"Rent our venue to receive guests from Liyue?"
"Mhm. Make it lively. That is what you're best at, isn't it?"
That, at least, everyone at the Grand Bazaar could agree on—heads bobbed all around. Noise and color? Songs, dances, live music, street food? They could turn the night itself into a festival.
Nilou still worried. "Grand Sage Idris… are you sure it's wise to welcome foreign envoys here?"
"You don't need to fret about that," Idris said. "I'm informing you so you can prepare and do it well. If you've forgotten how to perform, I'll hire the Eremites to do it instead."
As blunt as ever. Yet the words made hearts leap: if the Bazaar could host state guests, their long-standing "back-alley" stigma might finally crack.
"Handle this properly," he added, "and it won't be the last time you get the job. Also—so your music actually sounds professional… take this."
He tossed a Music Walkman into Nilou's hands.
Nilou turned the familiar, canister-shaped device over, eyes wide. "What is it?"
"Sumeru Music Walkman. If your informants are awake, you've heard the name." (This was one of the first fifty off Alhaitham's line—too few to sell yet, perfect for seeding hype.)
"It has a hands-free mode. Crank the volume and it's a portable speaker. Your dances will land better with real backing."
"Th-this is…" Zubayr and the troupe leaders stared. Merchants had been whispering that the Walkman could set the world's trend—an object of that weight, handed over so casually?
"This counts toward your venue fee," Idris said. "The rest of the rent will be delivered to you."
He turned to leave, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
"Wait, Mr. Idris—one question."
He paused. "Speak."
Nilou braced herself. "Why choose us—this place—to host and to promote your new division? The Akademiya has always looked down on the Bazaar."
Idris shrugged. "I can't be bothered to explain. You wouldn't get it—you're too slow."
(He was, in fact, choosing for political optics: hospitality plus culture. Showcase folk food, warmth, local customs—the Bazaar did all three in one shot. Treat Liyue lavishly here, and when he visited there, etiquette would demand reciprocity. But why waste breath when Nilou would only frown?)
Nilou's lips puffed into a furious pout; her eyes glistened with indignation. Even if I'm slow, you can't just say it! He chuckled, waved again, and strolled out into the lantern-lit night.
Behind him, Zubayr and the elders couldn't hide their pleased grins.
Nilou, too, couldn't keep the smile down. "I never imagined we'd be personally assigned a state reception by the Grand Sage…"
Perhaps because spirits were high, Zubayr let the tease fly. "Hah! Or maybe the young Grand Sage just happens to like our Miss Nilou, so he gave us the job."
"Right, right," another leader chimed in, elbowing lightly. "He came himself, paid in advance, called you Miss… and he handed you the Walkman. Sounds a bit like favoritism to me."
Nilou's cheeks flushed scarlet. "It's not like that! He—he's just… thorough about work. That's all!"
"Mm-hmm," Zubayr drawled, clearly unconvinced—but grinning. "In any case, we've got a reception to build. Music team, try that 'hands-free' mode. Stage crew, lanterns and carpets. Cooks, plan a set of Sumeru-style banquet bites—if we're hosting Liyue, we'll show them how the Bazaar celebrates."
Nilou pressed the Walkman to her chest, temper cooling into resolve. "Right. If we're doing this, we'll do it perfectly."
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