Within her line of sight was a hand wearing a black glove.
But as the distance closed, one could see it was not a glove—the hand itself seemed entirely black, and upon closer inspection, strange patterns faintly emerged on the skin.
Before long, the fingers toying with the letter stopped moving.
Arlecchino, the Fatui Harbinger "The Knave," sat upright in the chair, candlelight dancing in her scarlet eyes, reflecting her composed face.
She looked at the sealed envelope, her dark fingertips gently tapping the table.
A Melusine stranded in Liyue... its importance to Neuvillette was self-evident.
Intercepting it meant gaining an information advantage, which could be used as a bargaining chip if necessary.
She leaned back slightly, and the chair creaked softly.
Intercepting the letter was not intentional and came as a surprise to her.
But when the intelligence network of the Hearth of the House accidentally intercepted this letter clearly addressed to the Opera Epiclese, she realized its potential value.
Fontaine's iudex was searching for his lost people, and the matter seemed to have met some obstacles.
Her gaze lowered to the envelope; the wax seal was clearly visible, yet it had failed to fulfill its purpose this time.
"An unexpected bargaining chip..." she murmured silently, her black fingertips finally resting on the tabletop.
Although the intelligence was intercepted by chance, handling it required absolute prudence. Neuvillette was not an easily predictable opponent, and any direct action might alert the enemy.
A faint curve lifted the corner of her lips.
Perhaps there was no need to rush to return this letter to its rightful owner.
Allowing it to "temporarily" get lost in the complex flow of intelligence was, in itself, a silent test.
When the power of the Opera Epiclese grew increasingly anxious in its secret search, this "accidentally" obtained information could be converted into just the right amount of influence at the most critical moment.
However... the innocent faces of the Melusines and Neuvillette's figure—majestic and just in public—flashed through Arlecchino's mind.
To use this concern and anxiety as a tool for leverage... She remained silent for a moment, the calculation in her eyes slowly settling, ultimately transforming into an almost imperceptible sigh.
Some boundaries need not be stated.
Exploiting a guardian's worry and sense of responsibility for profit was not what she desired, nor was it the proper demeanor of "Father." At least, in this incident, she chose not to do so.
"For some secrets, simply knowing they exist is enough," she murmured to herself, as if persuading herself or making a final ruling.
She placed the letter steadily on the table and gently pushed it forward with her fingertips.
"Restore it and send it back," she instructed the subordinate standing in the shadows, her voice regaining its usual calmness and authority. "Ensure that it 'normally' arrives at the Opera Epiclese slightly later, as if it had only encountered a minor, harmless delay on the road."
"Yes, my Lady," the subordinate replied respectfully, stepping forward to carefully pick up the letter before silently exiting the room.
Arlecchino's gaze returned to the flickering candlelight.
As for the Melusine stranded in a foreign land and the esteemed Iudex of Fontaine... let them handle their "family matters" at their own pace... A few mornings later, that "late" reply from Liyue was finally placed on Neuvillette's desk.
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It was a fine Liyue afternoon; the sun was just right, and the breeze was gentle.
Zhongli strolled past Chihu Rock, debating whether he should go to the Wanmin Restaurant to listen to storytelling today, or go listen to Mr. Yun's opera. While contemplating, he arrived near Yujing Terrace, where he happened upon Granny Ping setting out her tea set beneath a tree.
"Old friend, you seem to be in good spirits today," Zhongli greeted her, walking up.
"Oh, it's you," Granny Ping said, raising her head with a chuckle, her hands still busy. "You've come at the perfect time. I just brewed a fresh pot of tea. Would you like a taste?"
"It would be impolite to refuse," Zhongli replied calmly, taking a seat.
The tea fragrance wafted, and after a few casual words, Granny Ping seemed to remember something. She picked up an elegantly bound book from the small table beside her: "Oh, right, a young girl left a rather interesting book here a few days ago. This 'the travels of shi po chen · part two' is written with quite a bit of charm. Would you like to take a look?"
Zhongli's gaze swept over the familiar cover. After a moment of silence, his voice was steady: "I have indeed read this book."
A knowing smile flashed in Granny Ping's eyes, and without asking further, she pulled out another volume from under the tea table: "It seems I was being redundant. What about this 'history of jars'? Coincidentally, ever since this book started circulating, the sales of earthenware jars in the market have increased significantly."
Zhongli took the booklet, his fingertips lightly tracing the title. He said calmly, "I have also flipped through this one, and I've heard a little about the recent popularity of pottery."
"Ah, the books you young people enjoy reading all seem to end up with this old woman," Granny Ping said, shaking her head with a laugh. She then unhurriedly produced a third book. The cover was flamboyant, bearing the large title, "dragonfall: i am the dragon king," authored by the Fictional Historian.
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