You wake up with eyes still heavy from staying up late thinking about your fate, and open the curtains of your lodging room.
The morning sunlight pierces sharply, forcing you to close your eyes due to the glare. The reality of a new day greets without mercy.
After that, you put on your clothes and go out, facing the world that demands your Mora.
As you walk without a definite purpose, an old voice calls you.
"Aren't you the young man who helped me?" says the old man, his voice hoarse but warm.
"Hmm?" you stop, your steps halted. You turn and see the old man you helped yesterday. He's sitting beside his simple cart, arranging wooden crafts and cheap jewelry. You approach him.
"Thank you for your help before," says the old man, his bleary eyes narrowing in a sincere smile.
"Thank you back, but..." you smile awkwardly, your hand reflexively scratching the back of your head. "As I said yesterday, like I have free time for that."
"As I said, I still have to thank you for helping me," he cuts in gently but firmly. "There aren't many good people in this world. Most of them only care about themselves and are apathetic to others' problems. This is the law of nature in a trading harbor."
You don't know what to say, so you just stay silent. The praise feels heavy on your shoulders.
"Is there anything else I can help with, Grandpa?" you ask finally, trying to be polite. You pause, seeing he's fine. "If not, I excuse myself."
"Wait a moment." The old man raises his hand, stopping you.
He stares at you intently, his gaze piercing your calm mask.
"You're not from Liyue, are you?" he asks, tilting his head. "Lately, I've often heard people talking about a foreigner wearing strange clothes and shoes. From what I hear, that foreigner does weird things like talking to himself, dancing in the crowd, and laughing madly."
"When I heard that, I immediately thought of you," he continues.
Your face heats up. Rumors spread faster than fire in dry grasslands.
"Hehe, you're right, Grandpa." you scratch the back of your head again, this time out of embarrassment. "I'm indeed not from here."
Well, I'm from Earth... you mutter inwardly.
"As an outsider, you seem lost." The man pauses, giving a meaningful break. "Is there anything I can help with? You can talk about it. I'll listen."
The offer is tempting. But your ego, or perhaps your fear, rejects it. Maybe this is a form of defense. Survival instinct. Telling stories is hard, especially to strangers.
"Thank you, Grandpa. But no need. This is my own problem, I can't let others help me."
You turn and are about to leave. You sigh long. Though this is a good opportunity to get a job.
"Do you need money?"
That question stops your steps instantly.
"Every traveler I know must have financial problems. I know you have the same problem but I can't prove it," says the old man, his voice calm like pond water.
You stay silent but don't turn. Your back stiff.
"I can give you a job."
You widen your eyes and immediately turn, staring at the old man with wide eyes. He's offering what you need most right now.
"As you see, my body is no longer strong for heavy work." He stands slowly, showing his hunched back and trembling legs. "Doing work like this every day is very tiring, it feels like my soul is sucked every second. I need an assistant. Or a temporary successor."
"Of course, I'll pay you. Besides, this is a job," he continues.
You pause, weighing the offer. Becoming a street vendor? That's far from an isekai hero's dream, but very close to survival reality.
"If you don't want to, you can refuse it."
You wait a few moments, letting the sea breeze caress your face, before answering, "Let me think about it first."
"Take your time. If you've thought it through thoroughly, come to me. I'll wait here until evening approaches night."
You glance at his merchandise—wooden combs, children's toys, imitation jade bracelets—and understand he intends to sell those items here. It's simple work, but honest.
After that, you head to the harbor, carrying that offer in your head like an unspent coin.
Your steps take you far to the loading area.
There, you see the raw bustle scene. People are carrying goods, moving boxes from Liyue to boats, and vice versa. Sweat pouring, muscles tensing, foremen's shouts here and there.
You stare at that in silence.
Until someone pats your shoulder.
"Hey," someone greets you. "What are you looking at?"
You are shocked briefly and turn. It's a man your age, bare-chested with cloth tied on his head, his body full of harbor dust. He stares into your eyes with casual curiosity.
Don't you have eyes? I'm watching people carrying goods! you grumble annoyed inwardly, before sighing softly.
"The sea," you answer casually, trying to sound poetic.
"Hmm?" he tilts his head. "But to me, you seem like you're looking for someone."
You pause. His guess hits the mark. You're right, I am looking for someone!
"I work carrying goods too like them," he points toward the harbor laborers. "I can help you find him if you tell me who you're looking for."
