#stcrfeesh; series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stcrfeesh · 1 year

Text

off the precipice (懸崖勒馬)

8: Your Loyal Knight

READER DISCRETION IS STRONLGLY ADVSIED; Please read the masterlist first before proceeding.

Childe could immediately tell that something was not right. He could hear the nib of his pen scratch loudly—way too loudly for his own liking—against the paper as he wrote. The beating of his heart was louder than the clock’s pendulum ticking every second; like blood was pounding in his ear, messing with his line of thoughts.

Before him on the desk was a half-baked letter he’s addressed to Morepesok, and no matter how much Childe wanted to write more, all he could focus on were the sounds that made peaceful quiet too loud. The silence was noisier than the bustling road outside, and Childe knew then that something was absolutely wrong.

He didn’t know what was worse, though. Knowing exactly what was wrong that made it feel like the balance on the scales was suddenly tipped off, or not being able to do anything about it despite knowing. On the unbalanced scales, there was a truth everyone did not seem to want to admit—the quarters felt emptier without Tomo being the light of the party.

Childe quickly shakes his head, attempting to dissolve all thoughts that threatened to occupy his mind. Now was not the time. So, with furrowed brows and clenched teeth, Childe goes back to writing his letter. In careful strokes and neat letters, he writes his words in Snezhnayan.

He checks the spelling once, twice, and then one last time. He glances at the name the letter was addressed to, Dearest Tonia.

He lets out a soft chuckle. The last time he wrote his sister’s name wrong, her reply came in three sheets of paper, and one of them was dedicated to scolding him. Children were petty—more so Snezhnayan children.

Living in a foreign country was as funny as much as it had been odd to him. Even with Lumine speaking to him in Snezhnayan all the time, he still finds himself forgetting how to write certain words in the language of his own motherland. Perhaps that’s what happens when everyone else around him spoke in a foreign tongue, and he could do nothing but imitate them.

The cold of winter is beginning to embrace Liyue Harbour, he writes finally as he remembers how to spell Liyue Harbour in Snezhnayan. But tell mother to worry not, for even when the snow turns the glimmering city of Liyue into a blanket of white, the south wind still blows warmly like the hearth back home.

Liyue’s winters were cold but not as cold as he remembers them back home. It does not snow in the harbour city as much as it did in the countryside, or as much as it did in Snezhnaya. Winter never ends in the nation of the north. Snow covers the roof of his childhood home and the barks of the trees in the woods; ice glazes over the lakes his father used to take him fishing to. Winter was the only season the Snezhnayans knew of.

They did not know of the lush green grass in spring, the shining blue of the sea in the summer, and the deep reds and oranges of fallen leaves in autumn. At that very moment, Childe thinks he was very lucky to be in Liyue, though he was a long, long way from home. To be able to see a myriad—a burst of colours in a foreign country, to be able to bask in warmth during the winters… it was nice, and it was something he could never do in Snezhnaya.

He remembers the first time he and the twins went back to visit Snezhnaya. Teucer had begged Childe to bring him back to Liyue, to which, of course, he said no—even when he really wanted to take his little brother for an overseas trip—lest his mother hit him with a wooden spatula. Had it not been for Lumine and Aether changing the subject, Childe was certain that he would’ve made Teucer cry.

He smiles fondly at the memory before he goes back to writing the last sentences of his letter.

When you receive this letter, I would have already gone hiking for the first time in Liyue. I’ll be sure to tell you all about that too. Remember not to smash the plates to not anger mother, alright? Enclosed with this letter would be a crate of gifts for everyone from Liyue. I hope the gifts will be to your liking.

Please let Teucer and Anthon know that I’ll visit again soon. I promise.

You know how I always keep my promises. I’ll see you soon.

Yours faithfully,

Your loyal knight

Childe folds the paper into three and slides it into an envelope before sealing it off and tucking it into the inside pockets of his vest.

He stands to leave the quarters, thinking if he sent the package now, his family would receive it as soon as the following week arrives. But before he could even take a step out of the door, a voice calls out to him. His lips twitch into a frown.

“Where are you going?” He turns around to see Rosalyne taking her gloves off and tossing them on the coffee table.

“It’s none of your business,” Childe says with a roll of his eyes. Rosalyne smirks at him, and he couldn’t help but clench his fists at the sight.

“No need to be so secretive,” Rosalyne tells him as if he were a child being gently scolded by his parents. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought that you were going out to collude with our enemies.”

