Hu Tao sat quietly on the railing, absorbed in a book, while the young undertaker girl hadn't had a single spare moment to read.
Just like Master Zhongli, many of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's employees had come to wait first thing in the morning.
She'd been handing out books this whole time, and even now hadn't managed to find a chance to read Fang Qiu's book.
"Many thanks, miss."
Old Meng took the book, voiced his thanks, and turned to leave.
As he walked, he gazed at the cover of The Forest of Fireflies' Light in his hands, feeling a little stirred.
This Miss Fang Qiu had truly come so very far.
At first, when Director Hu had forced him to read the stories and would constantly quiz him on his impressions afterward, it had been nothing short of torture.
Thankfully, treating it as just another part of the job had made it a good deal less painful.
But ever since that book, Your Lie in April, Miss Fang Qiu seemed to have undergone a complete metamorphosis.
Each book was better than the last.
And he himself had gone from initial resistance to being utterly, helplessly hooked.
Watching Old Meng's retreating figure, the young undertaker girl turned to look at Hu Tao, who sat on the stone railing not far away.
A cold, crisp wind blew past, and the young undertaker girl instinctively shrank into herself.
"Looks like it's going to rain."
The young undertaker girl looked up at the sky. The heavens over Liyue were one vast sheet of gloom.
The winter rains were drawing near.
She lowered her gaze to the Director, who sat upon the stone railing, the twin ponytails draped down her back drifting gently in the wind.
For some reason, there was a sorrow to the Director's silhouette, like the osmanthus tree slowly withering nearby.
Just like Master Zhongli had been, before....
In all her time at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Director Hu had always been grinning and cheerful, forever optimistic and bright.
She remembered how, last time, when Master Zhongli had spent ten million Mora to buy that piece of calligraphy, Director Hu hadn't even been this upset.
She had never once seen the Director like this before....
Had Miss Fang Qiu written something?
Seizing a moment when no one was collecting books, she took one from the little cart.
"Come to think of it, with a title like The Forest of Fireflies' Light, you'd never guess it was a ghost novel."
The young undertaker girl studied the title, a little puzzled.
Still, on the cover, that gate called a torii, plastered all over with talismans, did give off rather the right vibe.
She'd seen this kind of composition on other ghost novels from Inazuma.
Curious, she opened to the title page.
And when she saw the words written on the title page, she instinctively looked up toward the Director.
"Form no bonds, lest you merely deepen your sorrow."
She repeated the line, murmuring softly, "Could it be... because of Miss Fang Qiu?"
Time drifted slowly onward, and in the blink of an eye it was already afternoon.
Fang Qiu was bundled up under her covers, and just as she was sleeping soundly, she suddenly felt two pats on her face.
She instinctively opened her eyes to find Tingyu standing at her bedside, patting her with a paw.
Thankfully Tingyu was clever and hadn't used its claws, only the soft pads—had it been some dumb cat, her face would've been ruined.
Propping herself up with her hands, she sat up, then scooped Tingyu into her arms.
Shenhe had gone out yesterday, saying she was off to call on an Adeptus living in seclusion in Liyue Harbor.
She'd likely be gone for several days.
After spacing out for a while, Fang Qiu stretched lazily and climbed out of bed.
She pushed open the window, and a gust of icy air rushed at her face, pouring in one stream after another, flooding the room.
Even bundled up in her fuzzy panda pajamas, Fang Qiu couldn't help but shiver.
So cold.
"Winter's almost here."
She hunched her shoulders, feeling a touch melancholy.
As much as she longed to watch the snow come whirling down, she was also terrified of the cold.
She was probably the only person alive who owned a Cryo Vision and was still afraid of the cold....
Sometimes she genuinely feared that, should her power grow too strong, the Cryo elemental power she unleashed would be so frigid it would send the surrounding air plummeting—and every time she used it, she'd have to go lie down at Bubu Pharmacy for a good while.
Speaking of which, she had in fact asked others about strengthening one's elemental power.
Only to discover that not a single soul was like her—growing stronger simply by writing novels for others to read.
Shenhe included.
What's more, this manner of growing stronger seemed to have no bottleneck or ceiling whatsoever.
As the saying goes, mend the roof before it rains.
She was already starting to worry that, by the time she became the Cryo Empress, her frail, sickly body wouldn't have improved in the slightest.
Still the same sickly weakling who'd be half-dead with exhaustion and aching all over after strolling barely half a street.
By then she might pin a god into the sea with a single ice spear, only to freeze herself to death because the Cryo element she commanded was simply too overwhelming....
Wouldn't that be just far too humiliating....
These past few days, her power had grown by no small amount yet again.
By Shenhe's assessment, she could now visit most regions of Liyue without any danger.
Still, there remained plenty of places she couldn't go.
The Chasm, for instance.
She'd heard of that place—reputedly perilous in the extreme, somewhere that even Adepti had once met their end.
Never mind.
Best not to dwell on it.
Fang Qiu shook her head, and once she'd gotten Tingyu's cat food ready, she stepped over to the mirror and began to undress.
She needed to change clothes and head out to take refuge—lest Keqing and Ganyu come knocking again, eager to hold some sort of Book Club 2.0, which would be a real headache.
Though in all likelihood the two of them wouldn't have the time.
After all, the Liyue Qixing and the secretaries at Yuehai Pavilion were all seasoned 996 grinders.
Ganyu especially.
When she'd visited the editorial department of the Liyue Publishing House before, she'd overheard some editors gossiping about Ganyu.
They said that one day she'd worked overtime late into the night, and someone passing by Yuehai Pavilion had noticed Ganyu's office still blazing with light.
Clearly still putting in overtime.
Still, better safe than sorry.
What if?
Who could say for certain.
She intended to take refuge over at Hu Tao's place, and while she was there, ask for her opinion on the matter of buying a house.
She wanted a big courtyard.
One with flowers and grass, with hills and water and a grove of trees, and an open-air bathhouse besides.
But in a place as bustling as Liyue Harbor, who knew how much Mora a house with that kind of footprint would run.
Would her ten-million-odd be enough?
As for the money left over, she wanted to invest it in Miss Ningguang's Reflection Pictures Studio..
After all, for the Reflection adaptations down the line, she might not necessarily land a thirty-percent cut anymore.
It wouldn't do to blow all her money in one careless go.
Speaking of Ningguang.
Last time she'd gone over to Ningguang's, she'd recommended the very Jumpy Dumpty beanbag sofa she was sitting in.
She had no idea whether Ningguang had taken her suggestion to heart and placed an order with Mondstadt.
Fang Qiu glanced at the Jumpy Dumpty lying quietly in front of her desk.
Were it not for this Jumpy Dumpty, her delicate little body would long since have been beset by occupational ailments.
Things like lumbar strain, cervical spondylosis, and the like.
In her past life she'd had no shortage of such troubles, to say nothing of this life's frail, sickly body.
It probably wouldn't be long before she couldn't even straighten her back.
In her past life she could at least lie on her stomach in bed and tap out words on her phone.
This life afforded no such luxury.
Writing while sprawled on the bed was inconvenient to begin with.
And should she ever carelessly spill ink all over the bed, that would be sheer torment.
Bathing, changing clothes, changing the sheets....
Bless whoever crafted this big plush doll.
After eating some snacks and seeing that Tingyu had finished its cat food too, she gathered Tingyu up in her arms and set off, making her way toward the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
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