Rain veiled Yujing Terrace.
Keqing leaned on her hand, staring into a sheet of gray where even birds wouldn't risk a flight—much less the pampered elites who lived up here.
Down on the streets, merchants and passersby were probably scrambling for cover. Up here, watching aides get fetched one by one by parents or lovers, she felt… a little alone. No one came with a spare umbrella for the Yuheng. She just waited for the weather to pass.
Her mind strayed to the wedding. Kun family's heir had scarcely smiled—another tool in a political bargain. For a moment she felt kinship in misery; perhaps her own fate would be the same. The rain in her chest was just as heavy as the rain outside.
And those red cloth shoes—never to meet their fated owner—had ended up with… that rogue. Hopefully he wouldn't do anything indecent with them.
With a sigh she turned back to the rain—only to meet a pair of teasing eyes right outside the window.
"Good afternoon, Lady Yuheng."
"Rogue!"
Ji Ming shrugged, tilting his oiled-paper umbrella so beads of water slid down his collar. He shivered.
"I was going to escort a certain lonely Yuheng home, but the welcome I get is a curse word—truly…"
He swallowed the last part—truly delightful. She did look good calling him that; it was the only insult she ever used.
Noticing the umbrella, Keqing felt a twinge of guilt and murmured, "Sorry. If we annoy each other, why come?"
He jabbed a finger toward Yuehai Pavilion and smirked. "You were a bonus. I'd already walked my senior home. She praised me, mind you—unlike a certain Yuheng."
Tch. Go cling to your Ganyu shijie. Without her, would you bawl?
Arms crossed, side-eye sharp, Keqing said, "A 'bonus'? Then why not just head home instead of doubling back?"
"A moody purple cat-head peeking from a window is hard to miss."
The Yuheng's tsun swagger had clearly leveled up; give it years and it might rival the Jade Chamber.
He bowed and extended a hand. "Would Lady Yuheng do me the honor of a rainy stroll?"
"Knew you were up to no good. Otherwise you wouldn't have my red clo—"
Face flaming, she strangled the sentence. "Forget it. Nothing!"
A free umbrella-bearer is a free umbrella-bearer.
The moment she stepped under the canopy, she felt it tilt toward her. A hand settled lightly on her shoulder, drawing her in. Droplets slid down her nape—Ji Ming caught them off her skin with two fingers, grinning lazy as a thief.
"Lady Yuheng, that red cloth shoe is my treasured keepsake."
Wrong: it's the anti-ghost ward by his pillow.
"Rogue!"
When his hand landed on her shoulder she almost triggered Starward Sword. But he only guided her closer—no further liberties—so she kept it to a barked rebuke.
Hearing the shoe wasn't being misused, she relaxed, letting him keep her tucked close.
The rain seemed… lighter.
Staring ahead, he chuckled. "Hard to believe two people who 'can't stand each other' are this cozy. Feel anything?"
"Yes—the urge to cut you down."
Decent face when you shut up. Pity about the mouth.
He just smiled. She groped for a topic. "Is Baitang behaving?"
"Better than a certain Yuheng."
"Shut it."
They walked on. She glanced over—then stopped short. He stopped too. "What is it? Want me to carry you, Lady Yuheng?"
"Why is there blood on your undershirt?"
She yanked open his outer robe; flecks of red dotted the fabric beneath. If not for the swing of his stride, she'd have missed it.
"Lady Yuheng, optics," he said drily. "Even in a downpour, someone could be peeking like you were."
"So why the blood?"
She probed the spots with careful fingers, searching for wounds. Finding none, she exhaled.
He gently removed her hand from his chest and tucked it back into his arm. "Walk with me. I'll explain when we get there."
Rain stippled the harbor. Far out, concentric rings overlapped across the sea like a vast net—mesmerizing, unreal.
"When I was little, I fished off the docks."
"Was it tasty?"
Her cheeks warmed at their laced fingers, but she matched his bait with a question.
"No idea," he laughed. "I just remember a beating. They called me a fatherless whelp and said that pier was their gang's turf. I wasn't even ten."
So that's why he joined a gang? Pity stirred. She squeezed his hand.
"I'm not begging for comfort," he said softly. "If you'll listen—that's comfort enough."
Her grip tightened.
They reached a rare stone arch bridge. A pang of guilt flickered. He'd found a new roof and forgotten his old one.
