You approach Ganyu with slow but steady steps. The sound of your shoes against the stone floor echoes rhythmically, as if accompanying your quickening heartbeat.
"Need help?" you ask her, your voice trembling slightly yet full of good intent.
Your eyes fix on the stack of papers in Ganyu's arms, tracing from her pale fingertips to the towering peak of documents. You also notice a faint tension in the muscles of her arms.
These documents don't look as light as they seem… you mutter inwardly.
Ganyu stops walking. She turns, shifting her gaze to you. Her eyes widen in surprise, her long lashes fluttering softly.
She didn't expect you to be here!
Even more, she didn't expect you to approach her!
Slowly, she shakes her head. Her blue hair sways with the motion, the bells at her neck tinkling faintly.
"No need," she answers gently. She tries to smile—a polite smile she gives everyone—the corners of her lips quivering slightly.
"But you look like you're struggling," you counter, refusing to give up so easily. You pause, looking deeply into her eyes, then nod reassuringly. "Let me help. Besides…"
You stop again, your eyes glancing around. You see the officials narrowing their eyes at you, their stares sharp and full of suspicion, as if ready to pounce at the slightest mistake. But you choose to ignore them.
Then you look back at Ganyu, focusing all your attention on her.
"I need to thank you properly," you say sincerely, a small smile forming on your face.
Ganyu falls silent for a moment, considering it. She looks at the stack of documents in her arms, then back at you.
There's no doubt—hesitation is clear in her eyes.
But soon after, she lets out a soft sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly. She nods gently.
"Alright. Please help me carry half," she finally says, handing over part of the burden to you.
Moments later, your hands hold some of those documents. The papers feel cold and smell of fresh ink.
At first you're surprised by how heavy they are—far heavier than you imagined.
A stack that looks thin actually carries the weight of history and responsibility!
But you grow accustomed to it; your trained muscles, used to hauling heavy crates of goods as Uncle Zhang's errand boy, kick in.
So it's no heavier than the wooden boxes you lift every day as Uncle Zhang's slave!
"Where should I take these?" you ask, looking at her face—which now appears a little relieved, the strain on her features easing as the load in her arms lightens.
"To my office," Ganyu answers immediately, her voice sounding lighter.
She leads the way, stepping gracefully ahead of you, and you follow like a loyal shadow.
Along the corridors of Yuehai Pavilion, you admire every decoration. You look left and right, absorbing the grandeur of Liyue's architecture. Dragon carvings on wooden pillars, landscape paintings on walls, paper lanterns just being lit—all radiating an aura of majesty.
You pass many officials, and every one greets Ganyu politely, bowing respectfully as she passes.
"Good evening, Miss Ganyu!"
"Well done, Miss Ganyu!"
Seeing it all with your own eyes, you feel she is an idol here—the center of this bureaucratic universe.
Ganyu returns their greetings politely too, nodding slightly and smiling warmly. But they seem to interpret it differently. A smile that to Ganyu is mere courtesy becomes a blessing to them.
Especially when that smile blooms on her weary face, casting a little light into the darkening evening.
But their demeanor quickly changes when their eyes catch your face walking behind her.
Especially the male officials.
You glance back briefly at the officials you've passed. You find them still staring at you, narrowing their eyes and growling softly. Their faces sour, filled with undisguised envy.
They glare at you with jealous looks!
You immediately turn your face away, your body suddenly shivering. The chill from their stares pierces your back.
I already guessed Ganyu must be popular at work, you mutter inwardly, gazing at Ganyu's back as she walks ahead. There must be people all over Liyue who have romantic feelings for her. Who wouldn't fall for her gentleness and dedication?
But they lack the courage to speak to her. They only dare admire from afar, like worshiping a goddess statue in a temple.
Perhaps some have tried, but Ganyu seems oblivious to their intentions… or perhaps she simply doesn't care for worldly matters like romance… So in the end they remain side characters, forever trapped in the friend or coworker zone.
You let out a long sigh, thin white vapor escaping your mouth.
Maybe I'm one of them too… you think pessimistically. Maybe I'm just a side character who happened to get a little extra screen time.
At that moment, you finally arrive in front of a large wooden door carved with cloud and qilin motifs. This must be Ganyu's office.
Ganyu, walking ahead, turns around. She looks at you and smiles shyly.
"Sorry if it's messy," she says softly, her cheeks flushing slightly.
You nod, understanding immediately.
She seems embarrassed to let someone else see her private space, which might not be as neat as her appearance!
Then, with one hand steadying the documents against her chest and the other reaching for the door handle, her movement looks a little awkward because of the load.
