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When she was young, her master used to tell her stories of old, bloodthirsty gods that had ravaged the lands of Liyue; now trapped deep underground, bound by the chains of their karmic debt as punishment for all the lives they'd taken. “So you’d better behave yourself, young lady, or I’ll toss you in there myself!”
Shenhe had always been a well-behaved child, even if she had been half-feral when Master found her. She looks back on her time in the mountains (quiet, secluded, peaceful ) with no small amount of fondness and nostalgia. When she tells other people such childhood anecdotes, though, they usually tell her that she's had a rather odd upbringing.
All this to say that Shenhe would now happily trade places with one of those old gods instead of being on the Monday morning shift at Wanmin’s. If they thought being trapped underground for an eternity was a horrific fate, they clearly have never been through the unique hell that is customer service.
“What would you like,” she says tonelessly to the man in front of her, who is squinting at the menu above her with increasing agitation.
“I’d have, uh….” the pause drags out. The people behind him in the queue shift restlessly. The man looks at the menu, then back to Shenhe, opens his mouth, then looks back at the menu. “Do you have unicorn frappes?”
A cough sounds from somewhere in the queue. Shenhe keeps her expression carefully flat. “No, we do not.”
Shenhe is actually a morning person. Master had instilled in her a strict schedule that meant she woke with the sun, which was precisely why Chef Mao had her work this particular shift. Usually they find someone more cheerful to handle the counter, but in the case of Monday mornings, nobody can find the energy within themselves to put on fake cheer. And so, Shenhe, who is alert enough and neutral when she makes an effort to be, was assigned to this shift. Unfortunately.
Aside from the few hours she has to endure on Monday mornings, however, she has had a pleasant experience working for Wanmin’s. She usually helps out in the back with meal prep for their lunch menu, only because she still hasn't developed the necessary skill to help out with the pastries; she can also mix drinks well enough. Mostly they send her out to do delivery runs, which is probably her favourite job to do. She likes getting the excuse to leave Wanmin’s for a bit, to bike down the busy streets of Liyue Harbour, one face among millions, and breathe. The city is always alive and buzzing in the way big cities usually are; a constant stream of light and sound and movement, like a heart that never stops beating. The noise and variety of it all overwhelms her sometimes. But while there are bad days, she can't say she regrets her decision to reintegrate with human society. She gets to see her nephew more often, gets to try any cuisine she wants, and gets to go see Yun Jin perform opera on the weekends. She loves the mountains she grew up in and she always will, but she and Master both knew she couldn't stay there forever.
That being said, she still tries to avoid crowds whenever she can. She feels most at ease in the early mornings, when the pale sky slowly saturates and swells with colour as the sun rises. Everything comes into sharper focus; the chirping of the birds as they stir, the shapes of the buildings drawn out stark in the haze of dawn, orange dawnlight trickling down the streets and glinting off of faraway windows.
Wanmin’s doesn’t properly open until 8, but staff get called in from 7 to prepare for the rest of the day. Shenhe is always there by 6:50, greeting a yawning Xiangling and her father as they make a start on the items on the daily menu. She helps them around the kitchen where she can, watching their motion with sharp eyes as they roll dough into pastries, cut vegetables into neat cubes, and toss ingredients into the large pots at the back of the kitchen to stew. When she has reached the limits of her usefulness within the kitchen, they have her set up the tables outside, and she will carefully lay out the cutlery and the napkins after giving the countertops a quick wipe. It is easier than dealing with people themselves, to just set out cutlery in the memorised pattern.
When she approaches the last table, the one in the corner by the window next to the emergency door, she finds it occupied.
With her unusual upbringing, Shenhe is rarely shaken by anything. So she just eyes the woman, who is leaning leisurely on her chair, a single die rolling between her slender fingers, and gives a brisk cough. “The shop doesn't open until 8.”
The woman looks up from her die, fingers going still. Her eyes are a piercing green like polished jade. She smiles. “That's unfortunate. I could really use a good fix of tea.”
“Apologies,” Shenhe says stiffly. ”You may come back again when the shop opens.”
The woman makes no sign of moving; just pockets her die and props her chin on her hand. Shenhe clears her throat. “Ahem. I will have to escort you off the premises if you refuse to leave willingly.”
The woman’s smile widens. ”And how long until the shop opens, again?”
“8 o’clock,” Shenhe says, “which is in…“
The telltale ring of the bell sounds from the front of the restaurant as Xiangling flips the sign from closed to open. The sun winks down at Shenhe from where it is securely in the middle of the sky, almost mocking.
The woman meets her gaze. She's smirking. “So how about that tea?”
Shenhe narrows her eyes. Be civil to the customers, Shenhe. Make eye contact, Shenhe. Try to smile, Shenhe.
She presses her lips into a thin line and reaches for her waitress’s notepad. “What will you be having today, miss?”
Wanmin’s is a family restaurant that doubles as a cafe; you get people dining in for meals and also the long lines, usually during the morning, at the bar ordering their takeaway drinks. The woman, without so much as glancing over at the menu above the bar, orders a Yunlai white tea with chili and violetgrass powder.