Childe nods at her dress. Rosalyne looked as though she had just been out for a meeting, she was in a formal puff-sleeved dress and her hair done to the nines. Not a normal choice of attire at ten in the morning.

He witches to Snezhnayan and speaks in a low whisper, “I could say the same for you, you know?” He pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing at her. “Where have you been?”

Rosalyne was just like Tomo and Kazuha; all three of them were defectors of their respective agencies that were now working for the Ān bù. But unlike the other two, Rosalyne defected from not one but two nations. First Mondstadt and then Snezhnaya. Now she was here in Liyue.

How she was still alive, Childe did not know. Why she was defecting from nations though, he was even more in the dark about it. Even as a high-ranking operative, he still wasn’t privy to most things in the Ān bù. Regardless of how she did it, kudos to her for making it out alive, though. Not many could run away from Snezhnaya.

Rosalyne scoffs. She does not reply to him in Snezhnayan, still opting to speak in Liyuen. “I can have a social life too, you know? Just because I’m an operative doesn’t mean I can’t go out and play mahjong with the ladies.”

Oh, Childe thinks, his mind now blank. Okay.

“Whatever,” He replies harshly in Liyuen, “What do you want?”

It wasn’t that he hated Rosalyne—No, actually, he did, in fact, hate Rosalyne. Her beliefs never seemed to align with his own, and more often than not, her beliefs clashed with his. As much as he disliked working with the woman—let alone living under the same roof as her, Childe had no other choice but to suck it up and pretend like he harboured no distaste.

Which, unfortunately for him, seemed to be harder and harder to do every passing day.

“Straight to the point, I see. That’s rather admirable,” Rosalyne walks towards him; her heels clacked sharply against the tiles, making Childe’s ears ring. “Here, read it.”

She hands him a small piece of coloured cardboard. He eyes it carefully for a short moment. It was an invitation to… a bar opening? Tiānshǐ de Kuìzèng. The name sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t tell how or why. He looks back at her, “What is this?”

“As your eyes can see, it’s an invitation. Angel’s Share is opening a branch here in Liyue. I asked Yelan if she could come with me, but she’s already busy on that day.”

Of course, he thinks to himself. They’d use the Liyuen translation when opening up a branch here. They were in Liyue after all.

“Angel’s Share,” Childe whispers to himself in Mond. He’s been there before, a few years ago with Tomo for an assignment. It was a famous bar in Mondstadt, known for its unique blend of Dandelion Wine. “What do you want me to do with this information?”

“The Qixing’s suspecting that the Ordo Favonius is planting spies in Liyue,” Rosalyne settles down on the couch and pours herself a cup of tea. “This branch of Angel’s Share is a great starting point to snuff them all out.”

“Mondstadt?” Childe asks in disbelief. To him, it seems so unlikely that the nation would plant spies in an allied country. “No, that’s not possible. Why would they even plant spies in Liyue?”

“You tell me, genius,” Rosalyne says sarcastically. “We’re one more political conflict away from another Teyvatian war. Mondstadt can’t trust anyone—not even Liyue, their closest allies. The same goes for us too, actually. We can’t trust anyone either.”

Childe is quiet for a moment as his mind begins to race. He tries to recall anything suspicious from all the Mond patrons the Northland Palace would welcome every night—every conversation he’s eavesdropped on plays back in his mind like a rolling film, but to no avail, Childe finds nothing out of place. He knew he wouldn’t, but it still sucked. He was a specially trained and high-ranking spy, and not being able to remember anything bruised his ego just a little bit.

“So?” Rosalyne’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Could you accompany me to the opening? Unless, of course, you’re going on a date with that Mr. Zhongli of yours… How did your date go anyway?”

“Now that’s really none of your business, Rosalyne,”

“You got stood up, didn’t you? Oh! No, you chickened out at the last minute? You didn’t have a shift that night, it can’t be because you were too busy to go.”

Childe clenches his fist tightly. He could take whatever jab Rosalyne would send him, but this time was different. This wasn’t a laughing matter, not when—

“Oops,” She laughs. “I struck a nerve, huh? I was simply jesting. I didn’t know Snezhnayans had short tempers.” At her taunts, Childe finally snaps, “Would you please shut up for a moment? I didn’t want to go. Especially not after what happened. How much of a dick do you think I am that I’d still go out to have fun with a guy I like after a coMr.ade died?”

When he calmed down a bit, his tone turned sombre, “Besides, something came up for Mr. Zhongli that day too. He had to bail out of our date to deal with it.”

“Huh,” Rosalyne hums mockingly. If that was even possible. Knowing her, it probably was and Childe despised it.

