Chapter Text
Keqing was never satisfied with something unless it was absolutely perfect. She would deny being a perfectionist, of course—she just wanted things done right. But everyone’s definition on what exactly was “right” for a project would always vary from person to person, and Keqing’s thoughts on the matter would always seem to be something along the lines of near flawless, if not just that.
But really, she wasn’t picky. She was a simple woman with simple needs and wants. It’s just a shame others couldn’t even live up to the simplest demands when put under pressure.
“How hard could it possibly be to order decaf instead of regular when I ask you to?” Keqing pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing loudly. That was it, this was the last straw! She’s excused far too many of his blunders already, and now it was clear he wasn’t fit for the position. After all, how could someone get something so simple wrong? “You’re fired.”
Her (now former) secretary’s eyes widened in shock, slack-jawed as he stared at her as if to ask “are you fucking serious" (and yes, she was), but he didn’t dare talk back to her (who would?). After all, the long list of former assistants was known to grow at an alarmingly fast rate, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before someone else bit the dust. If it weren’t for the lucrative paycheck that came along with the position and the prestige of being able to say you even got hired for the ridiculously difficult job on a résumé, most people would never dream of applying.
What a pain, Keqing thought to herself as she sat back down. People who even qualified for the position were few and far between, let alone those who actually were given the role. This last guy? He lasted two and a half months before being fired. Almost an entire week longer than the one before him. Definitely above average in terms of how long he managed to stay. Plus, he didn’t quit because he just couldn’t take it anymore. He’d definitely be getting the next job he applied to, so long as it wasn’t in the same company. If Keqing wasn’t the one firing him, she might even be impressed.
She took a look at the clock in the corner of her computer monitor, sighing once more when she saw the time. 10:50 AM. Only ten minutes before her meeting with the Ningguang, and now she has to suffer through it without her usual morning decaf.
Keqing cracked her knuckles before resuming the email she was previously working on. She only had ten minutes until her own productivity would grind to a halt.
There was a knock on the door the instant it turned eleven.
If there was one thing Keqing could admire about Ningguang, it’d be her dedication to being punctual. But if you asked if there were two… well, Keqing would have to get back to you in 3–5 business days.
“Come in,” Keqing called out, although it was completely unnecessary. Ningguang had already opened the door before she received a response. As usual. At first, it annoyed Keqing. Now? It still does, and it always will. What was the point in knocking if she just invited herself in anyway?
“Good morning, Keqing,” Ningguang greeted with her usual smug smile. By the archons, Keqing already wanted to throttle her just to wipe that fake grin off her face.
“Good morning to you too, Ningguang. Please, have a seat.” Keqing gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk. “Just give me a moment to finish up with this email.”
“Of course,” Ningguang said, waving a hand as if she were physically dismissing Keqing’s concerns. The personal assistant accompanying the older woman today pulled out the chair for her to sit in, as Ningguang’s assistants usually did for her. Keqing recognized her as Ganyu, the newest secretary Ningguang had hired. Although she had never spoken much to the other girl beyond occasional business emails and seeing her at Ningguang’s side during meetings, Keqing could tell she was a polite and hardworking individual from the few times they did interact. Oh, if only Keqing had an employee who was just half as capable. Somehow, she couldn’t even find one, but Ningguang somehow had a total of four dedicated assistants whom she ordered around like they were her servants.
What an entitled bitch, Keqing thought to herself bitterly, taking great care to not say it aloud.
For a minute or so, the room was silent save for the rhythmic clicking of a keyboard. Ningguang took this time to take out a pocket mirror and reapply her lipstick.
Satisfied with what she had drafted, Keqing hit send and turned to face Ningguang, whose lipstick looked the exact same as when she came in.
And people called her a perfectionist, she mused.
“Sorry about that, things have been hectic as of late, especially since I had to fire my assistant earlier today.”
Ningguang raised a brow at that, but not out of surprise. “Had to? What happened this time?”
“He got my coffee order wrong,” Keqing answered with a straight face. She gestured to the coffee still hot on the table. “It’s just regular black. You or your assistant are welcome to have it.”
Ningguang didn’t even bother trying to hold back a laugh. “Truly an unforgivable mistake. Unfortunately, I don’t drink black, and Ganyu here doesn’t drink any coffee.”
Keqing rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “See? Now this is just going to waste. I can’t keep people around who aren’t competent in their work no matter how small the mistake. It’s inefficient.”
“But isn’t replacing a personal assistant every few months inefficient in itself?” Ningguang reached out to take the coffee anyway, despite saying she didn’t drink black, and grimaced when she took a sip. Keqing watched bemused as she took another, despite clearly hating the flavor. “Ugh, this tastes horrid.”
“Then why are you drinking it?”
Ningguang put the drink back down, disgust still written all over her face. “Because I’d hate for it to go to waste too. Anyway, there’s only so many people you’ll be able to hire and fire before you run out of applicants. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to keep and train one in the long run?”
Keqing frowned. “It’s not like I don’t give them a chance. I give them plenty, and I’ve even been more lenient recently to try to not scare them off.”
Ningguang hummed nonchalantly while checking her cuticles. “And how’s that working for you?”
“Well, they’ve been quitting less often, or stay a little longer now if they eventually do. Doesn’t stop me from firing those who decide to stay in the end anyway.”
“Uh huh. Well, have you thought about not firing them over small issues like, I don’t know, the wrong coffee order? Or forgetting to properly color code your schedule, like the girl before him?”