“With what?” Shenhe blinks.
“Ah, sorry, the teahouse I’m used to always had that in stock.”
Teahouse , Shenhe mouths to herself. Who comes into a cafe and orders Yunlai white tea ? “Violetgrass?”
“I just like having an extra kick to my tea, y’know?” The woman gives her a lazy grin. “You should try it sometime. It seems like an unlikely combination, but there's nothing like it.”
Xiangling has been itching to expand the menu lately. Shenhe makes a note to visit Bubu Pharmacy after her shift. For now, she turns her attention back to the woman. “We don’t have Yunlai white tea leaves in stock,” Shenhe informs her. “Will Oolong do?”
The woman leaves her name as Yelan, and Shenhe hurries behind the counter to start mixing her tea. Outside, she can hear the first few customers coping in, and Xiangling’s bubbly voice as she welcomes them. When she’s done, she slides the order to Xiangling, who looks round the restaurant. “I’ve got one Oolong tea, medium, hot, and..” Xiangling squints. “- with extra chilli powder, for a Ms. Yelan?”’
“That’s me,” Yelan says as she slides over to the counter. Her green eyes find Shenhe’s at the back, and she shoots her another smile, before heading back over to her corner.
Yelan. What a strange name. Shenhe is working in the shop today, tidying up the tables, and so she gets plenty of chances to check in on this Yelan . She has been sitting in her seat for the most part of the morning now, a sleek black laptop open on her table, staring at her screen with unfocused eyes. She taps away at it for a while, occasionally looking up, until about noon, when she snaps up her laptop and sidles up to Shenhe, who is collecting some dirty dishes from a nearby counter.
“Thanks for the chilli, Shenhe,” Yelan says.
She narrows her eyes. “How did you know my name?”
Yelan laughs. “Your nametag,” she explains. “I like this place. It’s no Yansheng Tea house, but it has a great view." Considering that the window by Yelan’s table just overlooks the main street, which a great amount of traffic passes through, Shenhe doesn't really understand the sentiment.
“I will try the herbs you mentioned,” Shenhe says in response. “Thank you for your patronage.”
Yelan’s eyes glitter like jade. “See you next time, then.”
Shenhe does in fact see her again. Yelan always arrives early in the mornings, a few minutes before opening, leaning her elbows on the counter as she waits for Shenhe to take her order. She gets Oolong tea with chilli powder everytime, and when Xiangling catches wind of this, she immediately petitions her father to make it an official menu item. For now, they've agreed to introduce it in autumn as a seasonal drink.
Sometimes, she doesn’t stay. Sometimes, she sits by the exact same table, laptop open, eyes flitting distractedly around the restaurant. Sometimes she just stares out the window, a vacant expression on her face that almost seems deliberate. Once, she helps Shenhe out with a particularly difficult customer.
(“The barista who served me last time told me you guys did cinnamon and valberry frappes,” the woman is insisting.
“Ma'am, we ran out of valberry,” Shenhe says, valiantly maintaining a neutral demeanour. “I have already told you this.”
“Well, you just served a valberry smoothie, didn't you? I don't see why I can't get my latte.”
“We use flavour syrup in lattes, ma’am,” Shenhe explains, imagining that the irritated woman in front of her is actually a confused toddler. “We have valberries in stock to make smoothies, but not valberry flavoured syrup to make your frappe. Apologies.”
“They're just valberries, for Rex Lapis’ sake. I'm on a tight schedule as it is without having to deal with incompetent baristas like you.”
Master would be outraged to hear the noble Rex Lapis’s name so carelessly invoked. Shenhe just sighs and tries to think of another way to dissuade the woman, when someone coughs sharply from the end of the line, followed by a familiar voice. “Ma’am, would you mind making a decision? The rest of us are waiting.”
Sure enough, Yelan’s cold gaze is fixed on the woman. “Is your hearing not very good, ma’am? Should I repeat loudly what the barista just told you?”
“I know what she said, but–”
“But you're being unreasonable, you're being rude, and you're wasting our time while you're at it,” Yelan says smoothly, her expression still placid. “If you cannot order something else other than a valberry latte, you can sit down and wait until the rest of us order.”
“Thanks for that,” Shenhe tells her after the woman had stormed off. ”I never know how to deal with customers like that. I would just punch them in the face but I have been told that that is not good customer service.”
Yelan had just laughed, oolong tea in hand. “Just get them to embarrass themselves. They'll back off quickly enough.”
“You are very good at this. Have you ever worked in customer service?”
“No, but I know how to deal with…uncooperative people.” Yelan sips her drink with a satisfied sigh. “All that fuss over valberries. Clearly, she hasn't experienced the wonders of violetgrass and chilli powder tea.”)
After that, Shenhe decides to purchase violetgrass from Bubu’s alongside her usual portion of Qingxins, and brews a pot of tea with chilli and violetgrass for herself that evening. When she sees Yelan again on Wednesday morning, she tells her so whilst punching in her order.
“It is an acquired taste,” Shenhe says.
Yelan grins. “It’s great, isn't it?”
“I find it a bit bitter for my personal liking, though the aftertaste is lasting. The chilli does add an unexpected aroma as well.”
