Chapter Text
Fractured sunlight peeked through the canopies of trees that led the way up an unmarked stone path. Beidou glanced up from the map she scrutinized and looked back as the sound of tires rolling atop course gravel grew more distant.
A mirthful scoff slipped past her teeth at the memory of the driver’s skeptical gaze through the mirror as he pulled over and let her off. “Be careful out there, Miss. It would be a disservice to the world to lose a beauty like you.”
She knew well that in the face of assumptions and misunderstandings like his, it was best to meet them with nothing more than a million mora smile. For a woman with strength, a woman who could hold her own… was a threat, and seldom long for this world.
Apologies for the stroll through the overgrowth at the edge of the forest, it bodes well for keeping our manor out of reach from those with ill intentions. Once you find the golden pearlroot tree, continue seven and twenty paces northeast until you reach the lamppost. It should be smooth sailing from then on. Safe travels. The note was written on the back of the folded map nestled behind the letter it came with.
From their first exchange, Beidou was strictly instructed not to relay details of the location to absolutely anyone. Considering the forgone personal address or lack of even a single given name to speak of, she certainly was not surprised.
With summer nearly swept away, it was just her luck that she had not been hired a month later. But, with fortune on her side, that sunset-kissed shrub stuck out amidst the endless verdance like a sore thumb.
In no time at all, she happened upon the moss-covered lamppost nestled between tangled branches. A manmade stairway littered with fallen foliage lay beyond the lamp’s faint glow and Beidou muttered thanks to herself for refusing to wear heels. The climb was accompanied only by echoing birdsong and the soft crunch of leaves under leather soles. Albeit peaceful, unease crept over her instinctually.
Beidou was not only quick at the draw but quick to suspect, if only out of habit. Many nights were spent on the run or in combat, whether by fist, blade, or that clever mouth of hers.
She did not like the labels ‘con artist’ and ‘thief’ for they cheapened the nature of her work. Rather, her agility and wit were meant to balance the scales; to set things right between those less privileged versus those who trod upon their muddied backs.
Smuggling goods from overseas, intercepting shipments meant for politicians and aristocrats to gift villages in need and thwarting the execution of every unjust law The Qixing held in place. Beidou had eyes and ears all over Liyue, as well as a barrel of enemies who wanted her head on a pike. Though, none of them came close to uncovering her identity, for she came and went quick as lightning. And so, from mountain to harbor, she was known as Dian Mu’s Retribution .
Her daylight hours were far more humble. Beidou took up odd jobs here and there but mostly stuck to sailing. Though, when she did touch dry land long enough, old colleagues and friends would flock to call for her aid in training their juniors to fight as well as she had in their youth.
Once the wind carried word of her skills, she was soon summoned to temples and the homes of nobility for lessons as well. It felt like tar in her veins to accept, but she did so with gritted teeth for the sake of the funds and access to information that would ensure a brighter future for her people.
An archway of vines appeared before her. Crossing over the threshold, she was met with fresh-cut grass and silk flower bushels carved out by a driveway of paved cobblestone. As Beidou approached the manor’s front gates of gold and black iron, she caught a pair of timeworn eyes peering at her from below the brim of a straw hat. “You must be Miss Beidou,” the older fellow called out to her from where he trimmed the hedges that lined the outer perimeter like soldiers at the ready.
She re-folded the map and tucked it away in the pocket of her trousers. “Were you a fortune teller in a past life, uncle?” Beidou joked with a cheeky grin. The gardener offered her a warm chuckle, “Seldom does this manor receive visitors, especially not a fresh face. I was asked to be out front in anticipation of your arrival, else you might be left waiting at the door until the morrow.”
Interesting, she thought to herself while he fussed with the ring of keys at his belt and moved to undo the locks. Amidst the creaks of rusted hinges, he gestured for her to pass through and be on her way with a gentle smile. She offered a courteous nod and strode forth until she was no longer shielded from the sun by the once seemingly endless awning of greenery.
Beidou had an eye for gold, and even in the blinding daylight, she found herself struck still at the sight of it. As wide and billowing as the clouds that gathered over the sea, a ginkgo tree stood at the very heart of the inner grounds before her. Flakes of autumnal gold fluttered in the breeze and drew her in like a tidal storm. It was far too soon for the leaves to have changed, but it was no trick of the light as confirmed by every step that brought it closer into view. Her hand smoothed over the bark, sturdy as the boat she helmed that remained docked in Liyue Harbor for the time being.
She lifted an open palm to catch a falling leaf, admiring the shape as though it were hand-cut to resemble the horn of a gramophone. In her periphery, she felt the burn of observation and twisted her neck only in time to see the curtains of a second-story window swing past the panes like they were hastily shut back into place. Beidou let the golden petal sink to the earth below as she continued on toward the estate, a grin stretched across her mouth at the prospect of discovering just who was spying on her from behind the ochre satin-framed glass.
Hushed giggles greeted her at the stone steps that led to the waxed oak doors as a few handmaids watched her from underneath the linens they had strung up to dry beside a fruitless hawthorn apple tree.
Elders seldom regarded the way she dressed and neither did the more youthful company she kept, but upper class folks and those who closely tended to their needs were unable to stifle their judgment. Whilst other women stuck to corsets, skirts, and finely tailored dresses, Beidou could not be bothered with the frills and baubles that would not fair well in most of the situations she found herself in. She even felt bad the few times she was forced to tear into a petticoat or have a bodice stained irreparable with blood out of respect for the handiwork of the seamstresses who put every drop of sweat into their work.
