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- Honkai Impact 3rd Story Guide: Part 2 Season 1
- Honkai Impact 3rd Story Guide: Part 2 Season 1
The Fatui Harbinger Scaramouche has revealed a shocking truth: the stars and sky of Teyvat are a lie. The Traveler now continues on their journey to Dragonspine, where even more secrets lie.
Alchemy is an ancient art, and many of its secrets have been lost to history. The few commonly known alchemy techniques of today are but enough to put some broken odds and ends together, saving you the money you would have otherwise spent on glue.
“Nay, alchemy is not so ignoble an art!” Or so most alchemists would protest.
But as far as the average citizen of Mondstadt was concerned, that was alchemy.
At least until the day Albedo suddenly appeared and decided to stay in Mondstadt.
This young man displayed the true prowess of alchemy to all, bringing with him a massive corpus of wisdom that even the Sumeru Akademiya did not possess. “The universe is heaven reversed, and the earth is a dream lost to time. This is dust, the most basic form of complex life.”
As if to provide evidence for this claim, Albedo lifted the burnt ash of the flower that once grew atop a Dendro Slime’s head.
Seconds later, a Cecilia sprouted forth from the ash in his hand.
“And this… is new birth.”
Albedo has a very important job within the Knights of Favonius but does not often appear in public.
Still, he does not have the strange and eccentric temper that people tend to assume of academics. In fact, he is earnest in all his dealings.
He is, however, of the persuasion that it requires more energy to maintain relationships established on excessive enthusiasm.
As a result, Albedo’s equivalent of friendship involves maintaining an appropriate degree of distance.
Whether shutting himself away to work or traveling and gathering materials, no one in Mondstadt knows how to find him.
Albedo’s tendency to avoid social interactions does not make him a cold-hearted person.
He is sincere and contented when instructing his assistants, Timaeus and Sucrose.
He finds pleasure in giving his sketches to the citizens of Mondstadt.
Yet he cannot help but feel sincere disappointment that Lisa, for all her great talents, has chosen to remain a mere Librarian.
“Albedo only got into Mondstadt because of his master’s recommendation letter.”
On some level, this statement is true. Nevertheless, Mondstadt’s gates are ever open to all, and a recommendation letter is not strictly necessary.
Indeed, it could be argued that Albedo’s life would have been far more comfortable without the letter.
This is because the recipient of the letter was the famed travel writer Alice, an old friend of Albedo’s master, Rhinedottir.
After receiving the letter, Alice considered its requests.
“So Rhine said that you’ll need a laboratory… And not one of a size that a civilian could build, either. Hmm… I know!”
And just like that, she threw him into the Knights of Favonius.
The work of the Knights is actually quite easy for Albedo — requiring only five percent of his energy.
Albedo had imagined that the rest of his energy could be spent on experiments, with the Knights’ full range of apparatus at his disposal.
And yet…
Alice had a daughter, named Klee.
Yes, “that” Klee.
“We’ll be a family from now on, treat her like a real younger sister!”
From that day forth, remedying Klee’s disasters would come to take up most of Albedo’s remaining energy…
Albedo has no memory of any blood relations. From birth, he was already adventuring deep within domains with his master.
Of course, Miss Alice, the Knights of Favonius, and that traveler who had a sense of the stellar depths about them… They are all important. And yet his master is unquestionably the most special to him.
For Albedo, she is his only kin.
She was a cold and strict woman who raised him and taught him the secrets of alchemy.
“The universe is the dark essence of the true starry sky, and the earth is the accumulated memories of time and lives.
The chalk: that is you. The earth is where alchemy gets its name, and is the basis of all life. And this…”
She demonstrated her technique before him as a huge life form burst from its culture tank in a shower of shattered fragments.
“…This is new birth.”
Albedo once led a simple and content existence.
There was no need for him to contemplate anything. Life was uneventful, its meaning consisted of nothing more than accompanying his teacher, doing what she asked of him, and meeting her expectations.
But one day, deep in the heart of a dungeon, master and apprentice discovered an artifact known as The Heart of Naberius.
And with that, his master disappeared, leaving naught but a note, a recommendation letter, and a classical text behind.
Upon the note was written: “Albedo, go to Mondstadt. Find my old friend, Alice, and give her the recommendation letter. Then, complete your final assignment.”
The classical text was one of the last extant manuscripts of the Opus Magnum from his master’s collection.
If one were to push the definition a little, she had left him another gift — the title of Kreideprinz, and with it, a written acknowledgment that she had nothing further to teach him.