"You work? Then why are you here..." you tilt your head and narrow your eyes, assessing his laziness. "Don't tell me you're skipping."
He looks shocked before smiling wide, showing his white teeth. "Every human has the right to rest their body before lifting loads again. Of course, I've excused myself to the toilet, as long as no one sees and reports I'm slacking."
He pauses briefly and brings his face close to your ear, whispering conspiratorially. "Please don't tell anyone about this. I don't want to go back to carrying goods yet."
You stare at him strangely. This person is too relaxed.
"So, how about it?" he asks again.
"No need."
When you're about to turn, your eyes catch something. A familiar figure.
You see Ganyu's figure approaching the goods carriers at the dock end. She's holding a clipboard, talking to a ship foreman.
You are shocked briefly. Your heart pounds. She's here.
You immediately turn to the man, trying to dig for information while keeping an eye on Ganyu from the corner of your eye.
"How many hours do you work in a day?" you ask suddenly.
He widens his eyes, confused by the drastic topic change. "Eight hours, not including breaks."
"How about the wage, is it worth it?"
"At least enough to survive. The rest, well some people use it to save and some for hobbies." He shrugs. "I think it's enough to live in Liyue. Are you interested in working as a goods carrier?"
Exactly as scheduled... she comes to the harbor, you mutter inwardly, ignoring Henri's job offer.
At this point, you no longer hear what he's saying. Your focus narrows. You're staring at Ganyu who's noting something in a book while observing the people carrying goods.
She looks serious, professional, yet still radiates a strange gentleness amid the harbor's harshness.
"Hey, are you listening?" Henri pats your shoulder again.
You are shocked and look at him. "Ah sorry, what was it about?"
He narrows his eyes, then follows your gaze. "You're not at all interested in my job."
He sees the medium-bodied girl, fair skin, beautiful cerulean blue hair, characteristic qilin horns, and captivating heterochromia eyes. She stands there like a lotus flower amid mud.
That's Ganyu.
Henri smiles meaningfully. "I understand."
"What do you understand?" you narrow your eyes.
"Nothing," he says teasingly.
You feel he understands you're interested in Ganyu, so you decide to utilize his knowledge. You start opening up a bit.
"Does she come here often?" you ask.
"Who do you mean?" he asks in a teasing tone.
"Don't pretend to be stupid."
He chuckles. "Not too often." He pauses, recalling. "She usually comes once every month. I don't really pay attention to what she does but she always brings a notebook. Maybe that's her job as secretary to note supplies entering and leaving Liyue."
"What I know is she's quite hardworking. I mean, some people show reluctance in working, but I don't see that in her. On the contrary, she's very enthusiastic about it."
You listen in silence, absorbing every word.
Then you observe the people around the dock. The laborers steal glances at Ganyu. Some blush when she passes.
"Is she popular?"
"I don't know elsewhere, but here..." Henri nods firmly. "Yes, she's popular. Very popular. Most young men working as goods carriers have a crush on her. It's natural considering her nature and beautiful, charming appearance."
He sighs dramatically. "But only a few try to approach her. Like talking to her, or going somewhere. But none succeed. From what I hear, she doesn't want to pursue a romantic relationship with someone yet."
Doesn't want to pursue a relationship yet...
He then pats your shoulder and nods several times, giving fellow man sympathy. "Good luck."
He pauses before saying, "By the way, my name is Henri. What's your name?"
"I don't have a name," you say flatly.
Well, I'm not lying, I forgot my own name... you mutter.
"Hey, are you kidding? Are you a slave or something so you don't have a name? At least give a nickname or something to call you," Henri says in disbelief.
"Then... Traveler," you say just like that.
"Traveler?" he asks, tilting his head. "Somehow that doesn't sound unfamiliar to my ears..."
He snaps his fingers. "Aha!" then continues, "I heard rumors about a weird traveler. Apparently he wears strange clothes at first, especially his shoes, then he often talks to himself, does weird movements, and various rumors unpleasant to hear, don't tell me that's you?"
You feel embarrassed hearing that. Your reputation ruined even before you started it.
At this point, you see Ganyu seems finished with her work. She closes her notebook and turns.
As she turns, her gaze sweeps the area and meets yours.
Time stops briefly.
You are shocked, but then try to calm down.
Remember your practice!
Remember yesterday's meeting!
You raise your hand and wave at her calmly, trying to smile politely.
Ganyu also looks shocked seeing you there. Her eyes blink. But then, she smiles thinly and returns your wave.