“It’s genius,” Xiangling gushes from where she is prepping Yelan’s Oolong tea. “I can't wait to try different combinations for our autumn line. Do you think ground calla-lily would work well with the taste of violetgrass? Or maybe cinnamon…”
Shenhe turns back to Yelan and hands her her receipt. “Xiangling likes to experiment,” she says. “When the new drinks come out, I will be sure to brew one for you.”
“Looking forward to it,” Yelan replies. She smiles at Shenhe all the time, even though Shenhe doesn’t like to smile herself, and she gets the sense that Yelan somehow sees the sincerity and affability in her expression anyway.
“It's good to see you being friendly with the customers!” Xiangling says. “You know it's a big part of how we do things round here; Baba always says about wanting a community and not just a transactional relationship with patrons, stuff like that.” She beams. “We’re not called the common people’s restaurant for nothing.”
“She is…interesting,” Shenhe admits. There's a reason she tends to avoid customer service; but the way Yelan talks to her is strangely refreshing, especially considering that they had been practically strangers less than two weeks ago. From the way Xiangling is smiling, Shenhe has a gut feeling that her nephew and his boyfriend will have heard of this new development by the end of the day. She sighs. Is her being friendly with a new person really such a momentous occasion?
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Shenhe is, as Chef Mao often says, alway reliable in a pinch. It is a result of her relatively sparse personal life that she has so much downtime, and thus is often available to take on extra shifts. She doesn't mind, and the extra paycheck also doesn't hurt; she looks forward to spending it on expensive cooking machines that she has no idea how to use and fancy incense fragrances to light during meditation. Today, however, she has to fill in for Ga Ming when he comes down sick with a fever. Being one of the most outgoing employees they have, matching the level of Xiangling, Ga Ming takes a lot of the afternoon shifts during lunch rush hour. He can babble nonstop to customers, especially if they share his dialect, in which case they instantly start to swap life stories and commiserate over their families. Shenhe could never do that. But since he's off today, she finds herself stuck inside Wanmin’s during the busiest hours of the day; to make matters worse, Yelan hasn’t shown up this morning, which probably explains her poor mood. Still, she tries to not outwardly glower at any customers, forcing her most neutral expression to stick.
The door jingles, and Shenhe sees a familiar silhouette take their place at the back of the line. It might be Yelan, she thinks, and then immediately feels ridiculous for anticipating serving a certain customer. Master would chide her lack of professionalism.
Once the woman gets to the front of the line, Shenhe gets a proper look at her, and concludes that it really isn't Yelan; her hair is brown and tied neatly in a bun, glasses perched on her nose and she is dressed in a bland black suit and pencil skirt. Her eyes are also brown, but something about their shape and also the way her gaze lingers on Shenhe seems strangely familiar.
She clears her throat. “Welcome to Wanmin’s. What would you like today?”
“Oolong tea, iced,” says the woman, without sparing a glance at the menu.
Shenhe notes it down. “Would you like anything with that?”
“Just that will do,” says the woman. Even her voice is vaguely familiar.
“Okay, one iced Oolong tea for…”
“Linglan,” she says. She gives Shenhe a polite smile, but the way she dips her head slightly as her eyes flash is so familiar; such a minute detail that Shenhe might not have spotted it if she were not analysing every aspect of the woman's appearance. This is definitely Yelan, albeit looking slightly different. Isn’t it? Shenhe wonders if this is a trend that she had been unaware of. She knows some of Xingqiu’s friends like to ‘cosplay’; maybe Yelan was doing something similar? Anyway, Shenhe would not want to break her immersion, whatever the reason her roleplay is for, and so she calls out Linglan for the drink.
If it had only happened once, she would dismiss it as an uncanny coincidence. Maybe she had truly mistaken some stranger for Yelan. But over the next few days, while she is working elsewhere around the restaurant, she spots the woman again, dressed in a different outfit with different coloured hair and contacts, but still undeniably the same person. Stranger still, Yelan still comes in on Monday mornings as herself and asks for her oolong tea as usual without acknowledging that she came in just yesterday with brown hair and green contacts. Either Yelan happened to have a twin sister or doppelganger that Shenhe didn't know of, or these women are all just Yelan dressed differently. Still, what Yelan does in her own time isnt any of Shenhe’s business to pry into, so she just heads back into the kitchen to get the next order prepped for takeaway.
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Wanmin’s, with its reputation as a family diner and cafe, has its fair amount of regular patrons. Yelan and her doppelgangers are pretty recent on that list, which includes most of Xiangling’s extended family, her entire friend group, and the aunties and uncles who live down the road and like to gather for a weekly gossip session. Hu Tao, who is a part-timer and a ‘full-time gremlin’, as Xiangling had aptly put it, brings her girlfriend sometimes, who is a surprisingly respectable lawyer-in-training. Yun Jin also comes occasionally, along with her punk girlfriend whose volume settings are always dialled to the maximum. And then there's her nephew, Chongyun, who Shenhe would happily interact with if not for the company he keeps. The only reason she tolerates Xingqiu is because he inexplicably makes Chongyun happy, and so he is in her good books. Barely. Most people assume her grudge with him is out of some protective instinct over her nephew, and while they would not be entirely wrong, she has trained with Chongyun enough to trust in his ability to kick his boyfriend’s ass himself if the situation called for it.