Seeing that makes you react quickly!
You step in front of her, beating her to it, and open the door with your free hand while firmly holding your stack at your waist with the other.
Ganyu startles, her eyes widening slightly. Then her smile widens, more genuine than before.
"Thank you," she says softly.
You nod gently, feeling a little proud of your small act.
Afterward, Ganyu enters her office first, her steps light as she steps into the familiar room.
You, standing outside, are about to follow. Your right foot is already raised, ready to cross the threshold. But in an instant you freeze, your foot hanging in the air.
Doubt holds you back. You realize your position.
"Is it okay if I come in?" you ask her, your voice slightly hesitant. You pause, looking at her back, and add, "I mean… I'm an outsider here. This is Qixing workspace, right?"
Ganyu turns in the middle of the room. She looks at you with a calming gaze.
"It's fine," she says softly but confidently. "Besides, some of the staff here seem to already know about you."
She smiles sweetly—a smile carrying a hint of secret and warmth. Then she adds in a tone that makes your heart flutter, "Who is my guest."
You fall silent for a moment, digesting her words.
My guest. Those words sound beautiful… and dangerous when heard directly from the source…
Then you sigh in relief. Convincing yourself it's okay. After all, the hostess—the owner of this room—has given official permission!
With full determination, you enter Ganyu's office for the first time.
Your first step into the room is greeted by a distinctive scent. In an instant you catch Ganyu's fragrance filling the space. The sweet, gentle aroma of Glaze Lilies mixed with the smell of old paper and high-quality ink. A scent that is calming yet intoxicating.
You close your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, savoring the moment. Letting the aroma sink into your memory.
When you open your eyes, you see Ganyu walking toward her large desk. The desk is buried under mountains of documents like small hills.
She places the documents she carried on top of the existing pile, adding to the paper mountain's height.
Then she sighs long, her shoulders dropping as if releasing a heavy burden for a moment.
You look around the room. It's spacious yet feels full. The walls are lined with towering bookshelves reaching the ceiling. Though filled with documents and almost no entertainment—no landscape paintings, no decorative flower vases—you feel very comfortable.
Every document is neatly arranged, categorized in a system only Ganyu likely understands. The books lining the shelves mostly look ancient, bound in worn leather—seemingly unavailable in ordinary bookstores because they're thousands of years old. They adorn the room in their own way, giving off a thick aura of wisdom and history.
You can't hold back your awe at seeing it with your own eyes.
But your admiration doesn't last long. You feel a gaze on you.
You turn and immediately realize Ganyu is staring at you. She stands near her desk, one hand resting on it, looking at you with slightly widened eyes and a slightly open mouth. She seems surprised to see you so captivated by her piles of paperwork.
You notice and immediately feel embarrassed. Your face heats up.
Caught red-handed admiring her workspace like a kid in a toy store!
She giggles softly—a light laugh like wind chimes. Then smiles warmly.
"Make yourself at home," she says.
You still feel shy, scratching the back of your head unnecessarily. You quickly move to her desk, avoiding her gaze, and place the documents you carried on the table, right beside her pile.
After that the atmosphere turns awkward. Silence falls between you again.
You stand stiffly in front of her desk, unsure what to do next.
Should I just leave?
You feel time dragging, every second crawling. You swallow, your throat dry.
You feel uncomfortable with this silence.
I have to say something. Anything!
You force your lips to move, forming a sentence in your head.
"Aren't you tired?" you finally ask, breaking the silence. You look at each towering document on the desk. Some scrolls appear yellowed, long awaiting review.
"Doing this much every day?" you continue, looking at her in disbelief.
Then you look at her face. Her lips curve into a faint smile. She shakes her head gently.
"I'm used to it," she answers simply.
"I see," you mutter.
You put the document back. You pick up another—this one about plans for a new dock—and skim it.
You put on a thoughtful expression, then look at her with determination.
"Can I help with it too?"
Ganyu, who was tidying her calligraphy brush and preparing to resume work, suddenly freezes. Her hand stops mid-air. She's shocked. Her eyes widen as she looks at you.
She stares silently for several seconds, trying to process your offer.
"Huh?" her voice comes out as a small squeak.
"You don't have to go that far," she gently refuses, shaking her head. "You're a guest. And you've already helped carry these documents here… that's more than enough."
"I still want to repay your kindness," you cut in quickly, not wanting refusal. You look into her eyes seriously. "After all, you've done so much for me. Saving me, defending me in front of the staff earlier… this is a small thing I can do."
