❝ WOULD YOU HAVE FOLLOWED ME TO THE LEFT OF ELYSIAN? ❞
As heiress to Teyvat's greatest trading company, you sat at the summit of nobility and wealth. Thus at the age of twenty, you were arranged to marry someone befitting your wealth and status- wh...
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A FORTNIGHT SINCE your celebration banquet, a tremendous amount of work has been thrown onto you. Work left behind by your adoptive father, had to be finished. You have taken on the role of director of the company, you ought to start somewhere.
You have been living in a different wing of the home you shared with Scaramouche in Liyue, so that you had your own sector of privacy away from him. For two weeks, you had ordered for complete and utter privacy from everyone except for your closest confidants in order to complete the mountain of work left in the wake of your adoptive father's death.
Ever since going on your sabbatical throughout Teyvat, you had avoided any sort of actual work until now. Seated in your adoptive father's old desk, you took on the hundreds of paperwork he had left behind for you to sign. Trade deals, stocks reports, and exchanges; signing yourself onto the late D\director's authority and seat. It was work you've been dreading since your coming of age. Any common folk at your age would have spent their free time partying in the Harbor yet you were confined to the seat you've inherited.
As the hours passed, your ability to comprehend the inked text written onto the parchment began to diminish. Inky text blurred together into one black amalgamation of blotched words. Your own perception began to falter as time went on. You sat hunched over another stack of papers to look over and sign, twirling a fountain pen between your fingers as your eyes skimmed the text before quickly signing your name on the bottom, stamping with your family seal.
A sigh of relief broke the silence in the room as you tossed the pen aside, slouching against the chair of the desk. The sound of your pen skidding across your desk echoed throughout the room.
Two firm knocks upon your door quickly garnered your attention. "Come in."
"Young Master," Wenling's entrance into your office is a welcomed one. Many of her bandages were removed since the incident that had occurred two weeks ago and she only struggled with a slightly broken ankle (though she assured you that it would heal swiftly). She wobbled in, holding a tray of tea and much needed refreshments after working for the past nine hours of the day.