Her grudge with Xingqiu is actually because of the incident on New Year’s, right here in this very restaurant, when he decided it would be a great idea to feed Chongyun Jueyun chillies. Needless to say, it had been retrospectively hilarious to Xingqiu, embarrassing at the time for Chongyun, and an absolute pain for Shenhe overall, who had to stay an extra half an hour to clean up. Not that the boys didn’t try to help with the reparations, but a Chongyun in one of his states and a half-drunk Xingqiu who burst out into a fresh peal of giggles every ten seconds did not prove to be particularly helpful.
Anyway, all this to say that now every time Xingqiu enters the establishment, she always watches his actions with veiled suspicion. Today, the two of them have just ordered drinks and a platter of crystal shrimp to share, bent over some sort of class project and muttering quietly to each other.
“Auntie Shenhe,” Chongyun calls. Xingqiu immediately sits up straighter. “Do you have a moment?”
She puts away the dishes and wipes her hands on a nearby towel before heading to their particular table. “What is it? Is the food alright?” She glances at Xingqiu, who smiles winningly, hands palm-up. “Hi, Shenhe-jie. Had a nice shift today?”
“The food’s fine,” Chongyun says, face pinking. “It’s about our project- well. Since, knowing your upbringing, I thought you'd be the right person to ask. Do you know what happened to Osial?”
“Osial?”
Xingqiu nods. “We’re doing a presentation for some cultural event. All the search results just talk about his first defeat, not the second, since technically it was after Rex Lapis’ death nobody counts that as a proper uprising, but it matters to me .”
“Oh.” Shenhe nods knowingly. “Crushed to death by a flying palace.”
Chongyun’s brow wrinkles. “What?”
“Master used to say that,” she says. “I was never sure if it was a joke or not.” She hums. “A palace crushing an army of soldiers does sound nigh impossible.”
“I can never tell whether you’re joking or not,” Xingqiu huffs.
“They were actually defeated by the Tianquan’s strategy,” Shenhe says with a shrug. “She leveraged her economic control of the country to seal the harbour. That way she deprived them of their supply lines so that Osial’s troops were unable to continue the fight.”
“That makes sense,” Xingqiu says. “I read somewhere that the Tianquan was quite involved in the privateering business. No doubt that gave her the advantage when dealing with a seaborne enemy.”
Chongyun’s fingers fly over his keyboard as he notes it down. “Thanks, Auntie.”
“You are welcome,” she replies. “Good luck with your project.”
“Ugh. We’ll need it,” Xingqiu grumbles. He gives the spoon in his cup a swirl. “Hey, Yun, want a sip of my matcha latte?”
“It's still hot,” Shenhe says, with a meaningful look. Chongyun blushes. “It’s fine, Auntie, I won’t get worked up over a little sip.”
“It’s cooled down already,” Xingqiu says, turning to Chongyun. “Here, let me blow on it for you–”
“I see another customer,” Shenhe says, and flees the scene. She is well aware how people in romantic relationships tend to act. She just prefers not to personally witness them taking place, especially with her nephew. What he shares with Xingqiu is strange, but it seems to be a positive experience on both sides, and so she leaves them be.
The other customer turns out to be a familiar woman with dark wavy curls spilling down her back and dressed in a flowery sundress. She pushes the sunglasses from her face, revealing unfamiliar hazel eyes. Even without her usual appearance and mannerisms, she acts in a way that makes her almost conscious of them, too conscious, where she would try to avoid them deliberately.
“Hi, I’d like to order—”
“Oolong tea?” Shenhe asks. She's already putting it down on the machine. Yelan doesn't look so much as startled as mildly baffled, the polite confusion of someone who thought they'd heard someone calling their name all the way across a room. “Oh, yes,” she says, her voice deliberately pitched. “How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess,” Shenhe says dryly. “I’ll get you some chilli powder with that too.”
“Chilli?” Yelan’s confusion grows.
Shenhe nods. “It’s all the rage.” Yelan orders her tea with chilli powder all the time; surely her drink preferences don't just change along with every wardrobe switch? Maybe this was just a quirk of hers. “One oolong tea with chilli powder, for–”
“Yuezhen, please,” Yelan cuts in smoothly.
Today, she sits at a different table near the front doors, flicking through an old paperbound novel, and leaves so abruptly that Shenhe doesn’t even notice. It’s nearing 4, and the boys in the corner have all but tired of their project. Seeing as the shop has mostly quieted down, she heads over to Chongyun and Xingqiu, depositing two ice lollies on their table.
“Thanks, Auntie,” Chongyun says, like the polite nephew he is. “You're the best, Shenhe-jie,” Xingqiu is quick to add.
“When’s your shift ending?” Chongyun asks. His other hand is absent-mindedly tangled with Xingqiu’s fingers across the table. Xingqiu is struggling to open his ice lolly with a single hand.
