In the courtyard house south of Feiyun Slope, Liyue Harbor.
Head drooped, Ji Ming sat obediently on the carpet. "Senior Sister Ganyu, I was wrong."
On the grand chair beside him, Ganyu sat rigid with puffed cheeks, arms folded—and in her hand, the still-warm pipe. A mortal thing, and the strength in her grip looked ready to snap it in two.
He had to admit: angry Ganyu was adorable. Also… terrifying.
"Junior Brother Ji Ming, when did you pick up such a bad habit?"
She lifted the pipe and gave it a tiny shake. Behind the chair, Hu Tao peeked a mischievous face around the backrest and stuck out her tongue like: told you so.
Serves you right for puffing on that thing.
She'd come to chat today—only to find him brooding by the window, pipe in mouth. Furious, she'd planned to fetch reinforcements from Wanmin. But as she stepped out she ran into Ganyu. The moment Ganyu saw Ji Ming smoking, the gentle half-adeptus' aura flared. Hu Tao didn't even catch her movement—one blink and Ganyu was beside him, smiling serenely as she stared…and then pressed his shoulder back down.
"Junior Brother," she'd pronounced softly, "sit properly."
And now here they were. Ji Ming risked a glance up. "It's just to steady my mind. I don't use it often."
Ganyu didn't buy it. She tapped his head with the pipe. "Don't you have the breathing-and-circulation technique?"
"Cultivation is boring. I don't have the grit to practice every day…"
Ganyu looked past him to Hu Tao, her tone losing all sternness. "Miss Hu Tao, you're his landlord. When did he start this… habit?"
Hu Tao betrayed him in a heartbeat. "A couple days ago. I came back from Wuwang Hill and he was already smoking. Wouldn't listen when I told him to stop."
"Then I'll be confiscating this pipe."
Of course she recognized it—the pipe had once belonged to Ningguang. If Ji Ming had contact with Liyue's Tianquan in private, so be it. None of that mattered. She only wanted Ji Ming to be healthy.
As Cloud Retainer had written: if he could live long and well, then perhaps Ganyu would never again feel alone in that cooling-of-tea city called Liyue Harbor.
So he must stay healthy. Pipes were off-limits.
Ji Ming pulled a face. That pipe had gotten him into the Li estate. Without it, playing the aristocrat would be harder—even if he did have cash now.
"Senior Sister, I promise I won't smoke anymore—could you not confiscate it?"
He started to rise—bonk. Another tap from the pipe. He sat back down, shooting death glares at the giggling Hu Tao.
Laugh now. Someday I'll make you cry.
Ganyu sighed and turned to Hu Tao. "Miss Hu Tao, may we have a private word—just senior and junior? Would you mind giving us a moment?"
"Of course! Take your time."
Hu Tao made a face at Ji Ming and skipped out, closing the door behind her.
Once they were alone, Ganyu lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers, smiling. "Do you want to hold hands?"
"Yes—yes—yes!"
"Woof! Woof!"
"Baitang, hush!"
The little white dog popped out from under the bed, tail whirring at Ganyu. Ji Ming, mortified, shooed the idiot mutt back under the frame.
Ganyu blinked and withdrew her hand, surprised. "Since when did you decide to keep a pet?"
"A friend entrusted him. He's clever. Not much trouble."
Watching him stare at her hand like a forlorn puppy was too funny. She offered it again.
Cool and smooth—bliss. Her fingers were cold. He wrapped both hands around hers to warm them.
With her free hand, Ganyu stroked his hair. "Junior Brother, I don't want you touching such habits. They harm your body."
"It's not the lungs," he muttered. "And I only puff a pipe every couple days. No big deal."
Only when the mind had to tighten—especially when he killed. One strike to the vital point—no extra suffering. Those who fight in the dark all carry bitter fates; killing is only for a way to live, not for cruelty.
Ganyu didn't know that. She fell silent, then suddenly tugged him forward. He stumbled into the grand chair and into her arms, and her arms closed around his waist.
"From now on: no tobacco," she whispered. "If you must, come to my place for Qingxin. It's a fine replacement. I just want you to stay with me a few more years."
Her voice was soft and pleading. "Liyue has a saying—when a person leaves, the tea goes cold. If you leave me, I'll have no family left in this city."
A beauty trap? It had to be a beauty trap.
He breathed in the faint scent in her indigo hair, slipped a hand to the nape of her neck, and felt the ripples in his chest.
"I promise. I'll switch to Qingxin. And I'll work hard on my cultivation. I'll stay by Senior Sister's side forever."
"Qingxin is bitter. Cultivation is tiring. Can you keep at both?"
"Senior Sister's Qingxin is sweet. Cultivating with Senior Sister is light. I could keep at it for five thousand years."
Ganyu tilted her head, smiling. "Even I'm not five thousand."
He nuzzled her hair. "May I be bold—how old is Senior Sister?"
"Over three thousand. Does that scare you?"
He nodded honestly. "A little."
"Then I'll set a small goal," he said. "Three thousand years of cultivation."
Three thousand, and her face unchanged, brocade unwrinkled, untouched by dust—three thousand more and still the same. Mortal life is a flicker beside an adeptus. To hold her today was an honor; to hold her three millennia hence—still an honor.
Ganyu's eyes shone. Her embrace tightened. "Three thousand years? Cultivators must not speak false vows."
"Three thousand years," Ji Ming said. "Starting today."