There's a bouquet waiting for Ganyu when she returns to her desk at Yuehai Pavilion.

"A gift for you," Baishi explains as she hands off the rest of the unfinished paperwork to Ganyu.

"A… gift?" Ganyu clutches the paperwork to her chest, breath stilling as she regards the bouquet. It's a beautiful assortment—a bundle of qingxin and sprigs of baby violetgrass, framing a single glaze lily that sits proudly as the centerpiece. The vase itself is grand on its own: a sleek glass cylinder, with finely cut Noctilucous Jade gems inlaid between gold engravings of cloud-shaped swirls. It feels almost out of place in her space—too grand and pristine in the midst of desk drawers left half-open and the dried inkwells lying tipped over.

"Yes, it was left here earlier this morning before we even got to your office." Baishi hastens to shove the drawers back in and sets the inkwell back upright. "Ahem, sorry about the state of your office. It's been a rough week without you."

"It's no trouble." Ganyu traces a finger over the glaze lily petals, and it leans into her touch. Still sensitive to people who care for it—a sign of a healthy glaze lily. "They're lovely," she says. The scent of rainy dew still clings onto them, fresh and earthy. "Who is it from?"

Baishi shrugs. "There was no card to go along with it. Quite suspicious given the circumstances, but it did pass Millelith inspection. Security has confirmed there's nothing dangerous laced in the flowers."

"I see… An unknown sender," Ganyu muses.

Her eyebrows furrow. She can't recall the last time she's ever received such a fanciful gift, let alone left anonymously. Such gestures are unheard of in politics. As the emissary to the Qixing, she's no stranger to businessmen scrambling to make their good deeds known in order to network and gain favor with the government policymakers. Anonymity only hinders that objective. And a friend would have no reason to hide their identity.

In short, there's no logic in someone sending her a gift without leaving any word of who they are…

Ganyu blinks.

Unless… unless—

"I'd say you might have a secret admirer, Miss Ganyu," Baishi teases. "Perhaps someone was yearning for you in your absence?"

Ganyu begrudges how easily her face heats up. Yearning. Such a strong word. "Please," she protests, "flowers are hardly exclusively romantic in nature." The argument is weak, she knows. It doesn't help that she falls short of coming up with alternative explanations.

"If you say so," Baishi says, bringing a hand up to cover her own lips, no doubt to hide her amusement. It doesn't matter. Ganyu can still hear the smirk in her voice.

She can't deny that a burning curiosity tugs at the forefront of her consciousness. But the weight of the week's workload ahead is heavier. True to Baixiao's complaints, Ganyu's desk sports a mountain of administrative documents, precariously stacked and on the brink of toppling over. There's much work to be done—civil complaints to address and law amendments to be processed. No time to ponder any further.

With jittery hands, Ganyu sets the paperwork back down on her desk. "I—I really must get to work now," she splutters.

Baishi giggles. "Thank you again, Miss Ganyu. You have no idea how much we missed having you here. Baiwen, Baixiao, and I—we'll treat you to a meal later this weekend, if that's alright with you?"

Now that's a lifeline she can hold onto—the fulfillment of her juniors expressing their gratitude toward her. It's enough to eclipse her earlier embarrassment. "Please, do not feel obligated," Ganyu says, smiling. "I'm happy to be back."

When Baishi bows and makes her leave, Ganyu's eyes wander back to the bouquet.

"A secret admirer, huh…" she murmurs.

The next few days working at Yuehai Pavilion are… odd.

Despite the rough start on her first day back, the following days have been eerily smooth-sailing. Where Ganyu expects the usual rounds of staff running back and forth from her office, there's almost no noise coming at her door throughout the week—no insistent knocks, no coworkers clamoring for help, no urgent summons to Qixing meetings. For once, it's peaceful.

On one hand, it's a nice reprieve: despite the oppressive afternoon heat beating down her neck, the quiet enables her to finish the backlog of work with ease. The pile of documents that crowd her desk dwindles bit by bit until there's nothing left standing on her desk but the bouquet.