She peers over her shoulder to look at the clock. “Half an hour, just until Zhihua comes in to take over,” she replies. Though she would prefer to leave as soon as possible so he doesn't talk her ear off about his miserable lack of a love life again.
“We’ll probably leave around the same time,” Chongyun says. “Qiu wants to loiter in Wanwen Bookhouse again.”
“ You loiter,” Xingqiu says with a sniff. “ I browse the different titles they have to offer.”
“You just rate the ones you’ve already read and rant at me about your favourite characters,” Chongyun says, and Xingqiu gasps with mock offense.
“Anyway, Auntie, tell mum I’ll be back for dinner tonight. If you're coming?”
“Possibly,” Shenhe hedges. “It’s been a long day, though.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he sighs. “Not your usual shift and everything.”
Shenhe is glad to have such an understanding nephew. Hopefully he will chase them off her tail for now. “Actually, I did encounter something strange,” she starts. “It’s been going on for a while, but it happened again today.”
When both boys turn to her with interest, she clears her throat. ”Is it normal for someone to occasionally completely change their hairstyle and eye colour and also answer to a different name?”
Chongyun looks a bit taken aback. “Um. What?”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Xingqiu says.
Archons, how does she explain this? “There is this…customer who I am on familiar terms with. She came in today and a few times previously under a different alias and looked completely different. She also gave no indication that she knew me.” Shenhe frowns. “Did I offend her in some way? Is she trying to put distance between us?”
“That’s,” Xingqiu coughs. “Interesting.”
“I have entertained the possibility that she’s - what do you call it - roleplaying. Perhaps wearing different costumes helps her get in character. Like how Yun Jin immerses herself in a performance. What's the word…Method acting?”
Xingqiu looks as though he’s about to burst out laughing. “You’re talking about, like, three different things here.”
Chongyun still looks lost. “How did you even know it was the same person, if she looked and acted so differently?”
Shenhe thinks. “Instinct?” Both boys give her unimpressed looks. “Some of her mannerisms she hides too deliberately,” she amends. “Also, they have very similar drink orders.”
“I’d say confront or ask her about it if this happens again,” Chongyun says. “It's not concerning, just a bit…out of ordinary, so I’d say you don’t have to be worried.”
As Hu Tao would sometimes tease her, Shenhe’s baby nephew has ‘more game’ than she does. It is true that Chongyun seems to get better at handling interpersonal relationships with each passing year, and for this she’s glad for his guidance. It's strange, but she doesn't recall ever wanting to be acquainted with someone so badly.
She does wish they would stop being so clingy right in front of her. Right now, Xingqiu has somehow migrated from his side of the table to Chongyun’s, and is wheedling for a taste of his ice lolly. Judging from the shade of her nephew’s face, she may need to intervene.
Actually, maybe Chongyun’s got this covered. He shoves the ice lolly in question into Xingqiu’s mouth, which successfully shuts him up and causes both of their faces to flare a brilliant scarlet hue like ripe Jueyun chillies.
“Shout for me if you need cold water,” she says and gets up with a sigh. Teenagers.
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Thursdays are Shenhe’s night shifts. They can get crowded but it is nowhere near the weekend nights which she hears from Xiangling, they have to get people to leave within an hour and half because of the size of the queue. According to her, the patrons get incredibly rowdy with the right combination of people, especially if alcohol gets involved. Weekdays, however, attract mostly working men and women looking for a quick bite or drink, and the occasional family, and then they are left with the quiet of the restaurant when most of them have left; the humming of the air-conditioning, the soft pop that plays in the background. Hu Tao, who works the same shift, in the back of the kitchen humming to the lyrics. Shenhe’s footsteps on the floor as she drags the mop across the floor. Outside, the night flickers with a million little pinpricks of light like a sea of stars, shifting. The faint rumble of traffic, somewhere in the distance.
The bell chimes as a customer enters. It’s Yelan; Shenhe hasn't seen her in her first appearance - cropped hair, blue-green jadeite eyes, white fur jacket - for the last week or so.
In the fluorescent lighting, her skin seems duller than usual, visible circles sagging under her eyes. Still, she shoots Shenhe a bright smile. “Fancy seeing you here so late.”
“You look tired,” Shenhe says. “Sit. The usual?”
“I- yes, that would be nice,” Yelan says. Her smile softens a little. “I’d like that.”
Shenhe retrieves the violetgrass and chilli powder she keeps for her own tea at the back, then brews a hot mug of tea and mixes it in. She ignores Hu Tao’s probing looks. She also heats up some left-over shrimp stir fry, and walks back out to find Yelan slumped at her usual table, her jacket pooling around her like melted snow.
“Here you go,” she says. “Some leftovers. And your Yunlai white tea with chilli and violetgrass. On the house.”
“I–what? How did you–”
“They're my own ingredients,” she says. “So. Free of charge because technically it's not from Wanmin’s.”
“You really know your way to a woman's heart, huh.” Yelan takes a tentative sip, then glances back up at Shenhe. “Well, don't just stand there.”
