Compared to the small village, Liyue was a vast city. Every day, numerous adventure commissions, odd jobs, and recruitment notices were posted on the bulletin board. Whoever took the paper accepted the job.
So every morning, a crowd gathered here.
On normal days, the girl would arrive before everyone else to claim the best spot. But today, she was unlucky. The hilichurls on the road had delayed her.
By the time she reached the bulletin board, it was already surrounded by adults. To get a job, she had to push her way in.
But she was only a young girl, not yet seven or eight. She was small, her strength insignificant.
How could she push past the adults?
Every time she squeezed in a little, they shoved her back out. She fell hard to the ground each time.
But she was stubborn. She would not give up easily.
So she tried again and again. Pushed in. Shoved out. Fallen. Over and over.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
After countless falls, her already worn clothes were covered in dust and filth. Her delicate little hands were scraped raw, nearly bleeding.
A little girl like her stood no chance against the adults.
But soon, the adults found jobs they wanted and left, clearing a space for her.
The unfortunate part was that they had taken almost all the jobs. Only one notice remained.
The girl stood on her toes, using all her small strength to jump, reaching for the paper.
But she was too small. Too short. No matter how hard she tried, she could not reach it.
Just then, a group of older children in fine clothes noticed her predicament. They laughed.
"Look at that little beggar. Barely big enough to stand, and she thinks she can take a job."
"Can she even do it?"
"Haha, she can't even reach it. That's hilarious."
"But look, she's jumping higher each time. She might actually get it."
"Let's help her out."
Smirking, the older children approached the board. Without even needing to jump, they could easily reach the paper.
One of them reached up and snatched it down.
The girl saw her job being taken. Furious, she shouted, "That's my job! Give it back!"
The older children sneered. "Ooh, the little beggar is angry."
"A little beggar like you doesn't deserve a job."
"Fine. Here."
One of them stuck the paper back on the board—at the very top, where the girl could never reach it no matter how hard she tried.
The girl was livid. She glared at the bullies, her small fists clenched.
In the past, she would never have let them get away with this. She would have shown them her fists and made them regret it.
But now, she could not fight. She could not cause trouble for her mother.
She needed to earn Mora. To buy food for her mother. To buy medicine to make her well.
So she gritted her teeth and ignored them. She jumped with all her might, again and again, even though she knew she could not reach it.
She had to get that job today. She had to earn those Mora.
The bullies found this hilarious. They stood aside, mocking her worn clothes, saying she must have no parents, that she was just a little beggar.
The girl's eyes reddened, but she refused to cry.
She knew that if she shed a single tear, they would only laugh harder.
After countless failed jumps, an idea struck her.
She wrapped her raw, scraped hands around the posts of the bulletin board and used all her strength to climb.
Little by little, she pulled herself up. Finally, she reached the top and tore down the paper.
But the bullies had seen her. Furious, they surrounded her.
"Who said you could climb that? The bulletin board is public property. What if you break it?"
"And who said you could take that job? Give it here."
They tried to snatch the paper from her.
But the girl had fought too hard for it. She would not give it up so easily.
She clutched the paper with both hands, pressing it against her chest like a treasure, curling her body around it, shielding it from their grasping hands.
When they could not take it, they grew angrier. They raised their fists and slapped her.
"Little beggar, you think you deserve a job? Hand it over, or we'll beat you!"
"Give it to me! If you don't, I'll call the Millelith and have them arrest you!"
"Let go!"
"Ah, she bit me! Beat her!"
When the girl bit one of them, the bullies erupted in fury. Their fists flew. Their palms struck.
The blows rained down on her small body. It hurt.
But the girl clenched her teeth, her eyes red, and refused to make a sound.
She had to protect the paper. She had to finish the job and earn the Mora. To buy food for her sick mother. To buy medicine so she could get better.
But the bullies hit hard. They hurt.
Even the strongest little girl was still just a child. In that moment, she could not help but dream.
If only a hero would appear from the sky and chase these bullies away.
Just as she was dreaming, an angry voice rang out from a distance.
"Hey—"
"Let that girl go!"
A small figure leaped from somewhere, flying through the air. With a precise kick, it struck one of the bullies square in the face.