Buyun was the gate guide for the Jade Chamber—one of Ningguang's long-time, ironclad confidants.
In all his years at the Tianquan's side, he had never seen her personally invite a young man upstairs.
This black-haired boy was a first.
"Mr. Ji Ming, this way."
Since he was Ningguang's guest, there was no need for countersigns. Buyun brought Ji Ming into a small courtyard, checked that no one was around, then activated the lift array. It would take a few minutes.
While they waited, Buyun studied the youth and probed, "How old are you, Mr. Ji?"
"Not yet nineteen."
"So—eighteen."
A thought flickered: a relative of Lady Ningguang?
No—there'd been no such person in the hard-scrabble years before she rose to Tianquan.
…Then perhaps—a favored companion?
It would make sense. Ningguang was thirty-five; such needs were human. As a loyal retainer, his duty was to keep the secret.
He put away his final trace of contempt, and with genuine gravity said, "The mechanism is ready. Lady Ningguang is strong-willed. If she's found a confidant, please—be gentle with her."
Ji Ming thought a moment. "Understood. I will."
Whatever story the man was spinning—labels were tools. If a label earned him leverage, Ji Ming could wear it for now.
The floating stone chimed; moments later Ji Ming stepped onto the Jade Chamber's platform. A pony-tailed woman with glasses came to meet him, face cool.
"You're Ji Ming?"
…No honorifics, and hostility out of the gate.
The guide had been courteous; this one was a thornbush.
"I am. Lady Tianquan called me here—is there something she requires?"
"Lady Ningguang is unfathomable. Don't presume to guess. Follow me—and don't gawk. If you do, I'll gouge your eyes out."
Girl, which gang are you from?
Ji Ming kept silent and followed—and looked. What, would she truly scoop his eyeballs?
She bristled, but could do nothing—her threat had been just that: a threat. In her head the story was the same as Buyun's: this boy was Ningguang's picked plaything.
Unforgivable! The peerless Lady Ningguang—descending to a mortal like this? This was cosmic injustice. Heaven should strike him down!
Inside, Ningguang had not yet arrived. Ji Ming stood aside and smiled. "May I have your name?"
"Baishi. It's what Lady Ningguang bestowed upon me. I attend to her daily life."
Why did she sound proud?
Ji Ming's mouth twitched. He cupped a hand politely. "Miss Baishi, we've no prior grudge. Why the resentment?"
"Hmph." She looked away. "I know you're here to cling to Lady Ningguang."
Ji Ming wanted to laugh. Was brain-spinning a job requirement under the Tianquan? She had invited him.
Silk rustled. Ningguang descended from the second floor in embroidered satin, a faint steam at her hair's edge—she'd just bathed.
"Baishi. Have you forgotten the etiquette I taught you?"
Baishi flinched and bowed. "Lady Ningguang, I only meant to make him give up on currying—"
"Apologize to Mr. Ji."
"…Yes." Baishi's cheeks puffed. She shuffled over and muttered, "I apologize, Mr. Ji."
Seeing the apology, Ningguang eased her tone. The girl wasn't malicious—just jealous over a misunderstanding. A tap on the wrist would do.
Ji Ming waved it off. "It's fine. Kids don't know better. Uncle's got candy—go play."
He even produced oiled paper-wrapped sugar cubes from his sleeve and offered them to the fuming Baishi.
Ji Ming didn't hold grudges. He settled them on the spot.
Baishi clenched her molars. She was older than him—he was the child!
"Mr. Ji truly is amusing. Please, sit." Ningguang smiled, not at all bothered that her secretary had been teased. "What kind of tea do you prefer?"
"The most expensive. I can't tell the taste—but I know the price."
"Then—Chenyu Immortal Dew. Liyue's 'Golden Dewdrop,' famed even overseas."
Baishi poured. Ji Ming didn't accept. He smiled, eyes unwarmed, alert beneath the surface.
"Tea is one thing. But Lady Tianquan didn't invite me just to drink, did she?"
Ningguang's interest sharpened. "Then why do you think I summoned you?"