If Childe were being honest, he was sad that he never got to go out on a date with the man, but he was even sadder that the reason he had to make a rain checkwas because of something like… this.

As an operative, Childe had long since expected that death was inevitable, whether it was his own death or a friend’s. It was a dangerous field of work; someone was bound to die, one way or another. He’s seen death from the sidelines, and he’s seen death up close as the person to deliver it. And yet, despite it all, nothing came close to preparing him—or anyone in the Northland Ring—for such a tragedy.

“I have other things to do, find someone else,” Childe says quietly as he walks out of the room. He’ll probably worry about pissing Rosalyne off again some other time when he’s cooled off. For now, he needed a breather.

He desperately needed a walk to clear his thoughts, and his mind. But he doesn't get to do that. It was as if the fates were against him doing so. Did the world truly want to ground him forever? Perhaps, perhaps not. Either way, he lets out a quiet groan when he passes by Yelan in the hallway, and she stops him in his tracks.

“Tartaglia,” She calls. “I was just about to ask you to come by my office.”

Childe raises a brow, “You’ve got to stop calling me by my codename. I’ve already told you before, Childe would do. Holy fuck, it sounds so intimidating for no reason. I’d shit my pants if I weren’t already built like a soldier.”

“Exactly,” Yelan says, a ghost of a smile appearing on her face. “Liyue might be the most progressive out of all the nations, but it still runs on the foundations of patriarchy. When you’re a woman in a patriarchal world, you’ve got to do what you have to do to get men to fear you.”

“Okay…” He shudders at her words, “Anyway, did you need something? I was just about to stop by the post office.”

“Is it urgent?” Yelan asks him, her tone now more… friendly? It probably wasn’t, and he was just becoming delusional. “I have some things I need to discuss with you, but this can wait if you have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“But is it urgent?” Childe throws back his superior’s own question cheekily. He realises it was a bad idea when she narrows her eyes at him. He chuckles apologetically, scratching the nape of his neck. “Sorry. I, uh… I can run my errands later. What do you need to talk about?”

Yelan rolls her eyes, shoving her hands in the pockets of her qípáo, “It is urgent, yes, but it can wait a few more hours if need be.”

“Ha?” Childe lets out the syllable before he could even stop himself. “I mean—If it’s urgent, then I can’t possibly ask you to wait? I’m guessing it has to do with work… What is it about anyway?”

Yelan nods her head towards the hallway, and gestures for Childe to follow her. “It’s best if we discuss this privately.”

Childe was not given room to refuse—not that he would refuse to follow her. He wanted to see the sun rise again tomorrow, he couldn’t afford to piss Yelan off again. So, he follows her quietly into her office.

“Shut the door please,” Yelan tells him, and Childe does as he’s told.

He watches his superior settle down behind her desk. In an effort to avoid her gaze—because truth be told, he was terrified of her. Yelan was kind to everyone in the Rings, and she was generally a nice person, yes, but that was exactly his problem. He didn’t know what she was capable of if he accidentally went a step too far and she snaps.

“You’re not just going to stand there the entire time, are you?” She sighs, gestures for the seat in front of the desk, and Childe follows.

“So…” Childe starts. “What was it you wanted to discuss with me?”

“What do you know about Khaenri’ah?”

Childe wanted to flinch, but he tells himself not to. He stares at Yelan as if she had sprouted another head, and he remains uncharacteristically silent—too silent. He racks his brain for an instance when he fuck up. A specific time that will make Yelan think that he’s someone who committed treason. If he gets implicated, then it would be over for him. He wasn’t just going to be fed to the vishaps if he does, and that was relatively better than the punishment served to traitors.

His thoughts come to a stop. He hasn’t been messing around—minus the part where he blew up a Natlanese official’s car a few days ago, but that was it. He hadn’t been messing around to get himself into more trouble.

He realises he’s been silent for far too long, so he clears his throat and lets out a chuckle, “I mean, it used to be one of Teyvat’s richest nations, right? But it fell many years ago… Why are you asking me this?”

“Why do you sound so defensive?” Yelan shoots back.

“No, I don’t?”

“You do,” Yelan says. “What did you do this time?”

Childe raises his hands to show surrender, “I promise I didn’t do anything!”

He had rushed his words out as if he was being chased down by a Rishboland Tiger. Except it wasn’t a Rishboland Tiger chasing him down. It was a maybe, possibly, an angry Yelan.

“Then why are you so defensive?”