Shenhe sits, hands folded on her lap, and watches Yelan drink her tea for several long moments before wondering if she should attempt to make conversation. This was how one consolidated their friendships, right? Connecting with one another during each others’ times of crises. “I haven't seen you around lately,” she says carefully. Not as ‘Yelan’, anyway. Still, there are better times and places to bring up the doppelganger situation, so Shenhe just watches as Yelan sets down her cup with a heavy sigh.
“Work has kept me busy,” she says. “It's been a long week. But we’re getting close to a breakthrough.”
“What sort of work is it?” Shenhe asks. Innocuous enough, but it shows her interest in Yelan’s personal life and Yelan as a person. Perfect. Inexplicably, Yelan seems to tense a little, but she shrugs it off just as casually as she goes about with everything else. “Some boring government office job,” she says. “I got transferred here to deal with a data issue. They're working me to the bone.”
“It is not good to be too work-oriented,” Shenhe agrees. “After your business has concluded, we should meditate together to expel your additional stress.”
“As in, you want to meet up?” Yelan asks. She laughs, incredulous. “To meditate .”
“It is a beneficial practice,” Shenhe says.
“Yeah, yeah,” Yelan says with a smirk. “At least grab a coffee with me first.”
“I thought you were more of a tea person,” Shenhe says, confused. “If you want coffee, I will make you one next time you order.”
“No- that's not -” Yelan breaks off with another laugh. “Nevermind. Meditation sounds nice. I’d love to do that with you.”
“Thanks for the food,” she adds. “And the tea. I feel more or less human now.”
“I'm glad I could help,” Shenhe says, something warm and foreign bubbling in her chest. So this is what people mean when they call helping other people rewarding . Yelan’s smile and goodwill directed towards Shenhe, as a person, not just an employee, feels like a reward. Something she’d somehow earned.
Yelan checks her watch and her face wrinkles a bit. “Ah, I've got to go. Business calls. Catch you later, Shenhe, yeah?”
Shenhe glances at the clock. It is currently 12 minutes to 10 pm, which is also closing time. Whatever strange job Yelan works has even stranger hours. “Be safe,” she says in reply, taking Yelan’s empty dishes away.
Somehow, Yelan seems to find this amusing. “I'm always safe,” she says with a laugh. “Anyway. I really have to go now.”
Like a shadow, she slips out the door and into the night. Hu Tao emerges from the kitchen and peers over the counter with a low whistle. “She's a catch, Shenhe-jiejie. Please tell me you've at least asked for her number. Or did she ask for yours?”
“Number? Of what kind?” Shenhe frowns. “Her table number?”
Hu Tao doubles over with laughter. “Nevermind,” she wheezes. “Never change, jiejie.”
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Shenhe is the last one left in the shop after Hu Tao leaves in the family hearse that pulls up to the restaurant door like some kind of limousine for celebrities. She flips the sign to ‘closed’ and checks she's left everything in good order. Once satisfied, she closes the door behind her. Tomorrow is her free day, which means she gets the morning to herself to meditate in peace. Chongyun and his family have also extended an invite to brunch should she decide to seek out the company of others.
Nights in Liyue Harbour are no less busy. She usually likes to take a shortcut, some barely used footpath that cuts through an old tunnel and then an abandoned park. A piece of reclaimed wilderness in the rigid urban structure of the city, a sanctuary of peace and quiet away from the bustling nightlife.
It is also, among other things, which she realises as she hears a rustle in a nearby bush, an ideal place to get robbed.
Robbed is a strong word. Right now the three men that had jumped out of the bushes are pointing knives at her, eyes narrowed threateningly behind their masks. So far, they haven't done much else, which is why she does not consider this a robbery.
“Don't move,” one of them hisses, and Shenhe pauses. It’s not like she could if she wanted to; this is a very narrow path currently blocked by three adult men. She sighs inwardly. So much for peace and quiet. The very reason she even took this dodgy path was to avoid unnecessary interactions with other people.
“Hey, you.” A different man pipes up this time. His gaze roves over Shenhe in a deeply unpleasant manner that reminds her of grease. It stains. “You're the adeptus girl, aren’t you?”
Shenhe blinks. “Adeptus?” She was under the impression that modern humans no longer believed in the legends. Master always used to complain about the good old days when they would know to show the proper respect and fear, perform the rituals correctly and with care, et cetera. In any case, she isn’t one herself. “I'm human.”
They rudely ignore her. “She's the one,” the third man confirms, unfurling a wad of paper. “Look. matches the description.”
Now they acknowledge her presence. The first man’s eyes curve. He’s smiling under that mask. “We’re gonna be rich, thanks to you.”
“I don't think I follow,” says Shenhe, who currently has a grand total of 62 yuan in her card. Enough for two of those boba drinks Chongyun’s boyfriend is so fond of. Three if she gets the cheaper options. “I earn minimum wage.”
“Don’t play dumb,” the second man spits. “You're Cloud Retainer’s disciple, aren't you? Bet she'd pay a hefty sum for your safety. And there’ll be plenty of other people who would love to hand over some cash for you if she doesn't comply.”