She'd clearly done her homework.
"Because I'm valuable to you."
"And how much are you worth?"
Baishi blinked at their riddle-trade, completely lost. Shouldn't this be a crass, coin-reek exchange? What was this coy little dance?
Ji Ming understood. She was making him name his value. If he had none—he wouldn't even finish his tea.
If he had enough—she'd deepen ties. How deep, depended on the value he showed.
People-reading. Social wristwork.
He downed the "Golden Dewdrop" in one smooth swallow, ignoring Baishi's "barbarian!" face, and relaxed back into his lazy air.
Soldiers block, water dams.
"I'm worth whatever price Lady Tianquan offers."
The mercenary answer. Ningguang, seasoned by a lifetime of favors traded and burned, approved. Better coin than nebulous "sentiment."
If the mora was right—or the profit—Ji Ming would move.
"Then one question, answered truthfully?"
"Questions cost mora. You decide the rate."
He owed the Fatui half a Jade Chamber's worth. He needed cash, or else risk the strings tightening.
Ningguang lifted a pipe, propped her temple, smiling. "You're very much to my taste. Consider this pipe a gift. How many questions does it buy?"
Not that she wouldn't pay—this was a test. If he wanted other things more than money, she would not engage.
Baishi gaped. That pipe had just been used before her bath—how could she just hand it to a man? Don't do it, Lady Ningguang!
"What's it worth?" Ji Ming asked.
Pipes in Liyue could be rich or rustic. This one was custom, price steep.
"Philistine." Baishi muttered. "No eye for the sublime."
Child. Shoo.
Ji Ming looked only at Ningguang.
Appreciation warmed Ningguang's gaze. She flicked a wrist. "Call it a meeting gift. As for mora—ten thousand a question. Acceptable?"
"Fair. Ask."
But she didn't—yet. She turned her palm up, playful.
"No meeting gift for me, Mr. Ji? The red cord on your wrist looks lovely. A token—perhaps?"
"Anything but that. It's from my senior sister. It won't be given away."
"Ganyu?"
Of course she'd dug that far. With the cards shown, Ji Ming relaxed.
"No. Another senior sister. Does that count as a question?"
Another? Ningguang had little interest in Adepti circles. They protected Liyue; that was enough.
"Naturally. Next—are you a collaborator of the Fatui?"
"Yes. A secret partner of one of the Harbingers."
Ningguang's brows knit. "Which Harbinger?"
"Can't say. Another question, please."
Good. He kept other employers' lines—trustworthy as a partner.
"Have they assigned you any tasks?"
"Not at present. I haven't been asked to act."
"Any notable redeployments lately?"
Ji Ming recalled the woman at the Bank—crimson eyeshadow, crown, backless cold. He nodded.
"Yes. A Harbinger codenamed 'The Lady' was sent to Mondstadt."
If The Lady had gone, then Ji Ming's partner likely remained in Liyue. The question was—for what?
Ningguang rose and extended a hand across the table.
"From this moment, we're partners, Mr. Ji."
Ji Ming blinked. "From now? Not from before the questions? Was that… a test?"
"Just paying for information. Now we formalize cooperation. Any objections?"
None. The Tianquan left no seams.
Ji Ming switched the pipe to his left hand and clasped her right firmly.
"No objections. About that mora…"
Ningguang glanced at the pipe, smiling like sun on marble.
"Baishi will deliver it to your home presently."
So he'd been fully opened and cataloged. Ji Ming accepted the reality.
Baishi, still stunned by how much state-level intel had just flown by, led him out.
Once he was gone, Ningguang's smile vanished.
Snezhnaya had little sincerity. The Fatui were already extending claws into Liyue.
She would fund Ji Ming—make him the Fatui's most trusted collaborator—until he could feed her their intentions.
Once she identified and broke the coming scheme… he would have outlived his usefulness.
As for the pipe?
A small lowering-guard gift.
Just like Ji Ming, it was a tool—to be discarded when spent.
For Ningguang, only two things truly mattered in this world: mora—and Liyue Harbor.
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