks the ocean. Even the shadow of the massive gates of the north harbour can do little to dull her shine.
Her heart melts and quivers when she realises that the spring has returned to Keqing’s step.
Keqing smiles at her smiling, says, “You know, you need a Building Permit from the Yuheng’s office for any residential construction. Are you keeping secrets from me?”
Ningguang blinks back the brightness in her eyes from beholding this bewitching creature. “No more than you are, my dear little Yuheng.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
"I hear you’ve made an interesting purchase recently,” she drawls, leaning against the railings of the wooden terrace. “If idols were to your fancy, I could have gotten one specially crafted for you.”
Pink eyes widen. "How did you know?"
"I have eyes everywhere, my little Yuheng."
Keqing sighs tiredly. "Nosy woman. What do you need all those eyes for anyway?"
Ningguang leans closer to her enthralling glow. "I simply need that many eyes to behold your beauty."
Keqing mimes throwing up.
But she's smiling, lovely and blushing and shy, and Ningguang takes the win.
With a little huff and a shake of her head, Keqing walks away from Ningguang and across wooden floorboards again. Walks towards the giant grey staircase leading further into the city and Ningguang can only follow her, a helplessly charmed moth to a dazzling flame.
"Are you not going to answer me?" she calls.
Skipping over the steps, Keqing leans over her shoulder and says, cheekily, "No. Because that line was really bad."
Ningguang can only laugh, and the word love flutters through the orange-red ginkgo leaves.
Once she reaches the top of the stairs, Keqing says, "I need to stop by at Mingxing for a second."
"Ah, picking up that mysterious order at last?"
"You remembered?” Keqing smiles. “Nosy woman."
But she interlaces their hands together, and Ningguang cannot help but smile, foolish and too old to feel this way. When they reach the glittering gems of Mingxing, Xingxi welcomes them with a smile.
"Welcome, Lady—um, Keqing. And Lady Tianquan. What brings you to Mingxing today?"
"I'm here to pick up my order, Xingxi. Is it ready?"
"Ah." Xingxi's eyes dart around nervously. "Your order, yes. There was a— Um…"
"What's the matter, Xingxi?"
Helplessly, her eyes fall on Ningguang, who only winks back at the flustered storekeeper.
"Ahem." The girl adjusts the front of her dress. "Your order for the Lucent Crescents were received and the product was prepared, but we had a buyer come in at the very last moment and buy out our entire stock."
"What?!" cries Keqing. "Did you not keep any, Xingxi? I placed this order months back!"
"Y-Yes, you did, Lady Yuheng. However, this buyer purchased our stock at twice the market rate.”
Keqing’s jaw falls open. Ningguang bites back her laughter.
“Please accept my humblest apologies,” Xingxi is saying, looking truly apologetic. “Yours was not the only order that was disrupted. We are working on getting your order to you at the earliest."
“I can’t believe this,” says Keqing, shaking her head. "Who was this buyer? I'll have a word with them on fair market practices."
"It was, um."
Xingxi looks at Ningguang once more. She nods imperceptibly.
"It was the Lady Tianquan."
Keqing blinks.
And then whips around to her angrily.
"What the hell, Ningguang?! You know that this is a wrongful market practice! You cannot cause a shortage in supply of goods without good reason, and even if you are the Tianquan, this is very improper—"
Ningguang smiles helplessly, letting her little Yuheng go on her tirade, all bright red anger and righteous lecturing, giddy and enchanted and besotted at every gesture and word.
“It seems as though I’ve caused you a lot of trouble,” she says once Keqing is done. “Unfortunately, what’s done is done.”
“That’s a bullshit answer. And those were for my friends! They’re relying on me to get it for them!”
“Well then,” she drawls, calm despite the rancorous fluttering in her chest, “you know how to rectify that.”
“Oh, so you’ll sell it to me at some inflated—”
Keqing freezes mid-sentence. Laughter tightens around Ningguang’s throat, helplessly breathless as Keqing clamps her mouth shut.
Because bright pink eyes are clever enough to know. Keqing has always been quick, sharp as a thorn and as beautiful as the flower, so she must have heard the stories behind Mingxing’s most gorgeous creation. There is a hot flush crawling up her throat, after all.
Because purchasing a Lucent Crescent is tantamount to winning your lover’s heart, of course.
And that means Ningguang doesn’t need to say it, does she? She can get Keqing to say the words that flutter through the orange-red leaves and sparkling sunlight. She had placed the chips in order, so she just needs to tip the first piece, like she does now.
“Inflated price? I think three times the original price is a decent profit, don’t you agree?”
Keqing actually stomps her foot, a bright pop of purple and red and pink. “Three times the—! Ningguang, that's daylight robbery!"
“Is it?” she hums, chest fluttering with the rustling of the wind. “Don’t you think such a precious thing is worth that price?”
And she thinks she has won this game of Mora, because that is what she always does, after all. Ningguang is unbeatable when the rules are in her grasp.
But she has forgotten that this is Keqing, and nothing comes easy with this perfect creature.
"No. That’s not— I'm not going to buy it from you."
Keqing pokes her shoulder, and she looks upset but she is blushing and smiling too, bright red and pouting preciously, words like dull knives softened from the whisperings between the trees.
“I want to hear you say it. Properly, and not— I want to hear you say the words.”
She huffs, and Ningguang should have known.
“And until then, I’m not telling you.”
Ningguang should have known, because her darling little Yuheng is nothing if not contrarian, and that is why the leaves rustle with words so sweetly unspoken.
“Would you wait for so long?” she breathes.