“Because!” Childe begins, letting out a heavy sigh. “I pissed you off the other day, right? I’m sorry about that, by the way. I really am—but that’s why I sound kinda defensive. I thought you were testing me or something. And if I failed, you’d send me to the vishaps.”

Yelan raises her brow, and Childe holds his breath; for a moment, and then two—Oh shit, fuck. Oh, fucking shit. He’s probably fucked up. Oh fuck. When his superior starts laughing, however, Childe was the one to raise his brow now. What in the fuck?

“What’s so funny?” He asks.

“We don’t feed people to vishaps,” Yelan tries to say in between her laughs. A short while later, she recomposes herself. “Vishaps eat precious rocks and crystals, not… other living things.”

“They don’t? Oh—they don’t. Yes, they don’t.”

“Besides,” Yelan speaks again, her face now serious. “Who says I’m testing you? That’s not what I’m asking you that question for.”

Childe leans in closer, now intrigued, “Oh, okay. But why were you asking me?”

“It’s for a new assignment.” Yelan pulls out a folder from her drawer and flips through it, “And it has something to do with the Khaenri’ahns. I just wanted to know how much you knew about them.”

When Childe hears her words, he feels heat rise up to his cheeks, then to his ears. He hopes under the dim lights of her office, she wouldn’t see how red he was staring to become.

Embarrassing, he thinks to himself. That was embarrassing.

“I… see,” Childe nods. “Why me again?”

“Beidou thinks you’re fit for the role.” Yelan hands him the folder. “Read the case in your spare time, you’ll need to be very familiar with it.”

When he receives the folder, he immediately begins to skim through the case file—it was about the murders happening around Liyue the past few months.

“We have a lead on these murders,” Yelan starts to explain. “Someone else is already assigned to work on the root case, and we’re doing clean-up.”

“We’re working together? Just us two?”

“No, there will be four of us doing the sweeping. Two from ours and two from theirs.”

“Four?”

Yelan nods and she continues, “We’ll start arresting those assholes circulating the enchanted chains, but we can’t arrest them on grounds of the murders. We’ll jeopardise the entire operation. We’re arresting them for fund embezzlement.”

Childe wasn’t exactly listening to her briefing—his brain was already stuck on the word four. How dangerous was it that they needed four operatives working on the case? He wonders then if he could trust the other two assigned to work with them.

He never agrees with anything Rosalyne says, but this time around, she was right. They didn’t know if they could trust even their closest allies. Everyone was an enemy until proven otherwise.

“Who’s working with us?” He asks after she speaks.

“As I’ve said, both of us are already assigned to this, then there’s two of them from the Moons,” Yelan pauses, “You’ve actually met one of them—Zhongli?”

Childe’s eyes widen, “What?”

“You already know him, right? Consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor—one of our fronts.”

Childe was rendered speechless. Mr. Zhongli was a spy just like him. He’s been fancying a spy—an operative from the other side. Did the man already know about his affiliation with the Rings?

What the fuck.

He’d rather die than ever admit it out loud, but Rosalyne was still right. They—He couldn’t just trust anyone. Nothing was as it seemed, especially as an operative.

Hello! In truth, I had a dream about uploading this chapter so I thought I did. Turns out I didn't, so here I am again with a late-ish update. There are two more chapters left for the first arc, then we'll be moving on to the second (which, I kinda haven't written). I didn't think I'd still be writing this fic, honestly, but when the brain rot is real, then it is real.

I should also mention that while I'm writing this fic, I'm also looking into expanding my Undercover Teyvat Universe! I've began writing some of them, and I've already began to brainstorm for the others. Though, one thing is for certain—you'll be getting more of Scaramouche, Kazuha, Childe, and Zhongli... and some more other self-indulgent things hehehe.

Oh, and! If you're still here with me, then thank you so much for reading! Your comments, kudos, reblogs, and likes are what keep me motivated to continue writing! I hope you look forward for more!

PS. I'm currently rewriting the previous chapters because of my forgetful ass. I kinda forgot about my tenses. HAHAHAHA craft.

MASTERLIST | ← Previous | Next →

#stcrfeesh; undercover teyvat #stcrfeesh; series #off the precipice #懸崖勒馬 #genshin impact fanfic #xiao x lumine #xiao x reader #xiao x traveler #xiao x traveler!reader #genshin impact spy au #angst #fluff #romance

6 notes · View notes

stcrfeesh · 1 year

Text

off the precipice (懸崖勒馬)

1: Countryman's Forgotten Country

READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED; Please read the masterlist first before proceeding.