She opens her mouth, wanting to object again, but then closes it.
You observe her reaction. She looks hesitant, confused, yet also… hopeful?
The atmosphere turns awkward again. And silent once more. You fear you're pushing too hard.
Feeling pressured by the hanging tension, you rub your cheek with your index finger, slowly. You look sideways at the bookshelves, avoiding her gaze.
"If you don't want…" you pause, your voice lowering. "I'll just go."
"It'd be rude to disturb you while you work when I'm just standing here doing nothing like a display statue," you smile awkwardly.
After turning around, deciding to leave and give her space, and about to step away toward the door…
At that moment Ganyu suddenly straightens. Her chair creaks softly.
"Wait!" she calls, her voice a little louder than usual.
You startle. Your step halts. You turn back, looking at her.
Her face looks flushed, a pink tint coloring her pale cheeks. She turns her face away briefly, embarrassed for raising her voice, then gathers her courage and looks at you again. Her gaze direct and honest.
"It's okay," she says softly. She pauses, taking a breath. "I mean… it's okay if you want to help too. Your assistance… would be greatly appreciated."
You're surprised to hear her agreement. Then you can't hold back the wide smile spreading across your face. Your heart cheers.
Soon after, you pull up an empty chair nearby and sit. You begin working beside her.
You take a stack of documents, sorting them by category, checking figures, copying data. Acting as her assistant.
At first you struggle. The handwriting in some documents is hard to read, and Liyue's bureaucratic terms are quite confusing. You ask her several things you don't understand.
"Ganyu, what does this stamp mean?"
"Ganyu, how do you calculate silk import tax?"
She answers every question patiently and clearly, her gentle voice guiding you.
But gradually, as time passes, you get used to it. Your hands move nimbly flipping pages, your eyes scan information quickly. Your mind works efficiently.
On another note, you feel a strange sensation. You feel your body moving on its own, as if muscle memory has awakened. As if you've done this before, long ago, in another life.
Is this what they call muscle memory?
Before losing my memories, did I work as a secretary in my previous world? you wonder inwardly. Or perhaps something similar? Accountant? Administrator?
You mutter softly while continuing to write, feeling a strange familiarity with these piles of paper.
Then you continue working, immersed in the rhythm of productivity.
Ganyu also seems surprised by your outstanding performance. Occasionally she stops working just to watch you, amazed at how quickly you clear the stack on your side.
Between tasks, you also take the initiative for short breaks. You don't want the atmosphere to become too stiff.
And in that short yet seemingly long time, you occasionally tell stories. Light stories, corny jokes, or your observations about harbor life.
When you talk, Ganyu stops her work. She sets down her brush, rests her chin on her hand, and listens enthusiastically. Her eyes sparkle, her smile blooms.
Then she laughs crisply at funny parts—a laugh that makes the room feel more alive. She responds to your stories with genuine interest, asking small details.
You can't help smiling at her. Seeing her rarely shown cheerful side.
Time passes unnoticed. The candles in the room begin to shorten.
Until finally, the last stack of documents is fully reviewed. The work is completely finished.
You set down your brush, stretching your stiff body. Your spine cracks with a creak.
You feel tired. Your eyes sting, your fingers ache.
And you've only worked a few hours!
Then you look at Ganyu. She still looks fresh, though faint fatigue lines her eyes. She smiles contentedly at the clean desk.
Does she do this every day? you look at Ganyu in awe, your respect for her soaring. Alone? For thousands of years?
This is insane!
…
At that moment, the hairs on Mochen's neck stand on end, a chill crawling from his toes to the top of his head, as if an icy hand strokes his spine. He takes a step back, his trembling legs nearly stumbling.
Mochen, staring at that purple light, shudders!
Then he prepares to turn away.
He instantly understands that the light is the source of terror and horror!
His mind flashes: run or die!
I have to escape!
But to where?
Around him is only ocean! Endless black sea separating them from safe land.
No place to run, let alone hide!
As he's about to retreat inside the ship, planning in his head to lock himself behind an iron door, the ship suddenly lurches.
BOOM!
The ship rocks violently, tilting right then hurled left. Wood creaks loudly, nails scream under the strain.
Mochen grabs the railing with both hands, grip so tight his knuckles whiten. He braces himself, legs in a wide stance to avoid being thrown into the raging sea.
In the corner of his eye he still catches that purple light. It flickers beneath the surface, mocking his fear. But he swallows, salty seawater and stomach acid mixing in his mouth, and forces himself not to look.
The ship rocks harder, as if a ferocious storm is shaking it, yet the wind above isn't that fierce!