She remembers!
Your face immediately reddens. Your heart explodes. You immediately turn, unable to hold that gaze longer.
"See you," you say to Henri quickly, then walk away with wide, stiff steps.
You return to the old man's place with still racing breath, not from running, but from the adrenaline of that short meeting.
"Have you decided?" the man waits for you, sitting patiently on his wooden bench.
You stop, staring at his merchandise. Then staring at his old face.
"I'm still hesitant," you answer honestly.
"What makes you hesitant? Sit down. Please tell, perhaps I can give you advice regarding what makes you hesitant," says the old man, patting the empty bench beside him.
You sit, feeling the hard wood beneath you. You draw a long breath.
"Actually, I've never been a merchant. If I accept this job, this is the first time for me," you start, spilling your heart.
"I know being a merchant is hard. Dealing with people is hard, especially for someone not used to socializing like me. Just imagining it makes me shiver."
You stare at your own hands. "I'm afraid if I decide to accept this offer, and become a merchant, I'll fail in facing the problems. I also don't know what kind of people I'll face in the future. Perhaps the ones I meet are people I can't face so I take forbidden actions... like hitting a buyer out of annoyance."
The old man listens in silence, nodding occasionally. He smiles wisely.
"You know… what you're thinking is actually just something called 'what if'.
"It's all just in your mind. The events haven't even really happened. It's all just illusions that chain you in ignorance."
He stares at the eyes of passing people. "I've heard someone say that the first experience is the scariest. I agree with that statement. And that's why you must overcome that fear to become a better person than now."
He turns to you. "Let me ask you one thing. What's your reason for wanting to accept this offer?"
He pauses. "I know you're currently not in a definite position to accept. But hesitation means from the bottom of your heart you want to do it. You're just stopped by your thoughts."
You pause, letting the market noise seep into your soul. Then you sigh, releasing your doubt along with the exhaled air.
"I've decided," you say firmly.
"I want to work."
The old man smiles wide, the wrinkles on his face deeper but looking happy.
"A good decision," says the old man. "Welcome to Liyue's trading world, Kid. My name is Zhang."
…
You sigh long, exhaustion vapor out of your mouth.
Your first day as a merchant assistant starts not with cheers, but with confusion. After agreeing to work, Uncle Zhang immediately hands you your "holy scripture": a shabby sheet of paper with a list of merchandise prices.
Sandalwood wooden comb: 500 Mora. Imitation jade bracelet: 2000 Mora. Windmill toy: 300 Mora.
While selling merchandise, serving buyers who bargain savagely, you are forced to memorize every price in the midst of chaos.
Your brain, used to the all-digital modern world, now forced to work analog.
Fortunately, no big problems during the process. You smile, you nod, you wrap goods.
However, your honesty has limits.
Several times you do cheat, glancing at the paper under the table because it's impossible to memorize everything in a day. You're like a cheating student during an exam, but here, failure means an empty stomach.
"Hard… luckily the people I faced today aren't the problematic type," you mutter while tidying the remaining merchandise as the sun starts setting.
Today the sales are done.
The sky turns into a bruised purple canvas.
After finishing tidying, you rest briefly, wiping sweat on your forehead with your sleeve. You stare at Liyue's bustling life. Lights start turning on, turning the city into a sea of artificial stars. You feel becoming a small part of this giant machine, a gear finally turning.
After that, you and old man Zhang immediately take the merchandise cart home. The cart wheels creak on the paving stones, a sound that now sounds like a lullaby to you.
Turns out the old man's house isn't too far from the selling place, a simple hut in a quiet district.
"Thank you for helping me sell," says Zhang, his voice sincere.
He sits on his rattan chair, looking relieved because his back doesn't have to bear today's burden.
You nod and smile, a tired but satisfied smile.
Zhang rummages in his inner pocket, takes something with trembling hands, and hands you a small clinking cloth pouch.
"This is for the wage."
You accept it happily. Your hand feels the pouch's weight. Mora. Real money. The result of your own sweat in this foreign world!
Your face looks blooming, as if you just held a victory trophy. Today I'll eat well! you mutter inwardly, unable to hold the wide blooming smile.
"See you, Old Man Zhang!"
You bid farewell, your steps now much lighter than when you came this morning.
You're no longer a beggar or stalker. This time, you're a worker!
You walk in Liyue's trading center now turned into a glittering night market.