In the past, Albedo’s assignments had always been very difficult.
He had always believed wholeheartedly that his master would make good on her threat to leave him, should he fail.
But this assignment she had left to him was far too hard, far beyond the limit of his abilities.
Did this mean, then, that he was fated to never complete it, and thus never see his master again?
“Your final assignment: show me the truth and the meaning of this world.”
The alchemy that Albedo commands is wholly different from any of the arts practiced in the Seven Nations of Teyvat.
Its lineage can be traced back to the nation of Khaenri’ah.
Khaenri’ah was an underground realm, with precious few natural fauna. As such, its alchemy focused more heavily on the creation of life.
This art of creation was known as “The Art of Khemia.”
Albedo had learned of this in his youth from reading his master’s notes.
The next stage after “soil” is “chalk,” which was also something his master had mentioned.
“Chalk is the spotless soil, and was used to make primordial man.”
Now, Albedo understands alchemy in far greater depth than he did in the beginning, and his knowledge on the subject is far more comprehensive.
“From soil was birthed chalk.”
The profundity of this statement is well understood by Albedo now.
Such ineffable secrets are bound up with his fond memories of his master.
She was not his birth mother, but there is no doubt that his life stems from her.
“I hope this isn’t just wishful thinking, but… when parents speak to their children about ‘the meaning of this world’… surely they just mean the pursuit of a happy life?”
From time to time, Albedo finds himself musing on this sentiment.
Albedo’s interest in drawing and painting began back in the days of traveling with his master.
At first, he would simply illustrate his notes with basic sketches. But he soon noticed that the process of rendering things in great detail helped him to intimately understand their physical makeup, which was of great utility to his alchemical studies.
Additionally, it also allowed him to enter into a pleasant state of clarity, in which he needed only to focus on observation and creating his artwork, and nothing else.
Eventually, Albedo became a master artist without ever having received formal tuition.
When strolling through Mondstadt, he enjoys sketching and painting all manner of living things, but particularly people in moments of joy.
Sometimes, he even gifts his artwork to his unsuspecting models, believing that when a work of art captures a transient moment of enjoyment, it is something worth treasuring.
Albedo continued to refine his skills in this manner, going from strength to strength — until one day, when he was taken aback by illustrations from Inazuma.
How was it that drawings of such generality could possess such narrative power?
Amazed, he decided to give it a go himself.
…Eventually, after collaborating with a certain novelist by the name of Xingqiu, “A Legend of Sword” was printed and published.
Unfortunately, it received lukewarm reviews, being lambasted as “a dictionary with divine illustrations.”
Gaining a Vision came as no great surprise to Albedo.
When he received it, he gave it a single glance before continuing to engross himself in his work.
He barely felt any wave of emotion at all, as if this was something to be taken for granted.
As far as he is concerned, his Vision is merely a tool with which he can more conveniently conduct his research.
What truly sparks joy within him is turning the unknown into the known.
One day, he will understand all there is to know about this world — and Visions are no exception.
To be written…
Sucrose may be the assistant of the genius alchemist Albedo, but they could not be more different in research direction.
As opposed to studying the essence of alchemy and the ability to create new life, she is far more interested in using alchemy to modify existing life, all the better to add variety and color to this world.
Despite her youth, she has already achieved some brilliant results. For example, she has been able to increase the nectar output of Sweet Flowers by 70% by irrigating them with a special potion. She has also developed a special spray that allows Sunsettias to maintain their freshness for a whole month after being plucked from the branch.
Even people who were initially suspicious of her research inclinations have come to acknowledge her exceptional talents in the field of alchemy after seeing such results.
However, she merely considers these to be incidental steps on the path to a successful experiment, rather than the success itself. Her true aim is much more ambitious than this.
It’s a secret, and is also her little dream.
Bio-alchemy explores numerous lines of inquiry, all of which stem from Sucrose’s questions about living things in the world. These questions, in turn, are born out of her insatiable curiosity, a faculty that is far more developed in her than it is in most.
For instance, Sucrose’s curiosity was once drawn to the sweet flower, accepted by most people as simply being a source of sugar.
She wondered: Although sweetness is clearly the most readily identifiable feature of this plant, should that be grounds for limiting its application as we have tended to do? Does it not merit further study?
So, after a careful study of the various features of sweet flowers, she devised thirty-something distinct rearing plans along with numerous control groups to account for temperature and other environmental conditions.
And yet, her experiment still underestimated just how many variations were possible. After the experiment began, Sucrose found herself with more questions rather than fewer, and the novel discoveries that her experiment yielded gave her inspiration for further research.