Keqing scowled. “They shouldn’t be making mistakes like that in the first place, no matter how seemingly inconsequential. Besides, they’re replaceable. All they do is help me with my own work, but I’m completely capable of getting work done without them.”
Ningguang rolled her eyes. “Right, you say that now, but come crying to me when you’re drunk and overworked at night.”
“Ning!” Keqing exclaimed, face red. That was one time!
The older woman smiled at the use of an old nickname she hadn’t heard from Keqing in years. “Well, it happened, did it not? Who’s to say it won’t happen again?”
Keqing looked away, suddenly finding an empty notepad on her desk incredibly interesting to study in closer detail. It had the last things she wrote on the previous page imprinted onto the paper from the pressure of the pen. Truly a fascinating phenomenon.
“I was just… overwhelmed at the time,” she admitted, clearing her throat and straightening her posture. “I’m much more confident with my abilities and the position as CEO now, thank you very much.”
Ningguang nodded once, wincing as she returned to the noble task of finishing the rest of the abandoned coffee for the greater good. “Glad to hear it,” she said, glaring daggers at the offending drink.
“You know, you don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to.”
In response, Ningguang downed the entire thing, and it took every fiber in her being to not laugh at the way Ningguang shuddered afterward.
“Fuck,” Ningguang cursed as eloquently as one could in such a situation, and turned to her assistant. “Ganyu, could you get me some water?”
The blue-haired secretary nodded. “Of course, Lady Ningguang,” she said, and scurried off to the water cooler she knew was down the hall and to the left.
“Anyway,” Ningguang began, and turned toward Keqing (who was trying—and failing—to keep a straight face while watching all of this unfold). “I didn’t come here just to tease you and drink that disgusting coffee for you.”
Keqing smiled. “Yes, but I’m not going to complain if that was all you wanted to do.”
“Oh? Shall I take that as an admission? Do you perhaps like it when I tease you?” Ningguang winked, sticking her tongue out playfully.
And the smile was suddenly gone, just like that. “Not what I meant.”
Ningguang faked a theatrical pout as the door opened back up to reveal Ganyu rushing back in with a paper cup in hand, carefully placing it on the desk—only for it to immediately get snatched up by her boss.
After a long sip of what Keqing could only assume to be holy water in Ningguang’s eyes, she finally continued the conversation.
“I’ve already contacted the construction company and obtained all the permits, all that you need to do now is sign off on the project.” Keqing pulled open one of the cabinets of her desk, and took out a relatively thick folder. She reached over to grab a ballpoint pen, clicked it, and handed it to Ningguang. “Just put your signature where I’ve highlighted, and it’ll be good to go.”
And Ningguang did just that, signing off her name with a flourish. Once she was done, Keqing wordlessly took the forms from her and began to organize them.
Ningguang thoughtfully tapped her chin with a finger as she watched Keqing sort through various folders in a filing cabinet. “You know, if you’re down a secretary, I have—”
“No.” Keqing was not going to owe Ningguang any favors. She’d rather eat a rock than let that woman hold any leverage over her.
If being interrupted bothered Ningguang, she didn’t show it. “Please, Keqing, I’m not even half the villain you make me out to be. To think you used to look up to me when you were younger.”
Keqing blushed, self-consciously glancing over at the other woman’s secretary, who was currently preoccupied with typing something on her tablet and hopefully not listening in on their conversation. Fortunately, she seemed to be paying them no mind as she focused on her own work.
Her eyes returned back to meet Ningguang’s. “I was young, and you were different.”
“You mean I had no power,” Ningguang corrected with a tut.
“And power can corrupt people. I’ve seen you turn a blind eye to shady business deals because they work in your favor. I… I never thought you were the type of person to let greed take over, but I suppose I was mistaken. The worst part is I’m not even surprised since that’s just how politicians are, but I can't help but feel disappointed.”
Ningguang arched an eyebrow, tilting her head. “Are you lecturing me?” she asked in a dangerously low tone.
Keqing looked down at the pen in her hand, fiddling with it. “No, it’s just that I… never mind. It’s none of my business anyway,” she said with a sigh.
The older woman regarded her with an unreadable expression, and Keqing couldn’t find it in herself to make eye contact. “Indeed, it's not. Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t live up to your expectations, Miss Yunlai,” she said stiffly, and Keqing felt a shiver run down her spine as she stood up. “Thank you for taking time out of your day to see me. I know you must be busy today, so I’ll be taking my leave now. Ganyu—” The secretary looked up upon hearing her name, standing at attention. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”
“Y-yes, Lady Ningguang,” she replied with a bow, clutching her tablet against her chest. “Thank you for having us, Miss Yunlai. I will keep in touch to help supervise the construction process,” Ganyu said with a practiced smile, and Keqing couldn’t help but wonder about whether Ganyu was too nice for her own good or just masochistic enough to stick around working for Ningguang like her other assistants were.
“Right,” Keqing replied, her mouth suddenly feeling awfully dry. “I’ll get started on it right away.”
And with that, the two left her office, leaving the young businesswoman alone feeling terribly guilty.
She hadn’t expected Ningguang to get upset from the comments she made. In fact, Keqing wasn’t even sure what it was that she had said to make her mad. After all, Ningguang knew better than anyone else that Keqing rarely intended to be rude, but that was just the way she came off without meaning to. She hadn’t heard Ningguang refer to her so formally in years, back when Keqing was still a young child and Ningguang was a poor nobody.
Back when Ningguang was just the pretty babysitter little Yunlai Keqing had a crush on, not the leader of a nation.
Keqing rubbed at her temples, feeling a slight headache coming on.
Archons, this was gonna be a long day, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.