On the other, it's not even the end of the week yet, and she's already accomplished everything that needs to be done. When she tucks away the last of the forms that need to be handed off to the Tianshu, her desk feels almost too spotless. Unnervingly barren. In normal circumstances, it should be a cause for celebration. As is, though, something about having nothing more to do in the middle of the day feels… wrong. Like she's missing something crucial.

Surely the Tianshu will have something more for her to do?

The man in question is buried in his fair share of paperwork when Ganyu finds him. It's a rarity to see the Tianshu at Yuehai Pavilion, but with Liyue undergoing a significant transitional period, it's been a necessity for him to frequent the premises.

"Ah, Ganyu-jiejie, just the person I've been wanting to see!" the Tianshu greets her, jovial as ever.

Ganyu disregards the term of endearment. "The dairy trade regulations have all been approved," she says, setting the forms on his desk.

"Wonderful, thank you."

"Of course."

As per her usual routine when meeting with any Qixing member, Ganyu moves to make his tea—a staple in rejuvenating anyone during a weary midday. Many consider brewing tea for superiors a menial chore, but Ganyu finds pride in it. There's a certain satisfaction in learning someone's preferences and being precise in perfecting a specific taste. While she hadn't intended for it to become her sole jurisdiction, the snooty part of her secretly preens at the fact that there's no one better suited than her for the job. Of course, no one could replace several millennia of expertise—

Her hands halt mid-way to the teapot when she sees there's already steam wafting from the spout.

"The tea… has been brewed already?" Ganyu asks. She brings her hands back to her chest.

The Tianshu hums, raising a teacup to his lips. "Why yes, the new hire prepared it! A bit bitter—I believe she may have steeped the petals for a minute too long, but I'm not too picky. She has plenty of time to learn."

The scent of violetgrass tea lingers, strong and fragrant. Why hadn't she noticed before?

"Oh…"

He guffaws. "Aren't you glad you don't have to do any more grunt work like this for us?" The Tianshu slaps her heartily on the back. "Especially now that it's been a busy week."

"Busy?" It takes all of Ganyu's willpower to temper her surprise. "Ah, yes—right." She nods vigorously. "Very busy."

"Well," he says, ushering her out of his office, "I won't keep you now. You must have much to do. My thanks again!"

"But—"

The door shuts behind her. A lock clicks into place—a sure sign of 'do not disturb'.

Ganyu sighs. So much for that.

"Busy?" she mutters, frowning as she stalks off. Something twists in Ganyu's gut. Why hadn't anyone asked for her help?

At the very least, the confirmation of a busy week does mean that there's more she can do. More ways to be productive… to be useful.

It's with that impetus that Ganyu veers off course to scope out the rest of Yuehai Pavilion. The hallmark of an exceptional employee is the ability to take initiative, after all. Someone must need her assistance.

The flurry of activity that had somehow escaped her purview greets her in all its ugly glory the moment she steps into the center of the building: workers carting chunks of white iron to the Kaiyang's lab for analysis, accountants calculating financials in the rapid click-click of their abacuses, managers barking orders at other staff members—

—a none-the-wiser assistant hauling a ceiling-high stack of porcelain plates, barreling straight toward her.

"Oh!" Ganyu gasps, catching the assistant by her shoulders, halting her just before they collide. There's a yelp from behind the stack of plates as they begin to tip over, but Ganyu swiftly catches the load with both arms and sets it delicately on the counter next to them.

"Are you alright? Please be careful."

"Oof, thank you so much," the assistant heaves out, doubled over. "I'm so sorry I didn't see you! I would've been a goner if I had let these all fall."

"I could help you carry some of the load," Ganyu offers, already reaching her hand out.

"Goodness, I'd love th—" The grateful smile on the assistant's face drops as soon as she lifts her head to make eye contact with her. The speed at which she drags the stack of plates away from Ganyu is impressive, albeit a tad concerning, as porcelain screeches against granite. "Secretary Ganyu? Oh crud, I'm sorry, but I cannot let you take these."

Ganyu's stomach drops. "May… may I ask why?"