There were invisible lines that divided the city of Liyue into two: the Northland Ring territories and the Glazed Moon jurisdictions.

It wasn’t that the city was divided into two halves. Rather, it was that everything—every building, phone booth, and street lamp—in all parts of the city were most likely under the rule of either one of the gangs.

Each nook and cranny was either a territory of the Northland Rings or under the jurisdiction of the Glazed Moons. This division was even more evident in the higher-class areas of the harbour city.

The glimmering bars and casinos of Yujing Terrace weren’t just bars and casinos—they weren’t mere entertainment establishments the rich would frequent to blow their money. Every neon sign that lit up the double doors of those places was—in one way or another—owned by the gangs. And, by extension, they would own the entire place too.

Except for one.

The Abyssossque was touched by neither gang. Let alone the Liyuen government. A newly-opened foreign nightclub in the richer districts, owned by some unnamed foreign billionaire. To tourists and the citizens of Liyue alike, it was most known for its architectural glamour, its extravagant performances, and its fine vintage alcohol.

But to people like Lumine Viatrovna, the nightclub was the heart of all foreign crime. From corrupt Fontainiene officials laundering money to the Snezhnayans’ illegal drug dealing—you name it all.

Lumine stood from the balcony of the second floor. It overlooked the wrinkled old patrons spectating around the roulette tables from below. She held on tighter to the woollen shawl wrapped around her shoulders as she made a quick survey of the area.

Despite the grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the club was still dimly lit. She couldn't see any other details that were of note. All she could see were the two exit points: one up front and one just behind the grand stage, and that information wasn’t even helpful.

“You seem to be taking longer than usual.”

Lumine did not flinch at the sudden sound—the sudden voice. She remained as calm as she had been the entire time and ignored the voice as though it hadn’t even spoken to her at all. She made one last sweep of the floor below before turning around.

“You can’t just ignore your handler, you know,” The voice said again, this time tauntingly. Lumine only let out a small sigh before she headed for the stairs.

“Of course I can,” She answered nonchalantly. If anyone were to see her, they would’ve immediately thought that she had a couple of screws loose. A pretty lady all alone, talking to herself. That was a behaviour unheard of.

The voice scoffed at her reply before speaking once more, “I’ll put you in a shitty operation next; let’s see how long you can last without me.”

"Oh, I'll do just fine. Trust me." Lumine rolled her eyes. She had always gone solo on operations; her handler’s empty threat did absolutely nothing.

Her lips formed a thin line when she finally reached the last steps of the stairs: “I’ve got eyes on the target—and please, stop talking for a second. It’s weird. It’s like you’re speaking in my head.”

She wanted to turn off her Bàojī * so bad, but she couldn’t. So, Lumine cursed ancient technology and its modern advancements instead.

Long ago, the nation of Sumeru had successfully created technology that delivered information at lightning speed. The people of the nation only needed to ask, and knowledge was immediately served on a silver platter for them to consume.

Lumine remembers reading about them in an old history book—they had called them Akasha Terminals. Though it was proven useful for a long time, conflict arose within the nation because of the technology, and the use of Akasha Terminals was put to a halt.

Centuries later, the Liyue Qixing invested money in a replica of the ancient Sumerian system. The device followed the same technology, but they had found a different purpose for it. So, instead of a portable library, it had been fashioned for encrypted correspondence. It was confidential technology that only the covert divisions of the Qixing were privy to—and only they were able to use it.

They called it the Qíngbào ěrjī, intelligence receiver, which they then shortened to Bàojī.

The voice from her Bàojī laughed at her sarcastically. “Because I am,” It said. “Now, get to work, Aster. We need that file.”

Lumine nodded to herself as she subtly followed a man clad in blue. She readjusted her gloves as she tapped the jewelled hairpin on her head and watched the man enter a hallway. But just before she was able to pursue her target any further, she bumped into a body.

Lumine does not fall from the impact, courtesy of two arms that steadied her: “Oops, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” She looked up to see a man wearing an eyepatch, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

She stared up at the man, her eyes darting towards the hallway—it was deserted. She lost her target. With a clenched jaw, she turned her attention back to the man whose arms were still on her: “Yes—yes, I’m okay. Thank you.”

The man finally let go of her: “Sorry. You seem like you’ve got somewhere else to be. I won’t keep you here any longer.” Lumine muttered a final thank you, giving the man a nod.

She made a beeline for the hallway entrance, readjusting the skirts of her qípáo before she continued on. When she entered, the first thing she noticed were the doors. The entire hallway was lined with doors.

