There’s a quiet sort of admiration to the way she watches Xiangling work. It’s about how cheery she still is, in the face of what has (so far, at least) been a fruitless effort, probably; while Keqing is no stranger to running into walls when she’s fulfilling her duties as Yuheng, she’s also nowhere near this patient. If she were properly in Xiangling’s shoes right now, there’s no doubt that she would’ve had to leave her desk in favor of (gently!) grilling Ganyu on how Rex Lapis might’ve handled the situation.

That perseverance of hers helps to light a fire within Keqing, though, which is… probably a good thing?

“Mm. I remember,” she confirms, with a little nod of her head. And then she’s off, stepping closer to the bushes of peppers. One hand finds its way to her chin as her gaze scans over them, and—

“… how orange are they supposed to be, exactly?”

Without a proper reference (not to mention proper lightning, which becomes more and more of a problem as time ticks by), all she can really do is trust her gut, here. Still, it might be apparent that Keqing is onto something, as she crouches down to get a closer look at one particular plant.

To her eye, the peppers that are growing from it do indeed look more orange, and it’s growing just a little bit further away from its neighbors; not significantly, but enough that it strikes her as being a bit odd. Maybe that’s a sign that this plant is different…?

With a careful twist of her wrist, just as Xiangling had reminded her, Keqing breaks one of the chilis free, and then holds it up so that her girlfriend will be able to spot it.

“This one looks a little different from the others, doesn’t it?” … maybe she’s getting a little over-confident, though. She hardly even waits for an answer before she plucks the remaining chilis off of the bush.