Sucrose is incapable of leaving a question unattended to — it makes her restless, even guilty, to ignore it. Spurred on by this quirk of her temperament, her rearing plans grew in number to almost three hundred.
The result was a whole new series of sweet flower strains: Some with thrice the number of flowers, some with heads five or six times the normal size that could even float in the wind, and some even producing a sweet-tasting fruit.
Months of experimentation later, Sucrose had finally answered every last one of her questions pertaining to sweet flowers. As she finished writing up her research notes, she let out a long sigh of relief.
Though she was physically and mentally exhausted, the sight of stack after stack of her bio-alchemical research volumes stretching around three walls of the room gave her a deep sense of joy and satisfaction.
To the people around her, Sucrose comes across as a quiet, introverted alchemist with little interest in the lives of others.
In fact, the truth is quite the opposite: Sucrose is fascinated by absolutely everything that exists in the world. The only thing is, she finds the discipline of social interaction to be far more difficult to master than that of alchemy.
In alchemy, the process of trial-and-error coupled with a determination to get to the truth is sufficient to bring you to your answer eventually. But with interpersonal relationships, there is the added complication of having to factor in manners, moods, and other unquantifiable variables. To make things worse, there seems to be no room for an approach that relies heavily on making errors.
Hence, Sucrose decided to avoid such variables at all costs and stick to her familiar methods in satisfying her curiosity.
For instance, Sucrose had always been curious about whether she and Cat’s Tail bartender Diona, both of whom have animal ears, had any shared ancestry.
In fact, this was not a private matter, and most people would simply ask the question. But Sucrose was concerned that it would be a sensitive topic — she, for one, did not like people drawing attention to her ears.
So, she resorted to the method she knew best: observation.
For one whole month, Diona constantly had an unnerving sense that someone was secretly watching her. She assumed that one of the tavern patrons was stalking her, and was none too happy about it.
“Similar genome, but ultimately different ancestry. Cat connection merits further study. Note: Unable to obtain bone sample thus far.”
This is the conclusion that Sucrose has jotted down in her notebook based on her findings so far.
Bio-alchemy aside, Sucrose made one further discovery from this episode.
That is to say, judging by the pair of cat-ear spectacles she made for herself after the event, it would appear that she has finally come to comprehend a certain uniquely feline variety of cuteness. She is too shy to wear them in public, however, and only puts them on when alone in her room.
Once every three days, Sucrose ventures out into the real world at dusk. To her, these excursions are rare and momentous events.
One by one, she visits the butcher’s, the Adventurers’ Guild, and the Springvale hunters, looking for a material of a very specific kind.
“H—Hi… Sorry, I… I’d like, um, the freshest, best-quality b—bones you’ve got… Yep, the ones with the blood and meat still on.”
People found her behavior utterly unusual at first, but once they had gotten used to it, they were eager to oblige, even putting the rarest bones aside for her in advance.
This was a major bonus for her. Not only was she able to acquire an ample supply of the usual chicken and boar bones, but she also got her hands on a complete lizard skeleton and even a chunk of hilichurl leg bone still bearing fresh blood.
Her eyes would light up with excitement at the sight of these strange and rare bones. She would thank Katheryne of the Adventurers’ Guild profusely, bowing to her over and over.
As well as going some way towards satisfying Sucrose’s curiosity, she also found new inspiration from piecing new bones together
More importantly, collecting skeletons was her hobby, and she was crazy about it.
One day, Sucrose happened to overhear a mother attempting to discipline her child:
“If you don’t do as your told, the scary old lady with the cloth sack over her back will come to your door, go into your room, pick out every bone from your body, and take them away!”
Sucrose’s curiosity compelled her to investigate further. It turned out that this was nothing more than a ghost story used by mothers to shock their children into compliance, and that it had existed long before Sucrose was even born.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found out the truth.
Soon after this, people noticed that Sucrose had switched her cloth sack for a leather one. Perhaps she did this just because she was shy. Or perhaps it was to avoid arousing suspicion…
As an assistant, Sucrose does everything she can to support Albedo, and even though his alchemical inquiries tend more towards the abstruse, she finds herself learning a lot every time.
After an experiment lasting five straight days and nights came to its end, Albedo noticed that Sucrose was on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion, and organized a mandatory seven-day vacation for her.
Sucrose began her holiday determined to take a proper rest and regain her energy, but from the moment that she woke up on day one she struggled to adjust to the vacation lifestyle.