"It's—well, um, I'm not sure if I should say…" the assistant mumbles, eyes straying to the side.

"Please," Ganyu urges. "I would appreciate it if you could be forthcoming."

The assistant scratches the back of her neck, shrinking under Ganyu's piercing scrutiny. "One of the Qixing requested we not ask you for any assistance."

Her blood runs cold. "Why?"

"Err… we were told we needed to be more self-sufficient."

'Self-sufficient.' Ganyu's heart nearly stops. She's heard that turn of phrase before, an uncomfortable amount of times.

"Which Qixing?" Ganyu presses, though she already has an inkling.

The assistant shrinks further into herself. "Uh. It was—"

"Me," comes a voice at their side.

Ganyu whips her head to the source. That voice. Always so haughty and sure of herself. Constantly breathing down every assistant's neck. The bane of Ganyu's entire career ever since she'd taken office.

And predictably, the source of all her problems now.

"Lady Keqing," she greets through a tight-lipped smile. Of course it would be her. Of course, of course.

It's the first time since Ganyu's been back that she's seen Keqing. In the glare of the sunlight filtering through the window, it's hard to tell what her expression looks like, but Ganyu imagines it's the same stern, pretentious, know-it-all one that she always wears.

"Ganyu, what are you doing here?" Keqing asks.

Ganyu's jaw nearly drops. Barely even one sentence in and Keqing has already managed to scorn her.

"I… work here," Ganyu says simply. Her tight-lipped smile stretches even thinner still.

Keqing falters. "No, I mean—"

"I must go now," Ganyu cuts her off. Where her blood had run cold earlier, a fuming heat pulses through her veins now, fierce and raw. She can't trust herself not to explode in front of everyone. "Good day."

She doesn't wait for a reply before marching right past Keqing and the assistant. Even when Keqing calls out her name again, Ganyu doesn't turn back.

When Ganyu storms down the hallway, there's nothing but the sound of her heels clicking harshly along the hardwood floor. Her hands curl into fists. The sheer audacity of Lady Keqing to question her place at Yuehai Pavilion! As if she hadn't dedicated a good few millennia of her life serving Liyue! When Lady Keqing herself hasn't even lived for—

A tiny 'eep' snaps Ganyu back to attention. A fellow staff member veers acutely away from her path, pressing her entire body against the wall to avoid her. Ganyu doesn't recognize her, but the pin on her lapel identifies her as a Yuehai Pavilion intern. The trepidation in her eyes hits Ganyu like a sobering splash of cold water, and the anger drains from her body until she feels nothing but stark humiliation.

A plate of teacups rattles in the intern's hands. The sound of it finally spurs Ganyu into speaking.

"I—please, excuse me," she stammers, taking off.

Her office has never felt more like a sanctuary as it does now. The sweet scent of the flowers soothes Ganyu immediately—a balm to the storm of emotions clouding her head. She has half a mind to stress eat some of the qingxin petals, but she suppresses the urge. It would be a waste of a perfectly good display.

As Ganyu sinks back into her chair, it dawns on her: she's back at square one when she'd first left for Jueyun Karst, feeling completely out-of-place and like she doesn't belong. Unable to move forward with the new future. Unable to adapt.

The heavy feeling in her chest only sinks further, lodging itself uncomfortably between her ribcage. There's no use in denying it: Lady Keqing has always been right. The age of the adepti has passed. Deep in her heart, even before Rex Lapis had passed, Ganyu had known that.

But does that, by extension, mean that her place as the Liyue Qixing secretary will go along with it? Had that been Lady Keqing's plan all along? To relieve her of her duties? To… replace her?

Ganyu slumps forward onto her desk, propping her chin on crossed arms. The bouquet sitting at the edge of her desk enters her peripheral, and she tilts her head toward it, her cheeks smushing against her forearm. The flowers are a small comfort in the light of recent events. A reminder that at least someone wants her around.

She flushes.

