10: Rockridge Teahouse

Tartaglia had left.

He didn't say where he was going, but Saphir had a gut feeling that somewhere out of her sight, an epic, water-element-infused encounter was about to unfold.

But whatever it was, it no longer concerned her.

Before the next round of chaos found her, she had her own work to handle.

Her first stop was The Chasm.

With the access permit Tartaglia had handed over, she successfully made it to the surface-level mining district.

Her companion for the trip was someone she'd met along the way: a man claiming to be a former Chasm miner, Randy.

"This used to be Liyue's biggest mining operation. Fed thousands of families,"

Randy muttered, his workwear dusty, voice low and rough.

"Shut down after some weird phenomena appeared deep underground. Got laid off because of it."

Saphir gave a small nod.

That "weird phenomena" was likely the black sludge in the underground mines—the exact thing Pulcinella's Ninth Division had been dispatched to investigate.

Fixing that would probably require someone going all the way to Sumeru to patch up the World Tree.

She scratched her head and silently sent the Ninth her condolences.

"Good luck down there, Ninth Division."

"Randy," she asked, "so what'll you do now that the mine's closed?"

He shrugged and adjusted his hat.

"Helping out down at the docks. Barely making ends meet. Luckily, I've got no family to feed—just myself."

His tone was tinged with helplessness—almost like he was used to being unlucky.

Saphir pondered for a moment.

"Well, I just so happen to be looking to set up shop in Liyue. I could use someone to help out. Pay's better than the docks. Interested?"

Randy blinked. Then grinned from ear to ear.

"Really? I—Thank you! I won't let you down!"

Saphir simply nodded, leading him away from the mining zone.

But of course…

Randy wasn't really Randy.

He was Yelan, in disguise.

She'd done an impeccable job hiding her identity—even mimicked a working man's gait and cadence.

But Saphir had recognized her anyway.

It was the scent.

A faint, luxurious musk—exotic and rare. The same scent that had once clung to the fur of a magical beast that Pantalone had tried to gift the Tsaritsa. That plan had failed, and the fur had vanished… but Saphir remembered that scent well.

After all, she had escorted that cargo herself during her mission in Sumeru.

Yelan had tried to suppress the scent. But Saphir's nose—trained for ambushes, espionage, and rare materials—caught it instantly.

This was their first close encounter.

Back then, their paths had crossed only in shadow. This time, they met face to face.

They arrived at Rockridge Teahouse.

Behind the reception desk stood Chu Yi, eyeing them with a mixture of doubt and impatience.

"What business do you two have here?" she asked, eyebrows furrowing.

The girl looked like she wasn't from around here—dressed in black nun robes and a veil. Probably broke.

As for the guy in the miner's outfit? Even more pathetic.

Too young, too scruffy, too suspicious.

Saphir offered a calm smile.

"Isn't this place called Rockridge Teahouse? We came to drink tea, of course."

Chu Yi rolled her eyes.

Two clueless country bumpkins.

"Move along. This isn't a place for the likes of you."

Saphir's smile vanished.

"What? I can go drink at Heyu Teahouse, but Rockridge's suddenly off-limits?"

That gave Chu Yi pause.

Someone who knew about Heyu Teahouse might not be a complete nobody.

She forced a smile, voice softening slightly.

"Of course, if you want to come in, you're welcome. But just a heads-up—tea here's not cheap. Best come prepared."

Saphir's eyes glinted with amusement.

"Oh? So this isn't just a place for tea? Sounds like there's… entertainment to be found?"

Chu Yi reevaluated her completely.

From broke outsider → connected outsider → spoiled rich girl from out of town.

"Why yes, miss," she said, now beaming. "We're all about entertainment here! If you've got the Mora, anything you want is yours."

Saphir turned and glanced at Yelan-in-disguise.

Then turned back.

"Take us upstairs. If there's one thing I'm not lacking, it's Mora."

She was a Harbinger. The Northland Bank might as well have her name on it.

The main hall was bustling.

Several gambling tables were spread out—men and women shouting, cheering, and calling bets.

"Big or small? Place your bets!"

Saphir swept her gaze across the room.

Behind her, Yelan's eyes narrowed with interest. Her cover as Randy held for now, but she kept close watch.

"Hey, Randy," Saphir said casually, pulling out a heavy coin pouch.

"You wanna play a few hands?"

Yelan hesitated. The temptation was real—but…

"Nah, I'm no good at these games. Don't wanna waste your money."

"Suit yourself."

Saphir tossed the coin pouch on the nearest dice table. It landed with a loud clink—enough Mora to buy half the bar.

The players went quiet.

Even the dealer looked impressed.

The dice table featured a classic Hilomp layout: a three-dice format with bets ranging from total sums to rare combos.

Saphir set her bag down on the 15-point square.

"Tables don't care how old you are, uncle. You in or out?"

One of the men at the table, a sour-faced thug, gave a mocking laugh.

"You sure you know how this works, little girl?"

Saphir ignored him, merely crossing her legs with a smirk.

He sneered again but signaled to let her join.

"Fine, just this once. We usually don't let people jump in mid-round."

"Last call—place your bets!"

The dice were shaken, the cup lifted.

"Four, five, six! Fifteen points!"

The room fell silent.

Yelan's eyes widened. She had been watching everyone at the table—particularly the man with the gloomy face. He was clearly one of the teahouse's plants.

But she never expected Saphir to land the exact total.

Did she predict that? Or... manipulate it?

The plant and the dealer exchanged uneasy glances.

Saphir chuckled, scooping her winnings—then immediately placed them on another square: Double-Four-One, payout 8x.

The dealer blinked.

"Um… miss? We haven't rolled yet."

"No need," Saphir said lazily. "In fact, I think your betting-after-roll system is far too forgiving."

The dice rolled.

"Four, four, two! Ten points!"

The table erupted in gasps.

Even Yelan sucked in a breath.

This wasn't luck. This was absurd. Two perfect calls, back to back.

The dealer and the plant locked eyes again. One of the other men—clearly another employee—slipped away quietly. Probably off to fetch the boss.

Saphir casually placed another bet.

She hadn't missed the man sneaking off. Of course not.

"What?! Someone's winning like that? Trying to disrupt my house?!"

The teahouse's owner was a bespectacled man with a cold demeanor. Hearing the report, he immediately made his way to the hall.

Yelan, still in her "Randy" persona, watched quietly as the boss entered.

She had to admit—even she was starting to feel overwhelmed by Saphir's presence.

One win might be luck. Two? Suspicious.

Three? There's a name for that: trouble.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the boss said with an oily smile, "I hear we've got a prodigy in the house. My apologies for the poor hospitality."

His appearance brought visible relief to the dealer and the thug, who greeted him with exaggerated respect.

"Hmph. Bunch of useless clowns."

The boss sneered at his subordinates, then gave a slight nod.

The gloomy-faced thug got the message and quietly slipped away.

Something was about to go down.

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