“Don’t take forever,” pouts Keqing, looking mighty pleased at herself, as if Ningguang stood a chance at winning against her. She had lost to her little Yuheng, surrendered willingly, a long time ago. “You bought the Lucent Crescents already — now just grow a pair and tell me.”
The winds rustle through purple locks, and Ningguang wishes she could follow their movements. Curl a hand into her hair and yank her close, see her eyes waver with excitement and defiance and submission. Then kiss her, sweet at first, then rough and demanding until she surrenders in turn.
But of late, Ningguang does not mind losing. Especially when it’s to Keqing, so perfect and precious and smug and smiling.
Instead of the songs thrumming against her fingertips, Ningguang says, “Will you come with me?”
Keqing’s hand is curling into her own before she says, “Where?”
“You will see,” she breathes, and pulls her through the lanes and leaves and love.
They go towards the captivating scent of Glaze Lillies at Yujing Terrace, and then the ever-lit pyre for Rex Lapis. Bu’yun greets her with a nod, prepares the forgotten lift that once carried her to her Jade Chamber. Keqing blinks as the green slab blinks to life, but steps onto it with a sureness born from muscle memory. Ningguang aches.
A few moments later, they step down from the platform at the highest point of Mt. Tianheng.
"Wow," breathes Keqing.
There's nothing spectacular about the mountaintop itself — bearing just a stony ruin and a few scraggly plants covering rocky ground. No, what makes this place so gorgeous is the view.
Of Liyue Harbour, bright and busy and bustling in the afternoon sun. Full of colour and chatter and clutter, clusters of crowds here, cacophony of sounds from there, crash of waves from beyond. When it's spread out before them like this, all sights and sounds alike, Ningguang thinks she is reminded of why they do all that they do.
And now, after everything, why losing may not have been so bad.
“Something has changed,” she says, soft enough for the wind to steal away.
But Keqing, her darling Keqing, doesn't allow that. "Yeah. A lot, hasn’t it?"
Ningguang chuckles, clasps her dearest's hand tighter.
She had thought it was a loss, a resounding, all-encompassing loss. And it had felt like it for the longest time, aching within her chest and screaming between her throat, every time the Jade Chamber was brought up. For what else could it have been? Keqing had asked her why she did it, and at that time she had lied, for nothing was worth trading in her glorious home, not even Liyue Harbour.
But now…
Ningguang gestures to the beautiful sight below them, the pinnacle of humanity's efforts, of her own efforts.
"The stories are everywhere. Even when—"
As her throat burns, she realises that she needn't see it as a loser's desperate attempt to reconcile with their defeat. Not any longer. Not when there are so many who speak of the Jade Chamber with smiles on their faces.
“Even when my Jade Chamber is gone, it has not truly been lost.”
It started out as a childish dream. Ningguang has always wanted a legacy, and she had once thought that it meant opulence and affluence beyond measure. Of a home that spanned each corner of the world, what greater dream than such a thing? Of a home that spanned the length and breadth of Teyvat, large enough to throw shadows over even the brightest lights. The Jade Chamber had been the pinnacle of her grand tale that would remind all of herself and her achievements for the rest of their lives.
“My grand home lives on through the memories of those in the Harbour. The Jade Chamber will never die, not when its legacy lives through each tale that remembers it.”
Her home is submerged under Guyun. But somehow, it still extends over Liyue. And that is stronger than any plaustrite she could have ever hoped to build.
Keqing whispers, “The stories mean what we want them to.”
Calloused fingers press against her own. Ningguang pulls them up and presses her cheek into them, mirroring the shaky smile on her precious little Yuheng’s face.
“Maybe they can be a safety net,” she breathes. “So that even if we fall, there's something to catch and protect us."
Ningguang chuckles against her palm.
A safety net, prosperous and bustling and by the ocean, living and breathing stories every moment. Something to blunt the fall and soothe the wounds, because one heart cannot carry such a great burden alone. An organism that moves with the ebbs and flows of the tide, always shifting, always moving, but preserving the memories in something more sure than stone.
And if that is the case—
Ningguang closes her eyes.
"Keqing," she rasps. "My darling little Yuheng, I must ask—"
"Yes, Ningguang?"
Her little Yuheng is beside her now, with all of her vulnerability and her resilience, her bravery and her humility, all of the contrarian characteristics that make up this perfect creature. Losing is not difficult when it’s Keqing, she’s learned, because each fall is rewarded by sure arms wrapping around her waist and holding her close.
The trembling in her throat begs her to say it, to pluck it from the whispering in the winds and the sparkle of the sunshine.
Shakily, she whispers, “Would you buy the moon from me again, my little Yuheng?”
A moment, where the air shivers with her.
Then Keqing huffs out a laugh.
"Are you going to sell it to me at three times the original price?"
But her voice is fond, and Ningguang blinks her eyes open to a dazzling smile. Gasps out a chuckle, desperate and breathless, and waits for the answer, trembling and quivering.
Keqing cradles her face and brings their foreheads together.
“I will always buy the moon from you,” she whispers. “And I’ll wait however long it takes for you to sell it to me again.”
Golden, grating petals spill from her, even as their lips meet.
Unfurling beneath them is a myriad of memories, through the spiced oily air and bustle of commerce. Stories that float through the ships and weave into silk, carved into stone and sung through miner’s songs. Ningguang is already up so high, close to where her Jade Chamber once overlooked Liyue Harbour.
And beside her, the sweet conviction of Keqing’s smile.
Now, Ningguang thinks she can soar.
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Oppari:
A funeral song where mourners recount stories and memories of those who have passed.
They will scream and laugh in the same breath. They will sing one moment and tear at their hair the next. The difference between reminiscence and grief blurs, and then fades.
But that is only to be expected.
Because an oppari, while about the dead, is for the living.
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END