"Steward Meng, don't you think our Director looks like a resentful wife waiting for her husband to stumble home after fooling around?"
The young attendant girl hid behind the flowerbed, peeking out with bright, mischievous eyes while mercilessly teasing her own boss.
Steward Meng struggled to keep a straight face. Their Director was clearly worried sick, yet stubbornly pretending she didn't care at all—right now she was crouched under the eaves, glaring furiously at a line of ants marching across the tiles.
"Consultant Zhongli," the attendant whispered conspiratorially, "I told you, didn't I? The Director totally has a thing for that kid."
Unexpectedly, Zhongli was also present.
The two had invited him to "watch a show." He'd assumed they meant a performance by Yun Jin at Heyu Teahouse. Instead, it turned out to be a live drama starring the Director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor herself.
Even Zhongli, with his famously steady temperament, couldn't help feeling a bit helpless. He shook his head slightly.
"By common rational standards, I believe Director Hu is simply angry—angry that Mister Ji Ming rented property from Wangsheng without informing her."
"That's it?" the attendant blinked. "Why get angry over that? Didn't the Director say she hates Ji Ming the most? She said it herself."
Covering her mouth, the girl giggled. "Consultant Zhongli, what kind of position do you think the Director is angry from?"
Zhongli, however, refused to take the bait.
"As a friend," he replied calmly, "discovering that one is about to become neighbors and landlord without being told would naturally cause some irritation."
Steward Meng and the attendant exchanged looks.
The girl sighed dramatically. "Consultant Zhongli, you're so young, yet already this old-fashioned and unromantic. I'm suddenly worried about whether you'll ever get married."
Zhongli fell silent.
He simply stood there, watching Hu Tao glare at the ants with growing indignation.
From outside the courtyard came a familiar voice. The attendant and Steward Meng instantly grabbed Zhongli's sleeves and dragged him behind the flowerbed to hide.
Hu Tao heard it too. She stood up with a huff, turned toward the gate, ready to unleash her questions—
—and then froze.
Ji Ming staggered in, cheeks flushed crimson, clearly drunk off his mind.
"Hehehe… Hu Tao?"
Without acknowledging his silly grin, Hu Tao frowned and hurried over to support him.
"Where did you go?" she asked softly. "Why do you reek of alcohol?"
Behind the flowerbed, the attendant was vibrating with excitement, elbowing Zhongli nonstop.
"Look! LOOK! That's not friendship—that's a resentful wife finally catching her drunk husband! She's worried and forgot to even scold him! I ship this SO HARD—!!"
Zhongli, Wangsheng's long-suffering consultant, took critical emotional damage.
He quietly shifted aside. Of course, he knew Ji Ming's entire past. But as the Geo Archon worshipped by all of Liyue, Zhongli had no intention of interfering with mortal destinies.
From wandering the streets, to sinking into the underworld; from nine sworn brothers to standing alone—then, finally, forging countless bonds—
Zhongli had watched Ji Ming for ten years.
Those experiences were scars upon the boy's soul—and also treasures he would carry for life.
It was only a pity that old friends could not witness their child's growth.
…Or perhaps, if they were still alive, they would never have wished such hardships upon him.
To buy osmanthus wine and share it again…
But old friends—when would they ever meet again?
While Zhongli drifted into quiet reminiscence, the attendant and Steward Meng remained glued to the scene unfolding in the courtyard.
Hu Tao half-dragged, half-supported Ji Ming toward the main room. The furniture inside had been specially brought for him—she wasn't about to let this idiot sleep on the floor.
Ji Ming leaned heavily against her, his voice loose and soft.
"My… my friends came back, so I drank a bit more…"
"How much is 'a bit'?" Hu Tao asked.
"Eight… jars…"
Hu Tao's mouth fell open slightly, revealing a cute little fang.
"Eight jars?! You think you're immortal or something?!"
Ji Ming suddenly wriggled free. Hu Tao lost her grip, and the drunk promptly began swaying in place, clumsily throwing punches like some kind of drunken martial artist.
It… almost looked convincing.
Seeing he wasn't in danger of collapsing, Hu Tao stopped helping. She leaned against the doorframe, chin in hand, watching with amusement.
"Oh my~ Spin around, spin around. Not bad at all."
"Of course," Ji Ming slurred proudly. "I'm Liyue Harbor's greatest martial arts grandmaster… hic!"
"Yeah, yeah, keep bragging," Hu Tao snorted. "Men always get like this after drinking."
She helped him sit down, then perched on the edge of the bed, studying his eyes.
Those eyes seemed to carry endless stories.
Suddenly, Hu Tao remembered a sunny day eight years ago—when she'd gone to play with Xiangling under her grandfather's care. That was the first time she met Ji Ming.
That year, Hu Tao and Xiangling were eight. Ji Ming was already ten.
He'd just reunited with Xiangling—but only watched from afar, never joining them.
The Ji Ming of eight years ago was nothing like today. His eyes had been cold, distant. Hu Tao never forgot that look.
She had always believed he disliked her—because she was from Wangsheng, because she represented death and ill omen.
Tonight, she desperately wanted the truth.
If he truly disliked her, then why trick her later? Why deliberately rent property from Wangsheng now?
Drunk words spoke true. Hu Tao pressed her lips together and asked carefully:
"Ji Ming… why didn't you play with me back then?"
"Why would I?" he mumbled. "You… you were a proper young lady. Would you even need someone like me?"
He stared hazily into her plum-blossom eyes, then swallowed.
"If… if you didn't want me there, wouldn't I just look like a clown?"
Hu Tao froze.
She pointed at herself in disbelief. "You really thought that? You thought I was some high-and-mighty young lady?"
"Hu Tao, are you stupid?" Ji Ming muttered. "No wonder I managed to scam you. Should've scammed more Mora…"
That did it.
Hu Tao gritted her teeth and hurled a pillow straight into his face.
"You think I was actually fooled?! I just wanted an excuse to get close to you again! Don't flatter yourself!"
"Zzz…"
"Ji Ming? You jerk?!"
She dragged him onto the bed and dumped him there—thankfully, she'd bought a thick mattress.
Tucking the pillow back under his head and covering him with a blanket, Hu Tao stepped outside and shut the door.
Tomorrow. They'd talk tomorrow.
She still wanted to ask—
Three years ago, when her grandfather passed away… why did fifteen-year-old Ji Ming secretly step in to teach those foul-mouthed people a lesson?
They'd had no ties at all.
As she turned to leave, Hu Tao stopped short.
She flushed slightly, glaring at the two figures in the courtyard.
"What are you two doing here?"
Zhongli had already left—Heyu Teahouse was still open, and if he hurried, he might catch Yun Jin's performance.
The attendant pounced forward, eyes sparkling.
"Director! Director! What were you and Ji Ming doing inside just now?!"
"Just chatting," Hu Tao replied stiffly. "He's drunk. If you're worried, go help him clean up."
"Really? Then I'm going in—thank you for the blessing!"
Hu Tao's eyes widened. "Hey—HEY—are you serious?! I'll dock your pay!"
The attendant burst out laughing. "Just kidding~ Let Steward Meng handle it."
Hu Tao finally relaxed. She glanced at Steward Meng.
"Old Meng, I'll leave it to you."
Steward Meng said nothing—only smiled knowingly.
Enemies in a past life, lovers in this one.
He approved of this match very much.
…Though, since Director Hu was only sixteen, perhaps it'd be best to wait a couple more years.
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