Luckily, Xu Zheng had found a quiet little path when returning to Liyue. Unseen and unheard, he slipped back into the courtyard like a professional delinquent.
Ganyu was hard at work inside Moon Carver Pavilion, but a sudden sense of unease crept up her spine. She stood up, looked outside—and sighed in relief.
There he was. Xu Zheng, sitting quietly in the courtyard, blowing into his flute like a little cultivator in training.
She smiled softly, though guilt tugged at her chest.
Come to think of it, she'd been so busy lately… hadn't spent enough time with him.
When she was a child, Cloud Retainer had practically hovered over her like a helicopter adeptus. She used to think her master was annoying and often snuck off just to get a moment of peace.
But now, all grown up, Ganyu could admit… Cloud Retainer wasn't so bad when she wasn't talking.
"Master!"
Xu Zheng spotted her and gave a wave, looking suspiciously innocent.
She didn't see me sneak out earlier to do that weird system mission, right?
Hearing him call her, Ganyu felt her heart flutter. She smiled gently and asked,
"Little Xu Zheng, did you have fun today?"
"Y-Yeah. Pretty great."
Not exactly a lie. He did have fun. Dodging slimes, bribing them with food, barely surviving… yep, fun.
Ganyu cupped her mouth and shook slightly, as if suppressing a laugh—or a sob.
Aww…
He's pretending he had fun just so I won't feel bad for being busy… what a sweet boy…
Her eyes glistened with emotion. Right then and there, she made a silent vow:
I'm spending the whole day with him today. Work be damned.
"???"
Xu Zheng tilted his head. What's with that expression? Is she… crying?
"Master, what's wrong? Who bullied you?"
He rushed to her side, tugging her dress anxiously.
Ganyu crouched down and hugged him tight, whispering near his ear,
"Come on. Let Master take you out to play."
Right then, Ganyu decided—today, she was just Ganyu, not the busy secretary of Liyue.
She grabbed Xu Zheng's little hand and the two slipped away from Yuehai Pavilion, heading toward the bustling market streets.
From behind, Ningguang watched them go, smiling faintly.
"Go rest. If anything important happens, I'll have someone inform you," she murmured.
"Lady Ganyu must be tired," Baibin said gently beside her.
"A Ganyu like this… more human, more emotional—don't you think she's more trustworthy that way?"
Before Baibin could reply, Ningguang added casually,
"Her duties—split them up between you, Baishi, and Baixiao."
"Yes, ma'am," Baibin said, practically skipping off.
After all, if three people were splitting one person's job… how hard could it be? If you've got hands, you're qualified.
Lady Ganyu, go enjoy yourself. We've got your soul-crushing paperwork covered.
The two strolled into the heart of Liyue's main market.
"Fresh candied hawthorn skewers! Just made!"
"Jade carvings on clearance—don't miss out!"
"Fresh fruit and veggies—picked this morning!"
As expected of the City of Contracts, the streets were alive with sales pitches and shopkeepers waving signs in people's faces.
Xu Zheng couldn't stop looking around. His head turned left and right, overwhelmed by all the new sights.
Ganyu had taken him to eat at Wanmin Restaurant before, but she'd always avoided the busy market streets.
So this… was all new to him.
"Xu Zheng, want some candied hawthorn?" Ganyu pointed at an old granny selling glistening red skewers.
"Yes!"
According to Xu Zheng's worldly wisdom: accepting food from people builds relationships faster than any formal bonding ritual.
He only needed to make sure it wasn't just an empty offer.
But Ganyu? She was 100% sincere.
"Master, open wide."
"Eh?"
Without thinking, Ganyu obeyed instinctively—and opened her mouth.
A second later, her eyes widened as she felt something stuffed between her lips. A sticky, sweet something.
It was Xu Zheng. He'd shoved the skewer straight into her mouth.
"Mmph!"
Muffled protests came out as Ganyu puffed her cheeks, eyes wide, her whole face screaming betrayal via sweets.
She looked so pouty. So flustered. So…
"Master, you're adorable," Xu Zheng said with complete sincerity.
SHOOM. Her face went red. Instantly.
"L-Let's keep walking," she said, quickly grabbing his hand. "There's a lot more to see!"
Vendors called out left and right, each louder than the last.
"Hey kid! Check out these kites!"
"Toys! You like toys?"
"Hey little guy! Come here, Auntie's got something big to show you—"
"???"
Xu Zheng turned his head. Oh, of course. Who else could it be?
Ying'er. Again.
"Ganyu, out with your little disciple again?"
Her voice deliberately dragged on the word 'little' like she was teasing both of them.
Ganyu smiled politely. "Yes, just enjoying the day."
Xu Zheng squinted. Why do they keep emphasizing the 'little' part?!
Suddenly—
"Watch out!"
Ying'er shouted, her expression twisting with urgency.
A horse-drawn carriage came barreling toward them, wheels clattering furiously. It was seconds away from crashing right into them.
With a child's body like his, getting hit would mean serious injury—or worse.
Normally, Ganyu's reflexes would've kicked in. But today… she wasn't operating on solo-secretary mode. She'd let her guard down.
Just as she lunged to protect him—
Xu Zheng's body reacted on its own.
His eyes flashed red for a moment. Strength surged. He moved faster than her, knocking her out of harm's way.
The world spun. Something soft hit his face. Sweet. Warm. Squishy.
A mouthful of milk scent and something that definitely wasn't snow.
"Xu Zheng!"
Ganyu, now on the ground, quickly sat up and checked on the boy lying on top of her.
He blinked, lifted his head—then froze.
He was face-down in Ganyu's chest.
The candied hawthorn? Smeared right across it like some kind of sacrificial jelly.
10/10 target acquired. Status: dying of embarrassment.
His trusty purple flute had flown from his sleeve during the fall. Somehow, Ying'er had caught it.
She held it up, gently gripping the shaft. "Oh? This flute's slippery."
Xu Zheng winced. Why does this feel like spiritual damage?
He got up, held his aching waist, and approached her like a war-torn soldier.
"Thank you for holding it, sister."
"Don't mention it," Ying'er said, twirling the flute in her hand like a toy.
Ganyu stood up as well, plucking the candied skewer from her chest.
Too late—the sugar syrup had left stains on her clothes.
"Master… I'm sorry," Xu Zheng muttered, guilt creeping into his voice.
"It's okay," Ganyu said softly, ruffling his hair. She eyed the sticky skewer and sighed. "Shame we can't eat this one now."
"Not a shame," Ying'er chimed in, grinning. "Some people might want to lick it off instead… right, little Xu Zheng?"
Some people died, but not completely...