The shaking clearly comes from below!
At that moment, amid the chaos, he suddenly hears Captain Tong shouting from the bridge.
"What's happening? Why is the ship listing?!"
"I don't know, Captain," the helmsman replies, voice panicked. "The weather's fine." He pauses, watching the crazed instruments, and shouts, "It seems the source is from under the sea!"
Captain Tong's eyes widen. His usually calm face turns ashen. "From under the sea?"
He immediately runs to the railing, ignoring safety protocol, and looks down.
At that moment, he suddenly freezes. His eyes catch the purple light. And in an instant, something happens to him.
His pupils dilate, veins bulge in his neck. Rage inside him explodes.
Foreign emotions take control!
Soon after, he glares at the workers clinging to the masts.
"You!" he roars in a hoarse voice not his own. "You're all traitors!"
He draws a dagger from his belt and charges the nearest worker.
The workers don't understand what's happened to their captain.
They don't care!
To them, survival comes first!
They dodge immediately, leaping aside!
"Captain! What's wrong?" one shouts.
"Die, all of you!" Captain Tong swings his blade wildly.
Besides the captain, several curious workers who looked down and saw the purple light suffer the same fate. Their eyes turn bloodshot. They become savage and aggressive, as if rationality is overwhelmed by primal emotions injected by the light!
They punch, bite, and claw one another. Some are restrained by sane crewmates with ropes, but then they thrash so violently the ropes snap, and they attack again.
The chaos worsens!
Mochen watches with trembling eyes.
He still remembers that purple light. And his mind suddenly drifts to the past, recalling the Adeptus who froze him.
Is "He" doing this?
Is this karma? Punishment for trying to flee Liyue?
He hugs himself, trying to shield from the madness around him.
He quickly runs, crawls, trying to escape into the cargo hold!
But before he reaches the door, the ship lurches again!
CRASH!
The ship lifts slightly into the air before slamming back down. Mochen loses balance. He falls hard, his chin smashing the wooden deck. Pain explodes in his head.
He closes his eyes, stifling a groan.
When he opens them, his eyes widen and shake. Reflected in his tear-wet eyes, he sees something beyond the wildest nightmare.
The entire ship is surrounded by something moving unnaturally. Something wet, slimy, and gigantic.
Giant tentacles!
The tentacles rise from the sea, wrapping the hull, climbing the masts like colossal serpents. Dark purple in color with pulsing spots of light.
At the same moment, the people who had just seen the purple light—the mad captain and workers—as well as those still sane, suddenly fall silent.
In an instant, the fighting stops!
They look up, mouths agape at the giant tentacles.
They freeze and gawk.
The rage controlling their minds vanishes instantly, replaced by something far stronger.
At that moment, only one thing fills every crew member's mind who witnesses this horror firsthand.
Pure terror!
Inside the ship, in the stuffy cargo hold, a muscular man with a dragon tattoo drinks beer.
It's the Boss.
He enjoys his beer, utterly calm, as if the world outside doesn't exist. He watches the other crew drinking too, some passed out drunk and snoring on the floor.
He drinks again, downing the bitter liquid to chase away the icy phantom from his thoughts.
Then slams his glass on the table with a loud clunk.
He clenches his fists, annoyed.
Perhaps from too much drink, but he remembers the earlier incident. Being suddenly frozen. He recalls the bone-piercing cold, the helplessness as his body became a statue.
At that moment he had been about to punch that insolent man.
That man with the self-righteous face!
But in an instant, time and the world seemed to stop.
He still can't accept being frozen by an insolent man like him, who dared approach Miss Ganyu!
He feels utterly humiliated!
At that moment, his ears suddenly catch commotion outside. Shouts, thuds, the sound of splintering wood.
He narrows his eyes and stands, his chair shoved back.
Who dares disturb my drinking time?
They need a lesson!
His hand grips an empty thick glass beer bottle. He strides toward the door with heavy, angry steps.
Then the door bursts open from outside—or perhaps broken by the ship's lurch.
At that moment, he looks up. He steps out onto the deck.
And instantly freezes, staring at the scene before him.
His gaze locks on a giant tentacle wrapped around the main mast, crushing it like a dry twig.
At that moment, he suddenly catches a familiar scream amid the chaos.
"Boss!"
It's Mochen!
Mochen has fallen near the railing, crawling backward with a face full of terror.
"Mochen… what's happening…" the Boss mutters, his voice swallowed by the waves.
As he asks, one giant tentacle suddenly moves fast like a whip.
It lashes toward Mochen!