Someone…

As Ganyu grazes her hands against the qingxin petals, her curiosity rekindles anew. The assortment of flowers is not the kind that could simply be picked up from any common florist. Qingxin and violetgrass reside on mountain peaks and steep slopes—difficult to obtain unless agile and able-bodied, and therefore costly to purchase. Glaze lilies these days require special licensing to farm, which only highly reputable and seasoned horticulturalists have the privilege to obtain—again, expensive. The freshness of the whole batch suggests that the flowers passed only two hands, at most.

The craftsmanship of the vase is brilliant as well—of a caliber expected from master artisan crafters. It's something that Ganyu would have anticipated seeing at an ostentatious auction house, not on the desk of a secretary. Her desk. Had it been a humble assortment of flowers, Ganyu would have assumed it was an extra thank-you gift from Huixin, but factoring the difficulty of procurement puts the price factor well outside the budget of a typical secretary salary.

It's all very… extravagant. Definitely not something she would've chosen on her own. The only thing Ganyu is sure of is whoever had gifted it to her has noble intentions.

Noble…

Ganyu furrows her brows, feeling a fog disperse in her head.

Noble. Aristocrat. Agile and able-bodied. Familiar enough with Ganyu that they know qingxin is her favorite flower. The vase being a unique work of craftsmanship—the mark of someone who has an eye for collecting items, and more importantly, shopping.

Ganyu jolts up. No—it can't be.

The evidence speaks for itself. It doesn't take long for Ganyu to find a copy of the auction house records. In plain sight, right smack in the middle of the page, the ledger reads: MASTER CUI'S GOLDEN CLOUD VASE, SOLD TO YUHENG, FIVE MILLION MORA.

Ganyu slaps that very file right in front of Keqing's face just as she's situated on the bench of her office balcony overlooking Yujing Terrace, nose-deep in a map of the nation.

"Lady Keqing," she says, crossing her arms. She prays her cool façade doesn't betray the shock that's still shaking her to the core.

"Ahh!" Keqing startles, scrambling out of her seat. Being the cause of the wide-eyed surprise on someone normally so pompous admittedly tickles a small, sadistic side of Ganyu. "Ganyu! What in Teyvat is your—" Her eyes drift down to the ledger. "Oh," she peeps.

Ganyu graciously gives Keqing a good five seconds to process her predicament before pressing her further. "Why?" she demands.

"I… I didn't think you'd go so far to find out," Keqing confesses, voice soft.

It's a poor attempt at deflecting, but Ganyu entertains it anyway. "You didn't exactly make it hard to find out. There's only one person who could fit the criteria. You're wealthy, which means you can buy fresh glaze lilies at your whim. And I've seen you with your Vision before—you can easily pick violetgrass and qingxin flowers during expeditions. The auction house records only confirmed my suspicions."

"You found them to your liking, then?" Keqing has the gall to have a tiny smirk tugging at her lips.

"That's—" Ganyu flusters. Such a typical politician move to turn a situation on its head. She narrows her eyes. "I would like an answer to my question, please."

Keqing straightens her back under Ganyu's glare. "Right, well, I knew you wouldn't have appreciated it, coming from me," she relents. She smiles wryly. "We haven't exactly gotten along."

"That… is true," Ganyu agrees. Had Keqing left a note, Ganyu isn't entirely sure if she wouldn't have just regifted it elsewhere. Still, the issue of anonymity only answers half the question.

"I'm just… confused," she continues. "I don't understand the actions you've taken. You, sending me flowers anonymously? While requesting the staff not to ask for my assistance, when that's my job? None of this adds up."

Keqing blinks. "That's how you interpreted it?"

That's not the answer that Ganyu expects. "How… how else should I have seen it?"

Keqing doesn't answer right away. Instead, she tugs at her gloves, as though gearing for one of her long land surveys, then leans against the railing, looking out at the harbor. "When Rex Lapis… passed, I thought a lot about what it means to be a good leader," she says. "I've been working on being more patient with the staff. It turns out it is more efficient in the long run to just train people better, instead of firing them at every turn. With a more capable workforce at Yuehai Pavilion, I was hoping that you would feel more welcome when you came back, and not overwhelmed."