"For a long time I slept under that bridge. I was ten. I lived on scrap ore from the Chasm's rim. That year I met Ganyu. She gave me a primer and a few new outfits."
"I lost the book. Wore the clothes to rags. And kept clawing my way through Liyue."
"Can I look?" Keqing asked.
He blinked, then smiled. "It's your call."
Under the arch, no one—just a moldy mat. Hard to believe he'd lived in that wet darkness.
They moved on. He pointed to a narrow alley on Feiyun Slope. "You ever brawl, I mean the dirty kind?"
"No. Only crossed swords."
"In there, I fought my most memorable fight. Not for me or for the Old Nine Gates—for someone with no ties to me."
"For who?"
He drifted in memory, then shook his head. "Not quite right. Call it repayment."
She eyed the cramped alley, now clogged with crates. "Repayment? You're eighteen—you were even younger then. Hu Tao… did something for you?"
He let her hand go, rapped her forehead with a knuckle, then took her hand again. "She was thirteen. What debt? The debt was to Old Hu. When he learned my parents were gone, he offered free rites and graves at Wuwang Hill."
Ji Ming had refused—the will asked their ashes be scattered into the sea.
"So why repay with fists?" Keqing pressed.
"No choice. A few punks heckled on the day of Old Hu's funeral—calling Hu Tao a curse-star who killed her parents then her grandpa. Filth."
"I thought, if I'm still a man, I can't watch the old man's granddaughter be smeared."
"And then?"
"I shouted back that they were piss-stained kennel brats raised on horse troughs and dog dung. They chased me. I baited them into that one-person alley, forced one-on-ones, went for the lowest targets. They dropped quick. So did I—face like a melon."
"Haha… and then?"
"How many 'and thens' do you want?"
"Did Hu Tao at least buy you dinner?"
Right—genius at work, utter goof off duty.
They left the harbor for the Tianheng ranges, followed the river to Qingxu Pool, and reached a battered but spotless Tongque Temple. Three big chests sat inside, chained and locked.
"Remember what I told you at the teahouse?"
"Your oath here with your sworn brothers. You killed a rich man who hoarded grain."
Inside, he released her hand, folded the umbrella, and handed it to her. From his hidden pouch he produced a pipe, a matchbox, and three sticks of incense.
He almost lit the leaf, then glanced back. "Hate the smell?"
She frowned. "I can tolerate it. Since when did you start?"
Same mold as Hu Tao, he thought. He hadn't tried smoking before Ganyu yet—maybe next time.
He lit the bowl, then used the dwindling match to fire the incense.
"Hold these."
With the pipe back between his teeth, he drew his short knife and hacked the locks. Inside each chest: a man, gagged, bound, barely breathing.
Keqing's pupils shrank. She shot him a look. He gave a crooked smile. "Sorry—talk later. Please don't stop me."
He dragged the three to the bronze sparrow idol, reclaimed the incense, and bowed low.
"Honored spirits, I shed blood before your image today. These three are full to bursting with evil. I act for the Way—do not take offense."
He planted the incense, then cut them down one by one—clean, merciless. Blood spattered the floor, and his already stained undershirt.
"Ji Ming, you—"
"A promise is a promise. Cleaning house for you."
Her fury collapsed into a knot she didn't know how to untie. "You can't keep killing. It should have been my job."
"Exactly. But you're the beloved Yuheng. Your hands don't need filth. Let me do it."
No mockery, only resolve. "Keqing, I've decided not to dislike you anymore."
"Why?"
"Because you listen. I don't dislike people who listen."
He stuffed the corpses back into the chests and relocked them. His brothers would handle the cleanup.
He wiped the blade clean and slid it away—then a sharp kick landed square on his backside.
He stumbled forward, clutching his rear. "What was that for?!"
Keqing tilted her head, leg still raised, smiling with her eyes. "Felt good. May I do it again?"
"I take it back. I'll keep disliking you."
"Excellent. You just now were too hard to process. This Ji Ming suits me."
"I'm leaving. Play by yourself."
"That's the tone. Much better."
Is this offense-defense switching practice? he thought dimly.
She tossed the umbrella back to him, grinning. "I've got dirt on you now. You'll follow my orders. Every time it rains, you come pick me up."
"No. I've got a senior to fetch. No time for a bride-to-be."
She ignored him and sprinted to the doorway, calling into the thinning rain:
"Ji Ming is the worst! I'm going to hate him forever!"
Outside Tongque Temple, the rain began to ease.