The wet, slimy tip wraps around Mochen's right leg.
Mochen screams. His body jerks. And in an instant, he's lifted into the air.
He dangles and swings, as if being toyed with by a cruel child. Upside down, blood rushes to his head.
"Help me, Boss!" Mochen grimaces, tears and snot streaking his face. He desperately pleads for help from his boss.
The Boss, frozen for a moment, snaps back to calm. He looks at the bottle in his hand. Without delay, he hurls it with all his strength at the tentacle holding Mochen.
The bottle arcs through the air, spinning fast.
CRASH!
It hits dead on. Shattering into pieces against the tentacle's slick skin. Glass shards embed in the monster's soft flesh.
At that moment, the giant tentacle flinches in surprise, loosening its grip.
Thud.
Mochen drops from two meters up, landing back-first on a coil of rope. He groans in pain, but he's alive.
Mochen, having fallen, scrambles up, ignoring the pain in his back. He limps over and hides behind his boss's broad back.
The tentacle sways in the air for a moment, enraged. Purple fluid drips from its wound, hissing as it touches the wooden deck.
Soon after, the tentacle calms. Its tip now slowly turns, like a snake's head seeking prey. And it aims straight at the Boss.
Then it strikes!
It lunges fast, slicing the air with a whoosh.
Fortunately the Boss dodges. He leaps aside with surprising agility for his size. The tentacle smashes the deck where he stood a second ago, splintering planks into dust.
"Fall back!" he tells Mochen without turning. His voice firm.
Mochen nods quickly. And steps back several paces.
But he doesn't flee inside.
How could he abandon his boss up here alone? While he cowers in a corner like a coward?
In the end he'd die anyway! If the boss dies, who will protect him?
At the very least he wants to witness his boss's fight!
After much dodging and striking the tentacle with all his might—pounding it with wooden beams, hurling barrels—though futile because the monster's skin is too thick.
The Boss begins to tire. His breathing heavy, chest heaving fast.
He turns briefly, looking at Mochen with sweat covering his face mixed with sea spray.
"Let's retreat first!" he shouts. "This monster can't be fought bare-handed!"
"Where do we run, Boss!" Mochen replies shakily, bracing against a tilting mast to stay upright. "We're in the middle of the ocean!"
"Inside, idiot!" he yells in frustration.
At that moment, the giant tentacle—seemingly annoyed by these tiny pests—suddenly moves nimbly. Faster than before.
The Boss, distracted shouting at Mochen, widens his eyes at this.
The tentacle wraps his waist and legs at once.
He reacts too late!
And in an instant, he's lifted into the air. His legs kick empty space.
"Damn it!" the Boss struggles to free himself. He pounds the tentacle with his massive fists. He claws the slimy skin.
But the grip is too strong! Like iron coils.
Though he fights with all his strength, the tentacle still holds his legs, slowly squeezing.
At that moment, the tentacle slowly retreats, pulling him back toward the dark sea at the ship's side.
"NO. WAIT! LET ME GO!" the Boss roars. His voice full of rare panic. Desperate to break free.
But it's useless!
The tentacle drags the Boss over the railing.
SPLASH!
The sound of a massive body hitting water rings clear.
Mochen runs to the railing. He looks down.
At that moment, the Boss in the water holds his breath. He fights the current and the tentacle's grip. He looks up, seeing the surface growing farther.
He sees Mochen leaning over the railing. He hears Mochen's muffled shout through the water. "Boss!"
Damn… he thinks.
He feels his lungs burning. He feels the deep sea's cold embrace.
At that moment, his eyes gazing at Mochen are, for the last time, struck with awe. Behind Mochen, the moon shines so bright and beautiful.
He stares long, until he finally closes his eyes. Surrendering to a fate he cannot punch away.
And he no longer holds his breath.
The last air bubbles escape his mouth, rising to the surface like a departing soul, leaving his body to sink into eternal darkness.
…
A/N: With this, all the quest objectives are complete. I think letting someone see her hardworking side and helping with her work counts as building basic trust. After all, it's about responsibility—how can you entrust responsibility to someone if there's no trust? So in the next chapter, the protagonist will definitely talk about the objectives he just finished. As compensation for yesterday's delay, I wrote this chapter quite long—please enjoy :3 Oh, and for the next 2 chapters, I'll try to write them tomorrow because lately I've been flooded with ideas!
Anyway, if you guys are too tired of waiting for the next chapter… please check my Patreon, where I update much faster than on this platform! (Now there are already 12 chapters I've updated!)
You can see the next chapter sooner on my patreon whose link is below:
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