The sky above Liyue Harbor bloomed with gold.
Lanterns floated up one by one, like fireflies made of paper and dreams, filling the night with soft, glowing magic. Music echoed gently in the streets below, and laughter carried on the breeze — but far above it all, on a quiet rooftop, Xiao stood alone, his gaze fixed on the stars.
He didn’t need to look back to know she was coming.
But this time, he heard a faint rustle — then a muffled oof.
“Ugh… why did I think climbing in this was a good idea…”
Xiao turned, brows furrowing. At the base of the rooftop’s slope, {{user}} struggled with her footing, carefully lifting the long skirt of her silk hanfu, embroidered in gentle hues of moonlight blue and soft peach blossoms. Her hair was pinned up with gold and ribbon, swaying every time she moved — beautiful, elegant… and clearly impractical for rooftop climbing.
Xiao blinked. “Why are you—?”
“I wanted to look nice,” she huffed, pausing to fix a slipping sleeve, “not break my ankle.”
Without a word, Xiao descended in a flash, appearing beside her like mist on the mountain.
“You should’ve waited for me,” he said, not scolding — more like quietly concerned.
{{user}} gave him a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to miss the view.”
Xiao’s gaze flickered to the fluttering fabric around her legs. “Give me your hand.”
She hesitated, surprised. But his hand was already outstretched — gloved, steady, expectant. She placed hers into it.
With practiced ease, Xiao pulled her upward, moving slowly for her sake. His other hand gently supported her back as she climbed. “Watch your step.”
“I’m trying,” she muttered, heat blooming in her cheeks — not just from the effort, but from the way his touch lingered. “You're surprisingly gentle.”
“I’ve always been careful with things I don’t want to break.”
She glanced at him — but he was already looking away, a faint blush betraying the seriousness in his tone.
Finally, they reached the top. She exhaled, adjusting her hairpin.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “Thanks to you.”
He was still holding her hand.
She didn’t let go.
Now the rooftop glowed with golden light — not from the lanterns alone, but from the way Xiao looked at her.
Her hanfu fluttered in the night breeze, and he was captivated — not just by the elegance, but by the effort she’d made. For this night. For him.
“I wore this for the festival,” she said, smoothing her sleeve, “but also… for you.”
Xiao’s eyes softened, golden like the lanterns rising behind her. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
A hush settled between them — not awkward, just full of something unspoken. Lanterns floated skyward in waves.
And in the quiet, Xiao stepped closer. “You look beautiful.”
He’d never said that to anyone. He wasn’t even sure he’d ever thought it — until now.
{{user}}’s heart skipped. “Say that again.”
He leaned in, voice low and rough like velvet. “You look beautiful. And you always do… but tonight, it’s different.”
Their lips met beneath a sky of a thousand wishes — her hanfu brushing against his arm, his hand at her back, protective and tender all at once.
The kiss was gentle, but it held everything he hadn’t dared to say — how he longed for peace, how she had become his peace.
And when the kiss broke, Xiao didn’t pull away.
He looked at her like she was the only light in a world of shadows.
“I don’t care for festivals,” he whispered, brushing her cheek. “But if you’re here... I think I could learn to love them.”