“I'm sorry,” Shenhe says. “You think my master would come all the way down to the mortal world for this ?” Now this is familiar, the cold disdain that could petrify a grown man, the ire of something divine. She wriggles her hands experimentally, feeling the knot tugging and chafing at her wrists. “Besides, we don't believe in hoarding material wealth. She has plenty of spiritual wealth though, which you so clearly lack.” She gives them each an icy glare. “Maybe I could convince her to come down and lecture you on proper conduct.”
“Oh, shut up,” snarls the third man. “If that stupid magic bird won't come, then we’ll just sell you off to whoever shouts the loudest.”
“Whatever,” Shenhe says. “Can I go home now?”
The man bristles. “Did you hear what I said? I said -”
“I did.” Shenhe shakes her hands free of the rope and swings; it connects solidly with the man’s nose. There is a satisfying crack as he presses a hand to his face with a moan. “But I would much rather go home and sleep.” Another kick, two punches, a dodge, and -
She steps back to observe her handiwork. Master will be pleased her martial prowess has not gone rusty. She might not be so happy about the fact that Shenhe has broken her streak of not causing bodily harm to another human; but this time, at least, she was only acting out of self defence.
“Thanks for the practice,” she says. “If you could call it that. My nephew probably makes for a more challenging sparring partner than any of you.” She feels a surge of pride as she remembers their last session. “He's very good with his fists. And his claymore.”
“This isn't over,” one of the men grits out. He claws himself upright, blinking round the bruise on his eye. “You–”
A sudden flash of blue. When Shenhe blinks the flare behind her eyelids away, the men are neatly bundled in cocoons of glowing blue thread which leads back to a familiar face. “I think you will find that this is, quite officially, over.” She grins. “Good effort though, you had my team running in circles for a bit there.”
“Yelan,” she says, at the same time the three men on the ground start, eyes widening. “ Yelan ? It's Yelan, oh my gods.”
The woman in question looks up at Shenhe with a brilliant smile. “Thanks for saving me the trouble. I'd been tailing them but could never figure out how they were trying to achieve their plans.”
“It is no problem,” Shenhe says with a nod.
Yelan looks her up and down, smile widening. “I would ask if you're okay, but I think you did a pretty good job of handling the situation.”
She shrugs, cheeks heating a little. “I excel at solving problems via force.”
“Straightforward,” Yelan says with a smirk. “I like that in a woman.”
Shenhe peers down at the tied up men, trying to ignore the strange flutter in her chest. “How do you know them?”
“The NDA covers that, sorry.” Yelan gives her blue ropes another tug as the men shrink away from her gaze. “The rough idea is that they’re part of a smuggling ring. I've got to bring them into custody.” She turns her attention back to Shenhe. “They said you were an adeptus?”
“I was raised by one,” Shenhe clarifies. At Yelan’s raised eyebrows, she adds, “I have been told that I have had an odd upbringing. I reintegrated into human society a couple years prior, having acquired a job and an apartment.”
“Wow,” Yelan says. “I knew you looked divine the moment I saw you.” Shenhe’s mind blanks for a very brief second as she scrambles to put that statement into context. “I'm assuming that's how you were able to obliterate these guys?”
She nods woodenly. “Master trained me personally in the art of the spear. Among other martial arts.”
“Still.” Yelan’s eyes glimmer with concern. “You sure you're okay?”
“It is no worse than unruly customers,” Shenhe says.
She chuckles. “I didn't know they got that bad.”
“Not really,” Shenhe admits. “I tend to react disproportionately. Apparently, jumping the queue does not constitute a threat of physical violence.”
Yelan outright laughs at that. “Well, maybe they should have been more considerate,” she says. “Guess I should be glad these guys are still in one piece, then.”
“I practice restraint daily,” Shenhe assures her.
“Good to hear,” Yelan says, glancing down at the tied-up men with a wry smile. “The paperwork would not have been pretty.” She turns back to Shenhe. “Oh yeah, can I get your number? I need to go now but I’ll check up on you later.”
“Number?”
“On your phone. For texting.” Shenhe likes how Yelan does not judge or look at her weirdly when she admits she doesn't know something. She also helps her enter in her contact information one-handed, grinning when she succeeds. Shenhe peers down at her phone, a blocky thing with a cracked screen that Hu Tao had got her as soon as she found out Shenhe had no idea what the internet was. Yelan’s contact name and profile picture (a pot of vibrant orchids) glows back at her.
“All set up,” Yelan beams, pocketing her own phone and turning back to Shenhe. “Oh, you've got a little something.” With her forefinger, Yelan leans in alarmingly close and wipes something off of Shenhe’s cheek. “Blood,” she explains, her eyes glinting aquamarine in the half-darkness. “Get home safe, Shenhe.”
She nods, mind suddenly blank. There's a tiny mole on the corner of Yelan’s mouth. Shenhe doesn't know what to do with the information. “I hope your work goes well.”
Yelan hefts the rope with a grunt. “Dragging this lot back to HQ will be such a hassle. Oh, well.” She smiles one last time. “See you around?”
“Yes,” Shenhe manages, wondering if there is perhaps a better way of conveying the sentiment that she would very much like to see Yelan as soon as possible. Before she gets to it, Yelan is already strolling away, dragging the three men behind her with apparent ease.