“Dermo,” * She muttered the Snezhnahan curse to herself. How in Teyvat was she supposed to know which door was the right one?

“I lost him,” Lumine said, letting out another curse after. “I don’t know which door he entered.”

“Well, that’s shit,” Her handler replied. “There should be a guestbook log by the reception table, but this is The Abyssosque we’re talking about.”

“It’s not under the Qixing’s control; I can’t move freely. I know,” Lumine supplied for her handler.

There was a brief pause. Her handler did not retort back, and for a moment, Lumine thought her Bàojī was broken.

“Okay—” Her handler’s voice came back, and she let out a breath of relief. “Cliffbreaker’s on it. And... our Mr. Alexeev should be in VIP room four.”

Konstantin Alexeev. A Snezhnayan higher-up official by day and a crime lord by night

Lumine hated men like him—people who posed and waved to the public, promising them a better country, only to singlehandedly cause their nation to crumble behind closed doors in exchange for a few million mora.

Coincidentally, Alexeev was also the biggest investor in The Abyssosque, which was the foreign nightclub Liyuen authorities couldn’t manage to infiltrate for months. And fortunately for Lumine, the likes of him were the very same people that would switch lanes in a heartbeat when bribed with the right price.

People like him deserved to die.

Lumine knocked on the door, opening it wide enough for her to poke her head in. There, she spots Mr. Alexeev, sitting cross-legged by a couch with a glass of what seemed to be fire water in hand. She allowed herself entry, flashing him a smile with her red-stained lips.

“Good evening,” She greeted him, gently shutting the door behind her. “Are you expecting any company tonight?”

“Are you the girl Dmitri has sent?” He asked, his Snezhnayan accent thick on his tongue. She thinks for a split second. This was way easier than she had thought.

When Lumine nodded, Mr. Alexeev gives her a once-over before grinning. There was a certain glint in the man’s eye, and it made Lumine’s blood boil like tea in a screeching teapot on the stove. She was revolted by him.

He motioned for her to come close, patting the space beside him, “It’s alright, kotonok,* I don’t bite.”

Lumine wanted nothing more than to spit at him, and she would have, had it not been for her handler speaking to her in her head, “Secure the file first before you do anything rash.”

So instead of all the vile things she could do to him, Lumine chose to just follow what the man said and settle down beside him. As all rich scoundrels do, the moment she sat beside him, his hand found its way to her knees. If she had been clenching her fists, then Mr. Alexeev was none the wiser, because his eyes were too busy roaming elsewhere.

Disgusting.

“You don’t seem like you’re from Liyue,” He commented, a brow raised as he did so. “Where could you be from, kotonok? Fontaine, perhaps?”

Lumine forced out a giggle, “Think a little bit closer to home, my lord.”

“Oh? Mondstadt, then? It must be Mondstadt.”

While Mr. Alexeev was preoccupied with playing guess-the-answer, Lumine had already carefully inspected the room. It was supposed to be somewhere nearby—a white folder with the Snezhnayan coat of arms stamped on it.

She looked back at him and smiled sweetly, “Apologies, I suppose I should have said think of home instead.”

He paused for a moment to think, his brows knitting together. Suddenly, his eyes lit up in recognition. He laughed amusedly, “I didn’t think Dmitri would find me someone from my homeland.”

“Snezhnaya had no tears left to cry for people like me, and so I found myself building a new life here in Liyue.” She said, leaning further back into the couch, trying to see if the file was anywhere on him. “Perhaps it was fate that had us meet in such circumstances, my lord.”

Mr. Alexeev set his glass of fire water down, his other hand now on her arms.

Do not flinch, Lumine told herself. Do not flinch, or this whole thing will fall.

“I should at least know your name, yes?” He insisted, the same revolting grin on his face. “I do have every intention to compensate you handsomely.”

“Alexandra,” Lumine answered quickly, remembering the name of a Snezhnayan queen of old. “Alexandra Romanova.”

“Miss Alexandra, what a beautiful name,” He said, and it takes every part of her not to let out a snort.

Mr. Alexeev scooted inappropriately closer to her. Close enough that she was able to get a whiff of the lingering scent of alcohol on his breath. From the man’s position, she finally spots a folder tucked between his back and the backrest of the couch.

A white folder with the Snezhnayan coat of arms. Bingo.

Mr. Alexeev’s movements came to a halt when Lumine swung her arm, her palm coming into contact with the man’s face. The sound of her slap resounded in the room, and Mr. Alexeev moved away, glaring daggers at her.