First things first, let’s get some breakfast: fried eggs, sausages, and a cup of coffee. Nothing new to report there. All of these were foods and beverages that she had previously researched, after all.
Next, she thought, how about a little rest and relaxation in the sun with a good book? Again, nothing new to report: plenty of research shows this to be one of the most effective means of relaxation. There wasn’t a book that she hadn’t already read, and there wasn’t a query that she hadn’t already highlighted, looked into, and later annotated for clarification.
So then she did some household chores: laundry, dusting, tidying. Check. Once again — nothing new to report. There was nothing to dispute about the fact that a clean and tidy environment is conducive to mental well-being.
Half a day in, and Sucrose had not had the occasion to ask “why” or “how” even once.
She was bored, restless, and angsty, and she could not calm herself down.
She was desperate to throw herself at a research problem. It didn’t matter what it was: She would have happily researched the potted plants on the terrace, even if nothing came of it. Anything just to pass the time.
But wherever she looked — the Lamp Grass to her left, the Sweet Flower in front of her, or the Cecilia to her right — all she found were things that she had previously researched in exhaustive detail.
Finally, she gave up and forced herself to go to sleep. The next day, she reported to the laboratory first thing in the morning.
“All day long, you have nothing to research, and nothing to question. That’s not rest, it’s torture!”
Sucrose’s childhood was no different from anyone else’s in Mondstadt. She had loving parents, she had her best friends. Life was simple, and beautiful.
Her most enduring childhood memory is a story she once heard about a wonderful paradise.
Somewhere in a far-flung corner of Teyvat, there was an undiscovered domain with pretty pink flowers the height of a hundred people, teeny-tiny floating fairies flying over all the place, and beautiful unicorns, the pinnacle of perfection.
Sucrose and her two best friends believed that if only they could reach this magical place, they would surely live happily ever after.
But time went by, and one of her friends left on a long journey with her adventurer parents, never to return.
The other suffered a domestic tragedy: Her father fell ill and passed away, her whole personality changed, and she broke off her friendship with Sucrose. The promise that they had once made to reunite some day in the future no longer meant anything.
Sucrose felt lonelier then than she ever had felt before in her whole life. They hadn’t even set eyes on paradise yet, and already her friends were gone…
Well. Even if they were destined to never meet again, Sucrose was desperate to honor their past friendship in some way. That was when she discovered the existence of alchemy from a book that she was reading.
Sucrose realized: Though she had never had the chance to find the entrance to that wondrous place, she now had the opportunity to be the creator of her own paradise.
Thus began her study of bio-alchemy, and she poured all of her curiosity and passion into it.
Still, she has never once mentioned the story of paradise and her bygone friendships to anyone else.
Perhaps one day, when that place she first learned of in a children’s storybook finally becomes a reality in the real world, her friends will return.
Sucrose has a set of strict requirements when it comes to the selection of species for her personal paradise. After experimentation, specimens that are up to standard she tags with “pass.”
At first, she wanted to give exotic-sounding names to each of her plants, just like in the stories, but whenever she came to try and name something, she found herself completely at a loss for ideas.
After spending so long as a scientist, she insisted on flawless logic even when it came to relatively trivial matters such as naming.
Her earliest batch of names included the following: “Grassflower,” a flower that grows on grass;
“Flowergrass,” a grass that grows beneath flowers;
“Multigrassflower,” a flower that grows on dense grass, and so on and so forth.
Even such un-paradisiacal names as these would take Sucrose forever to come up with — far longer than the duration of the experiments themselves.
In the end, she gave up on naming altogether and simply used the specimen identifiers from her research notes instead. Yes, this meant the names ended up being much longer, but, but…
…But anyway, Sucrose is the creator of this paradise, so why shouldn’t she get to name things any way she wants to?
It was on an afternoon just like any other that Sucrose received her Vision.
Ready to begin her one-hundred-and-fifty-ninth dandelion-seed simmering experiment, she poured her carefully crafted alchemical solution into the cauldron.
Instantly, the cauldron hit boiling point, and the entire room was filled with steam. Sucrose rushed to the cauldron, anxious to see what new transmutation had occurred this time; in her excitement, she even burned both of her hands on the lip of the cauldron.
Much to her disappointment, however, the Dandelion Seeds had once again burned to a crisp. But there was something new there, too: lying there amidst the black Dandelion Seeds was a Vision.
And yet, rather than pouring out the liquid and taking her Vision, she first thought for a moment and then lit the fire up again to continue simmering the contents of the cauldron.
She was curious to know what further reactions might occur between Dandelion Seeds and Visions.