----------------
(23:48) hi shenhe
did you get home alright?
(23:51) Yes. Thank you for the concern.
(23:52) oh no, i shd be thanking you for earlier. u totally saved me and my team another all-nighter:D
(23:53) It was no problem. I am glad to help.
(23:53) no seriously, ive got to treat you to something another time
you sure ur alright?
(23:54) Yes. They were no threat.
(23:55) You seem capable in a fight. Would you like to join me and my nephew for training sometime?
(23:55) ofc! i’d love to
(23:56) Ofc?
(23:56) of course
i’ll let you get some rest, but feel free to message me if you need anything or just want to talk;)
(23:57) I will. Thank you, Yelan.
“I see you got her number,” Xiangling says with a sunny beam. It is the first thing she has said to Shenhe this morning, and she is feeling vaguely threatened.
“She offered,” Shenhe replies carefully, shielding her phone away from Xiangling’s line of sight. “She wanted to make sure I got home safe.”
“And they say chivalry is dead,” Xiangling says with a giggle.
“No one says that,” Shenhe says. It is already the following Monday, and she still hasn't figured out a way to politely ask Yelan to meet up over text. But Xiangling doesn't need to know that.
“Anyway, I’m happy on your behalf, just make sure Baba doesn't catch you texting your crush during your shift,” she says with a wink. “Ah, I've always wanted to have a meet-cute happen here! Who knew it'd be you of all people?”
“A meet-cute?”
Right on cue, the bell at the front door rings, followed by the shuffle and conversation accompanying their first customers of the day. “Ah, here they come,” Xiangling continues cheerfully. “Look alive, Shenhe! Tell me all the details during our break,” she adds, before hurrying off to the kitchen.
Shenhe wonders what Xiangling is so excited to hear about. Surely it isn't the attempted robbery? As she takes down the orders of the next few customers, she spots a head of blonde hair at the back of the line. The blonde woman, when she arrives at the counter, looks up at Shenhe with familiar eyes, today a shade of watery blue, and smiles.
“Morning,” Shenhe says. “Is it the usual, then?”
“The usual?”
“Oolong tea with spice,” she says, because this was all Yelan ever ordered, different outfit or not. “I've got violetgrass today for you.”
“I've never been here before,” the woman that is Yelan says hesitantly. “It's my first time.”
“No it’s not,” Shenhe says slowly. Was she meant to play along? Yelan shakes her head minutely, lips thinning. She gives Shenhe a meaningful look.
“I mean,” Shenhe says with a cough. “I must have mistaken you for someone else, apologies. So. Oolong tea with spice?”
“Yes, thank you,” Yelan says, smiling again.
“For a Miss…”
“Tanhua,” she offers.
“Got it.”
Shenhe gets off her shift at the counter soon, heading over to Yelan’s table in the corner where its occupant is now drinking their oolong tea, laptop open on the table. She looks up when Shenhe approaches, blonde hair falling around her shoulders.
“How long?” Yelan asks.
“A few weeks ago,” Shenhe admits.
“Archons damnit.” Yelan gives her a wry smile. “Well, thanks for not blowing my cover. Ningguang is going to be insufferable once she finds out I got spotted by a civilian.” She coughs. “Pretend I didn't say that.”
“Is it your work?” Shenhe asks, wondering if she had just irrevocably ruined the easy friendship they shared. That thought sends her into a mild panic. “Is that why you dress and act like a different person occasionally? Like a roleplay?”
Yelan blinks, eyes wide. “It's not a - well.” She sighs. “It's similar. It's just easier to find out some things if you possess multiple identities. And my job is to collect information. Let's leave it at that.” She smiles, familiar despite her different features. “I'm honestly impressed you saw through it though.”
“Don't worry, you weren't obvious or anything,” Shenhe assures her. “I just observe more than others. Master insisted we hone all five of our senses as part of our training.”
“Oh, really?” Yelan leans forward, smile widening into a smirk. “So you were watching me closely?”
“You are interesting,” Shenhe says, watching the way Yelan’s cheeks pink. “In a good way, though at first the wardrobe and personality swap was a little off-putting.”
“You're not bad yourself, Miss adeptus,” Yelan says with a chuckle. “I've got a new assignment in a week or so, but for now I've asked them to station me here.” She leans back, taking a sip of her tea. “What can I say? This place grew on me.” Her eyes soften. “As well as the people.”
Shenhe’s heart thumps loudly in her chest. “My shift ends at 3,” she blurts.
Yelan grins, and Shenhe feels the knot in her chest loosen with relief. “You know what, I've got someone to trail right now, but I should be free this evening,” she says. “I might take you up on that offer of mediation.”
“After we get dinner,” says Shenhe decisively. “Together.”
“How forward.” Yelan’s eyes glitter with fond amusement. “It's a date, then.”
“Yes,” Shenhe says, something bright unfurling in her chest. “Yes it is. Today, in fact.” She clears her throat. “I’ll see you later?”
Yelan smiles, same as always. “See you later, Shenhe.”