At dawn, the sky was still dim, and Liyue Harbor remained wrapped in quiet stillness. A slender blue-haired young woman walked lightly through the empty streets.
Ahead, a familiar figure appeared.
She quickened her pace and approached, bowing respectfully.
"My Lord… you're out so early. Is there something you need me to do?" Zhongli raised a hand gently. "Ganyu, no need for such formality."
"I do have something to ask of you. Deliver this to the Tianquan." He drew a sheet of paper from his sleeve.
Ganyu accepted it with both hands, careful and reverent, then stored it properly. "My Lord, rest assured. I will see it done."
Zhongli nodded, hesitated, then asked, "Ganyu… how much do you know about your junior, Song Yinjian?"
Ganyu paused, surprised by the question, then answered honestly.
"I've been in Liyue Harbor. I only heard that Master accepted a disciple with very poor aptitude. Beyond that, I know little."
"He did come to see me not long ago, but I was too busy to meet him." Zhongli considered, then said, "Your junior is a rare talent."
"If you have time, persuade him more. Encourage him to become one of the Qixing." "Mm." Ganyu agreed at once.
After parting, she stopped by a breakfast stall at the docks and ate a simple, warm meal. When the sun rose, she arrived at the Jade Chamber.
Ningguang was still asleep, so Ganyu stood at its edge, gazing down at the bustling harbor as her thoughts drifted.
Thinking of Song Yinjian, guilt rose in her chest.
As his senior, she'd never once looked after him—always swallowed by work. It was… hard to justify.
He ran a funeral business, didn't he? Should she introduce him to some "clients"?
Uncle Tian, the Tian Shu, had gray hair already… by calculation, he didn't have many days left. That would be perfect for her junior.
And the Kaiyang's elderly mother… Keqing's grandparents…
Before she knew it, the morning had passed. Ningguang finally woke.
When she learned Ganyu had been waiting, she immediately had her brought into the study.
"I'm truly sorry," Ningguang said with a polite, apologetic smile. "My subordinates were thoughtless and made you wait."
Ganyu waved it off with a gentle smile.
"I told them not to wake you. It isn't your working time yet—you need rest." Ningguang's tone was sincere. "If you come to me with business, any hour is fine." "Is this an instruction from my Lord?"
Ganyu nodded and produced the paper Zhongli had given her, handing it over. "This is what my Lord asked me to deliver to you."
Ningguang unfolded it and read with full attention.
The contents detailed Zhang Xiaoli's tragedy, then recounted Northland Bank's long-standing abuses—demanding the Qixing rectify Liyue's usury industry and compel Northland Bank to hand over the culprit.
Ningguang fell into deep thought.
The demands sounded simple. In practice, they would be anything but. And the greatest resistance wouldn't come from Northland Bank—
It would come from the major merchants, guilds, and commercial powers… including the Qixing themselves.
Almost all of them ran loan businesses. The only differences were interest rates and collection methods.
After a brief moment, Ningguang made her decision. "Please trouble you, Adeptus Envoy."
"Summon all the Qixing to Yuehai Pavilion." Ganyu nodded and left swiftly.
…
In the shadowy hall of Mister Zhang's estate, the air was silent. Only Song Yinjian moved.
With practiced calm, he dressed Zhang Xiaoli in a bright burial shroud and tidied what remained of her features as best he could.
It was—frankly—gruesome.
Even Shenhe, whose will was unshakably steady, frowned and turned away.
When he finished, Song Yinjian let out a soft sigh. He lifted a thin veil and covered Zhang Xiaoli's face, as if shielding her from the last cruelty the world could offer.
Then he began arranging the mourning hall, wordless.
He'd originally intended to give Zhang Xiaoli a slightly more dignified funeral. But the "ginseng" had turned out to be fake.
So now… all he could afford was something simple.
While he worked, Shenhe's cool voice rang out, clear as mountain spring water in the still hall. "Junior… how can you remain expressionless in a scene like this?"
Song Yinjian paused and turned to her. His eyes held a weary calm, as if he'd seen too much. "Maybe because I've seen it too often."
"To me… they're all just people with bitter fates."
"Mm." Shenhe answered softly and fell silent again, standing beside him. Song Yinjian nodded and returned to his work.
After a while, Shenhe spoke again, voice still flat—yet pain threaded through every word. "My mother… later became like this too."
"But at the time, I… didn't dare look even once."
Song Yinjian stopped. He stepped closer and looked into her ice-blue eyes, gentle but firm. "Senior Sister… I think your mother wouldn't have wanted you to remember her that way."
A flicker of relief passed through Shenhe's gaze. Her voice remained cool, but something else surfaced beneath it.
"Thank you, Junior."
"If one day you die… I will cremate you earlier." Song Yinjian: "…"