Grilled Tiger Fish and Mora Meat aromas assault your nose, making your stomach sing.
You glance around, scanning food stalls. Then your gaze stops. The world seems to brake suddenly.
Amid the passing human crowd, amid cooking steam and lantern light, stands a figure shining in her own way. That cerulean blue hair, those black-red horns.
You are shocked when your gaze catches the figure ahead.
That's Ganyu!
She stands near an old book kiosk, seeming to browse, though her eyes empty, as if her mind floats far to unfinished document stacks.
You are extremely shocked. Your heart pounds. She's here.
You try to calm down, drawing deep breaths, and try to approach her. Your steps that were casual now become measured and full of strategy.
This is an opportunity! you mutter. Second opportunity. Opportunity to fix the "stalker" and "weird person" impression that might stick to you.
And this time, you have money in your pocket. You have capital to be the host.
You approach, slipping between two cloth merchants, and appear beside her.
"Hey," you greet, your voice trying to sound casual though your throat dry.
Ganyu jolts softly. She turns, her heterochromia eyes rounding seeing you. She seems shocked seeing you.
"What are you doing here, Miss Ganyu?" you ask, continuing the momentum.
Ganyu blinks, then her shoulders drop slightly, relaxing from her shock. She then tries to be calm and as friendly as possible answering your question.
"Browsing around," she replies briefly. She pauses, perhaps feeling impolite if not asking back, and continues, "What are you doing here, Sir?"
You smile. "After working so hard, of course need to refill energy," you answer, puffing your chest a bit, proud of your new "worker" status. "So, I'm browsing around now, perhaps finding a good place to eat. Well, basically I'm looking for food..."
You pause, glancing at Ganyu's reaction.
She just stares at you politely, listening, but seems less comfortable. There's anxiety in her eyes, as if she's counting seconds to escape back to her work.
You clear your throat. The fake courage you built from your daily wage pushes you to step further.
Maybe this is too much, but I think need to know the answer first... you mutter inwardly.
Better rejected now than made curious forever!
With a heart pounding hard, hitting your ribs like a trapped bird, you then ask, "If you don't mind, would you like to have dinner with me?"
That sentence slips out. Simple. Direct. A classic date invitation—or at least eating together. You even pat your pants pocket softly, giving a subconscious signal that you can pay.
Silence descends between you, separating you from the night market bustle.
Ganyu stays silent. She stares at you for a few moments, then her face turns into a complexity hard for you to read. In a short time, she tries to force a smile and shakes her head slowly.
"It seems today I can't," she says softly. "Thank you for inviting me."
"So..." your voice lowers.
You look disappointed. Your shoulders drop slightly. But in your most rational heart corner, you already expected this.
A national secretary having dinner with an amateur street vendor on the roadside? That's a fairy tale scenario, not reality.
So the rejection doesn't haunt you too much, it should.
"Alright," you say, forcing a steady smile. You don't want to look pathetic. "See you then."
You immediately leave the place. You turn your body, back to Ganyu, and walk quickly toward a food stall far away. You escape before embarrassment can chase you.
You leave, carrying your intact Mora pouch but a slightly cracked heart. Tonight's food might taste a bit bland.
However, you don't see what happens behind you.
Ganyu still stands there. She stares at your back moving away and disappearing in the crowd.
Then she looks guilty. Her hand squeezes the notebook she carries. She knows she just broke someone's simple hope.
For an Adeptus sworn to protect humans, hurting human feelings—no matter how small—leaves an uncomfortable feeling in her chest.
Ganyu then glances around. She realizes the atmosphere change around her.
The people in that night market, merchants and visitors who recognize her figure, are whispering.
"Isn't that Secretary Ganyu?" "Who was that foreign man daring to invite her to eat?" "So shameless... look at his clothes, he's just a rough laborer or small merchant." "Poor Miss Ganyu having to deal with someone like that."
Ganyu hears everything. Her Qilin ears catch every mockery frequency. And that makes her feel even more guilty.
She realizes that her rejection, plus her social status, has made you gossip material.
She bows her head, hiding her eyes behind her hair bangs.
She wants to chase, perhaps apologize or explain, but her feet stuck by norms and duties.
In the distance, you sit alone in a stall, ordering a large portion of noodles to drown your disappointment.
…
A/N: Long time no see. Sorry today I could only update the chapter because lately there were many IRL busynesses. But now I've overcome it so it's not too burdensome for me that I can't write anymore. Enjoy!