“I’m so sorry,” Lumine apologised, though she did not actually mean it. It felt good to put someone like him in his place. Lumine immediately stands away from the couch and says, “I just got nervous. I’m not used to this; I’m so very sorry.”

He took a swig from his glass of firewater before he stood from his seat, a hand on his reddening cheek, Lumine’s palm mark still visible. He sneered, “Ty suka—You fucking bitch.” *

He made his way towards her, grabbing her wrist. He then made a quick switch to his mother tongue, “You’ll be accepting payment and yet you dare raise a hand on me? Do you even know who I fucking am?”

His grip on her wrist is tight, and Lumine was certain she would end up bruised after all this. She looked at him in fear, then indifference, and finally in amusement. The file was free for her to take, and she was finally free to do whatever she wanted.

In the city of Liyue, there were two rules the people must strictly follow—rules set by the Northland Rings and the Glazed Moons.

One, you absolutely saw nothing happen. You are an unknowing passerby; you did not see anything. Two, you do not stick your nose in places you do not want people to find your body in. What the gangs do has nothing to do with you.

Within the gangs, however, there was a third rule: During operations, leave no enemy of the state standing.

“Oh dear,” She tilted her head to the side, “This is not very gentlemanly of you, my lord.”

With her free hand, she patted her thigh, moving the slit of her qípáo aside to retrieve a silver dagger from its holster. She aimed it at him: “Might I suggest that you unhand me this instant, Mr. Alexeev? It would do you a world of good.”

At the sight of her weapon, Mr. Alexeev did as he was told. He took several paces away from her, staggering in his steps. “What—who are you?” He asked, eyes frantic.

She does not answer immediately, only giving him a nonchalant shrug, “A woman must not reveal all her secrets, but I suppose I can let you in on this one. Let’s just say I’m a fellow countryman who has forgotten their homeland…” *

Mr. Alexeev’s eyes grow wide at her words. “I am a Snezhnayan official! You cannot touch me—I have diplomatic immunity!”

Lumine aimed the dagger right at him. Or at least, he thought it was aimed at him.

When she finally threw the dragger, it made a loud thud as it hit the wall beside him—missing his face by only a single strand of hair. She smiled, pulling her hairpin out and allowing her hair to fall freely down her shoulders. “I promise this won’t hurt.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” He was pale in fear when he asked. “Don’t you dare take a step closer... or I-I will make sure to ruin your life! I am Konstantin Alexeev! Do you not know who I am!?”

Lumine walked towards him, her hairpin in her hand. “Oh? That’s not what you wanted mere minutes ago,” She taunted, her face now dangerously close to his. She brings the pin to his neck, ever so gently sliding it across. It does not draw blood, and Lumine chuckles. “See? I've already told you, haven’t I? It won’t hurt.”

Mr. Alexeev stares at her in bewilderment before he brings his hands to his throat. He struggles to breathe.

“What did you do to me?” He asked, trying not to choke on his own words.

“I only gave you what you deserved.” Lumine put her hair back up into a bun, securing it with the same jewelled hairpin used to put him to eternal sleep.

She watched him fall to his knees, and she did nothing more than shrug at him. She stepped over his fallen body, reaching over to take the folder from the couch, before she walked towards the wall to pull her dagger out.

Konstantine Alexeev spent the next three minutes twitching on the floor, frothing at his mouth.

Before he takes his last breath, Lumine crouched down and whispered to him, “Good night, Mr. Alexeev.”

I may or may not have forgotten to mention that Lumine uses a Snezhnayan surname for this fic...

情報耳機 (Qíngbào ěrjī), shortened to 報機 (Bàojī) is basically just an earpiece except you hear the voices in your head.

Dermo is a Romanised word that means Shit in Russian.

Kotonok is a Romanised word that means Kitten in Russian.

Ty suka is a Romanised phrase that means You bitch in Russian.

World Quest Spoiler! In the Hidden Inazuma World Quest "Shuumatsuban Operations", the phrase "Fellow countrymen who have forgotten their homeland" is a phrase used by Snezhnayan spies to identify one another.

MASTERLIST | ← Previous | Next →

#stcrfeesh; series #stcrfeesh; undercover teyvat #off the precipice #懸崖勒馬 #xiao x lumine #xiao x reader #xiao x traveler #xiao x traveler!reader #genshin impact spy au #angst #fluff #spy au

2 notes · View notes

stcrfeesh · 1 year

Text

off the precipice (懸崖勒馬)

prologue

READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED; Please read the masterlist first before proceeding.