Ganyu inhales, feeling a weight finally lift from her chest. "So when you asked me why I was here…"

Keqing grins at her catching on. "I was wondering why you didn't decide to take time off work, for once. When you were gone, I realized we all may be relying on you too much. I heard from Lumine you hadn't even been to the harbor in a while. You deserve time for yourself, Ganyu."

"I… see."

"I understand how my actions could be misinterpreted now," she says sheepishly, "but I promise you, alienating you was never my intention."

With the clouds overhead to dampen the severity of the afternoon sun, Ganyu can finally see Keqing as she is. The buns on the top of her hair are looser than usual—not enough to fray at the edges, but certainly not as sharp as Ganyu remembers seeing them. There's also none of the usual arrogance in her expression that Ganyu always associates with her, just a soft, cautious smile.

"Look, I'm not good at this," Keqing admits. "I know I'm difficult to cooperate with. I'm working on changing that. But I just hope that my… past attitude does not keep you from feeling welcome at Yuehai Pavilion."

"So you weren't trying to replace me after all." Ganyu isn't sure if she wants to laugh or cry. What a turn of events. Not even an hour ago she was sure she'd never hated someone more.

"Replace you?" Keqing scoffs. "As if I could simply replace thousands of years' worth of expertise with some bumbling new hires."

Were Ganyu less adept at schooling her emotions, she would have burst into laughter on the spot. As it is, she manages to cover her mouth and restrain her mirth behind a small giggle. What an uncanny coincidence, for Keqing to voice out her thoughts from earlier. "That's… not very nice," she chastises half-heartedly. She gives Keqing a genuine smile. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

The blush that makes its way to Keqing's face is an unusual sight. She swiftly turns back to look at the harbor. Pointedly avoiding eye contact. "Sure," she says.

It's an odd feeling, smiling at Keqing without forcing it. The comfort of it is probably what lowers Ganyu's guard enough for her to let slip, "The flowers make a lot more sense now."

Keqing raises an eyebrow. "More sense?"

Ganyu hesitates. "Ah, well—Baishi suggested that they could have been from a secret admirer," she explains. "But it makes more sense that it actually comes from… my remorseful, well-intentioned but misguided superior."

"Oh."

"Yes, so it goes," Ganyu says, clasping her hands together.

An awkward silence falls between them. A gentle breeze brushes past them, and Keqing raises her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Ganyu follows the motion of her fingers, where it comes to rest on her cheek. When the wind picks up speed, leaves rustling noisily, Keqing mouths something so soft that Ganyu would have missed it if her eyes hadn't strayed down to her lips:

"Well, actually… she's not wrong."

It may be due to her old age, but it takes a moment for Keqing's words to catch up to her brain. Ganyu's mouth parts in shock. "P-pardon?"

Pushing herself off the balcony railing, Keqing clears her throat. "Ah, you know what—I do have something in mind for you to do," she says, shoving her map into Ganyu's hands. "Please help look over my draft of the Bishui trade route."

Keqing ducks past Ganyu before she can even respond. As quick as lightning, Keqing escapes the premises and Ganyu is left with nothing but the map and afterimage of Keqing and her bashful expression.

Heat fills Ganyu's cheeks. Her fingers shake when she curls the map back into a scroll, but she wills herself to calm down, to make sense of everything later.

Despite everything, Ganyu smiles when she sits back at her desk. There's still work to do, after all.

Author's Notes:

A dovetail joint is a woodworking joinery technique that uses interlocking pins and tails to join pieces together without the use of mechanical fasteners (e.g. pins and screws). When woodworkers want to hide the dovetail design, they employ the use of half-blind dovetails, which enable them to keep the pins and tails away from view on the front end. As for relevance to this fic: Keqing attempts to bridge the gap between her and Ganyu while keeping her intentions a secret—which means only one of them is half-blind as to what's really going on.

Thank you so much for reading! I'd honestly been struggling to write something serious for ganqing for months, so I'm happy I finally finished this piece. 😭 I wrote this piece for the ganqing zine, 雨過天晴: Clear Skies After Rain, and I'm very happy to share it here as well! Thanks to my friends for their wonderful help as betas. Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!