Instead, she took to wearing men’s clothes, oftentimes three-piece suits she stumbled upon secondhand and had altered by Kazuha’s (her right-hand man whom she considered a younger sibling) nimble fingers. He had no qualms about her manner of dress either, but chided her for bringing home vests dusted with gunpowder or singed by the flames of a burning building she hastily escaped. “Know that I have lost several hours to these tainted fibers while my ink and pen ached with longing, Beidou-jiejie.”
And with that memory fresh in her mind she turned to the gossiping hens and dared them to face her gaze directly. In turn, they could only gasp in embarrassment for having been caught and scurried off to their respective duties while she chuckled under her breath.
Ivory jade was molded into the figure of a curled dragon to form the single knocker hung from the manor’s entrance. She grasped the body of it, admiring the carved scales and cor lapis eyes before letting it hit the dark wood with a heavy thud. Barely a minute later, a woman with cropped brunette hair and a crimson qipao opened the door and gave her a once over. “Miss Beidou?” she inquired. Beidou procured the letter from the lining of her blazer and offered it to the attendant with a curt nod. “In the flesh,” she replied with a wink.
The woman quickly confirmed her identity with the contents of the letter and shoved the parchment back toward her before hastily concealing the tips of her ears that were now flushed with the faintest shade of pink beneath her hair. “My name is Baiwen, I am the lady of the manor’s lead assistant. Allow me to escort you to the tea parlor while my lady finishes preparing for your meeting.”
The address said nothing of her age for she was well acquainted with how attendants and the like referred to nobility of the feminine persuasion both young and old, but she somehow preferred the idea of being at the mercy of a child.
Baiwen led her through the dim foyer and she scanned the halls for any clues as to who she was meant to be working for. Rare antiquities from all across Teyvat lined every wall and table throughout each room they passed.
Beidou became enamored by the collection more and more as they walked, entirely distracted from her original train of thoughts. Opalescent conches from the depths of Enkanomiya, a framed aerial map of wind currents spanning Mondstadt, a grand piano of midnight blue with a leatherbound booklet of orchestrations surely from Fontaine, a bookcase exclusively stacked with scrolls for researchers enrolled at the Akademiya in Sumeru, and a Inazuman kitsune mask littered with hand-painted sakuras; there were marvels from floor to ceiling and they had stolen the seafarer’s attention long enough for her to fall into a trance and nearly walk right into the smaller woman guiding her ahead.
“Please have a seat, my lady should be with you in just a moment. As for the tea prepared for you this afternoon, it is a blend of pu-erh and oolong leaves accented with a vibrant hint of grapefruit, and sweetened by white peonies and marigold petals,” Baiwen explained while offering her a seat on the plush velvet chaise and pouring her a steaming cup. Beidou plopped down, still eyeing the many trinkets and artworks surrounding her. Her nostrils swelled with the earthy aroma of stewed tea leaves and she exalted a sigh at the floral sweetness that followed close behind it.
Baiwen left the room with a bow of her head and Beidou let her chin rest in her palm with her elbow propped on the arm of the loveseat. No matter how tantalizing the hot beverage appeared, she would not so easily drink what a stranger offered her; nor would she become so unguarded as to let the material wonders lain about the estate’s interior let her fall prey to any potential traps awaiting her.
Strapped to her thigh beneath the fabric of her trousers was a sharpened dagger, and two small knives lay tucked into a secret compartment built into the heels of her oxfords as well. Losing, especially not her life, is not something she intended to have a close call with again for as long as she could manage to help it.
Within earshot, Beidou heard the soft click of heels on polished hardwood grow closer by the second. Calculated, practiced, and poised. It was not the footwork of a mere child, but a woman with years of perfecting the art of elegant strides at her feet.
A trigger within the cords of Beidou’s heart cocked like a pistol. The steps were soon accompanied by a familiar melody laced within a hum like honey and clover. Maiden’s Longing ; it was a tune favored by songstresses of the previous generation and Beidou rarely heard it beyond the outskirts of village markets. She rose as a trail of thin smoke wafted through the open doors and the footsteps ceased just outside.
Slowly, two legs rounded the corner and brushed past a glazed porcelain vase. An ankle length qipao of birch-colored satin split at her thigh, but Beidou trailed up her lithe figure and stared straight into two vermillion jewels whose gaze felt icier than shivada jade.
By the sly curve of her painted lips the soft wave of white gold tresses pooling over her shoulders, Beidou would know that face anywhere. She prowled around the room, bringing the long pipe that sat between her gloved fingers to her lips, inhaling and blowing out three rings of calendula and blue lotus smoke.
Beidou willed herself to remain calm and not let even the most minuet muscle in her brow give her away while the woman made her way to the seat across her own. She crossed her legs and observed her for a what felt like hours to the brunette still standing then finally spoke, “Well, I certainly did not expect Xiansheng to request a woman for the task at hand, but I will say I am rather intrigued. Please, do sit down. Had I not known you had arrived, I would have thought you a very well-made statue. You may call me Ningguang; no need for the fuss of titles or propriety, one would forget their own name if they heard it called as little as I do.”
Beidou knew exactly who she was with no need for introduction.
Ningguang, Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing.
The woman responsible for Liyue’s commerce as well as any laws and policies held in place for its supposed economic welfare.
As well as the woman who had the infamous Dian Mu’s Retribution plastered on wanted posters throughout the harbor with a fourteen million mora bounty attached.
Yes, the same one who would love for nothing more than Beidou to be locked up or found dead was who she was contractually obligated to train in the art of combat.
And that very same Tianquan, sat mere feet away, had no idea who she was.