At the same time, inside the Acting Grand Master's office of the Knights of Favonius—
Jean had already been working for a while.
The documents were still piled high as ever, yet somehow… the office felt too quiet today.
She finished reviewing a report and instinctively lifted her head, her gaze drifting toward the assistant's desk.
Empty.
The tabletop was spotless, the chair neatly tucked in as if no one had sat there at all.
Jean frowned slightly.
Yichen… hadn't come to work yet?
This was a first.
That assistant—always energetic, always early, the one who somehow managed to finish mountains of work ahead of schedule—was late?
Or… had he taken leave?
No. She hadn't received any notice.
Jean shook her head, trying to dismiss the untimely distraction, forcing herself to refocus on the document before her.
The pen scratched softly against the paper, but for some reason, her efficiency had dropped.
The office was too quiet.
Quiet enough to feel… unsettling.
No overly energetic yet utterly unromantic morning confession delivered right on time.
No odd muttering about "process optimization" or "efficient slacking techniques."
No rapid-fire file handling so fast it almost left afterimages behind.
Jean paused her pen.
Only then did she realize—after barely a month—that strange, abstract, yet absurdly capable assistant had already blended seamlessly into her daily work rhythm.
Perhaps… it just felt odd because she hadn't heard the routine confession.
That must be it.
Definitely nothing else.
Yet the sense of unease crept in like thin vines, quietly wrapping around her thoughts.
An office without him…
Really did feel a little—
"Grrrrr—"
A long, unmistakable sound suddenly rose from her stomach, breaking the silence.
Jean: "..."
She instinctively covered her abdomen, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
Right… it was that time.
No one had brought her breakfast today.
Normally, by now, Yichen would appear at just the right moment, handing over warm Fisherman's Toast, pancakes, or some other Mondstadt staple—along with a procedural confession—before immediately getting to work after her rejection.
Today, both her stomach and her work rhythm felt the absence.
Jean glanced at the cold tea on her desk, then out at the bright sunlight beyond the window.
Finally, she let out a soft sigh and set down her pen.
A vague mixture of concern—and something she refused to examine too closely—pushed her to stop waiting.
Jean stepped out of the Knights' headquarters. The sunlight was a bit harsh, making her narrow her eyes.
Just as she reached the street, a green figure swayed into her path—more accurately, blocked her with impressive precision.
"Ehe~ Good morning, Grand Master Jean!"
Venti hugged his lyre, his expression a strange mix of lingering hangover and undisguised excitement. His eyes, however, sparkled far too brightly.
"Good morning, Venti," Jean replied politely, though her tone carried a hint of urgency.
"Have you seen Yichen?"
"Yichen?"
Venti slapped his forehead dramatically, as if struck by sudden realization.
"Oh no! This is bad, Grand Master Jean—very bad!"
He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially—yet loud enough that nearby pedestrians could still vaguely hear.
"I saw it with my own eyes last night! Captain Eula—she took a completely drunk Yichen straight into the small inn across from the Cat's Tail! And they didn't come out all night!"
"What?!"
Jean's pupils shrank instantly.
Venti's words crashed into her heart like a chunk of ice, sending bitter ripples through her chest.
An inn?
Eula and Yichen?
All night?
A dull, sour ache gripped her heart—far more suffocating than the most troublesome paperwork.
She didn't stop to question the logic.
Didn't pause to doubt Venti's reliability.
"Thank you for telling me."
She hurried off, almost forgetting her composure, summoning Anemo to quicken her steps as she rushed in the direction Venti had pointed.
The morning breeze lifted her golden hair and cape, but it couldn't dispel the growing sourness twisting in her chest.
She didn't know why she was in such a hurry.
She just needed to see for herself.
Maybe Venti was mistaken.
Maybe there was a misunderstanding.
Yet her heart felt uncomfortably tight—like biting into an unripe Sunsettia.
When Jean finally reached the modest-looking inn, her breathing hadn't fully steadied as she scanned the entrance—
And at that moment—
Creak.
The slightly worn wooden door opened.
Eula stepped out first.
She looked calm. No—more than calm.
Almost… radiant.
There was even a faint, barely noticeable curve at the corner of her lips.
She tilted her head slightly, speaking to someone behind her.
Then Yichen followed.
He wore yesterday's uniform, yawning as he rubbed his still-aching temples. His expression carried the haze of a hangover—but it was relaxed.
He listened to Eula, then grinned and nodded.
The two walked out side by side, chatting naturally.
Harmoniously.
Sunlight bathed them, painting a scene that—
to Jean—
was unbearably glaring.
So they really had…
Spent the whole night together?
Every doubt, every worry, every attempt at self-reassurance shattered under what looked like undeniable proof.
Jean stopped dead in her tracks, frozen as if by unseen frost.
Watching the two of them, she suddenly felt like an unnecessary outsider—someone who had accidentally stumbled upon a secret.
A wave of loss and embarrassment swallowed her whole.
She didn't even have the courage to step forward and ask.
To confirm.
Jean simply took one last, deep look at the scene—
Then turned abruptly away.
Almost as if fleeing.
Her steps were no longer hurried, but heavy. Unsteady.
The sun was bright. Mondstadt was waking. The city's sounds grew louder—
Yet none of it could disperse the shadow that had suddenly settled in her heart.
She didn't return to the office.
Instead, she unconsciously walked toward a quieter corner of the city—
Needing time.
And space.
To process this unexpected, chest-tightening "discovery."
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