In Liyue, no one dares to hike up the mountains. It did not matter either how many people would hike up, because no one comes back down alive.

Old legends tell a tale of the mighty adepti that guarded the sacred grounds of Mount Tianheng, protecting the humans that lived on the mountain's foot. The mountain was known for its overwhelming spirit energy, and with such power, malicious beings would lurk in the dark, waiting—waiting for the next soul it shall trick and devour.

But old legends will only remain as old legends. In an era led by mortals, there are no guardian adepti. There were only streetlamps lining the streets, lighting up the harbour city at night and protecting the people from the horrors of the dark… but the streetlamps were not guardians. They were a false assurance of safety.

From the peaks of Mount Tianheng, a monster finally awakens. Its eyes snap open, and in place of the doors to its soul are webs of bloody threads. The ground crunches beneath its feet, and it flexes its limbs—observing, waiting, and biding its time before it moves again. When it turns its head to watch the city below, it makes an inhumane sound, like bones cracking amid distorted and pained growls.

The monster breathes through its teeth as though it were a hissing viper, and then it pounces off the mountains and into the howling night of the city. It hides in plain sight, jumping from one roof to another, crushing the bulbs of all the streetlamps it passes by in its palms, leaving shards of glass and darkness behind.

Unprotected by either lights or guardian adepti, the monster freely stalks the pavement, searching for its next victim—the next sinner it shall deliver judgement to. It does not move, not just yet, and the city continues to slumber in peace.

No one hangs around the lower-class district of the city in the dead of the night—they’d much rather go for the fancy bars in Feiyun Slope or the sparkling casinos in Yujing Terrace. No normal person goes there.

Not unless it was for business. Two men were seen coming out of Yanshang Teahouse, stumbling and wobbling, seeming to have had a little too much to drink for the night. They had loudly slammed the teahouse’s door shut, their conversation disrupting the quiet in Chihu Rock.

“I’ve already told ya not to gamble it all, didn’t I?” The shorter of the two men grumbled out loud. “The fuck’s goin’ on in that head of yours, huh? You should know how shit works in that place. That whore’s unbeatable.”

“I was close ‘ta winnin’ already!” The taller of the two protested in a slur, dragging his feet on the ground. “If it weren’t for one of those rich assholes, we could’ve been walkin’ away with a shitton o’ money right now.”

The taller man stopped in his tracks; he turned back in the direction of the teahouse and pulled out a gun. “Y’know what? I’m gonna show ‘em—I’m gonna show ‘em who should run these fuckin’ streets.”

“Would ya fuckin’ cut it out?” The shorter man called back. “Ya ain’t gonna get shit from folks like ‘em. They’re the predators of this shithole. Whatever they want, goes. They ain’t gonna be afraid of some measly gun.”

Before the taller man could even move a single step back, he stopped abruptly—then he fell to the ground. The shorter man stared at his companion’s fallen figure, annoyance written on his face. “What the fuck are you doin’ now?”

As he made his way to his companion, planning to drag him back home, he noticed something red on the ground. Blood begins to pool where his companion’s head was supposed to be.

“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself. Shock, disbelief—fear. Those were the emotions on his face as he looked around him. He does not see it yet, but he hears it. Loud and clear. A hissing sound, the sound of breaking bones, then the distorted growl. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The short man ran, but he stumbled and fell onto his feet. His head and heart were pounding, like the drums that banged during the Lantern Rite celebration. He gets back onto his feet, desperate to get away. He does not look back, and that—that was his biggest mistake.

The monster is right at his tail, a mere few feet away from him. It pursued him like a predator would with its prey. In this case, the monster was a predator, and the man was the poor, poor prey. The man still ran. Faster than he’s ever had to in his life.

“Fuckin’ leave me alone, you freak!” He shouted as he dashed for the alleys. The deeper into the alley he goes, the darker it gets. He couldn’t see what was in front of him, oblivious to the nearing wall—a dead end.

The man was not given time to realise his mistake, nor was he given the chance to turn around. He did not look back. He only ran blindly and aimlessly, which led to his downfall. He was long gone before anyone could hear his screams and cries for help. All that was left was a headless body and writing in blood on the wall.

Haec urbs cadet. This city will fall.

MASTERLIST | Next →

#stcrfeesh; series #stcrfeesh; undercover teyvat #off the precipice #懸崖勒馬 #xiao x lumine #xiao x reader #xiao x traveler #xiao x traveler!reader #genshin impact spy au #angst #fluff #spy au

3 notes · View notes