Sadly, the experiment ended in failure after three hours of constant simmering.
Still, there was no denying that she had reaped a great reward from this experiment, for the elemental energy provided by her Vision would become her single greatest asset in her future bio-alchemical endeavors.
To be written…
This quest triggers upon approach. Avoid approaching the Mondstadt crafting bench until you are ready to start
The corpse of the abyssal dragon Durin lies on Dragonspine. The Traveler witnessed the Durin’s power in action through a strange sword: The Festering Desire. As the journey continues, even more questions seem to arise.
In Liyue’s traditional customs, “receiving adepti” and “sending adepti off” are equally important.
The Hus of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, who have been in this business for 77 generations, are the masters of handling funerals. However, Hu Tao, the current owner of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, primarily focuses on the art of sending mortals on their way.
For the various ceremonies for sending adepti off, Hu Tao usually employs the help of a friend in more or less the same business. That person’s name is Zhongli. The adepti have been with Liyue for millennia, but only a handful have ascended in the past three thousand years, which means that everything regarding the traditions now only exists in texts. This is not something one would likely witness twice in their entire lifetime.
Not even the most particular and learned of researchers or scholars could find one fault in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s ceremonies for sending adepti off.
Everything must be perfect, from the costumes, the time, the place, the items, the weather, the scheduled length, the size of the permitted audience, to the stature, profession, and age of said audience. Nothing can be overlooked.
When folk describe Zhongli as “living history,” the latter usually only smiles and sighs.
“I… just have a good memory.”
In Liyue, if a person pays great attention to details, and has insuperable criteria by which they judge certain matters, then they are called “particular.”
In truth, everyone is “particular” about something. Some people hate spicy food, others don’t eat fish, and some want their tofu served sweet…
But as for Zhongli, he is particular about everything.
He attends operas performed by only the most celebrated stars, takes only the most luxuriant thrushes out for walks, and he goes into the kitchen personally to instruct the cooks as to the ratio of shrimp and fish required to make the most authentic Fullmoon Egg.
Zhongli has expertise in all manner of things, from fashion to daily essentials, to fine wines and delicacies, to teas and spices, and to flora and fauna. He is also more than capable of participating in discussions on commerce, politics, and international relations.
But on a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you.
When making a purchase, look to haggle.
This is a common understanding among the people of Liyue. No matter what high heavens the store owner praises their product to, no matter its ancient history or classical value, prices are always flexible. Half the stated cost is a good place to start.
But when Zhongli pays up (or rather, calls for someone else to pay up on his behalf), he never looks at the price tag. As long as it catches his eye, Zhongli will pay as much as the owner asks. Indeed, he will even buy it at a premium sometimes.
But for some reason, Zhongli always forgets to bring money.
For small purchases, he has friends to help him out, and large bills he somehow finds ways to have written off.
To those merchants who secretly pride themselves on their powers of flattery, Zhongli is a man of strange proclivities: in truth, he knows a great deal about the value of money and finance, and he also understands the suffering of the people. However, he seems to not understand that poverty is part of the human condition.
Or perhaps it might be said that he cannot imagine himself being poor.
How has such a person not died of hunger yet?
There is no way Zhongli can starve.
Such concerns as profit and loss are beneath his notice. The Seven Nations and the world itself are where his efforts are directed.
As for wealth… He is wealth itself.
He is Morax, the overlord Rex Lapis who rules Liyue, and the Geo Archon of the Seven Archons. The very money that circulates throughout Teyvat, Mora, is named after him.
When night falls and bustling Liyue begins to slumber, he will sometimes stand atop the towering mountains and gaze upon this city, which he made with his own hands.
To the people of Liyue, Rex Lapis has many divine titles.
When he laid down Liyue’s laws by his divine might, he was the God of Contracts. When he minted the first Mora and made Liyue strong by dint of commerce, the merchants revered him as the God of Commerce.
He has lived through countless years and is the eldest of the Seven, and so historians call him the God of History.
Thousands of years ago, the forebears of the citizens of Liyue Harbor struck stones together to start fires and used piled stones to create stoves. These blessings derived from the Geo element led the Geo Archon to gain the title of God of the Stove.
People from other lands tend to call him Morax, though the people of Liyue prefer to use the term Rex Lapis.
But in the hearts of lovers of opera and children, Morax’s on-stage aspect, the all-conquering defender of Liyue — the Warrior God — is the most fascinating.
The delicacies that Rex Lapis discovered while lost in the streets, the plaques inscribed with his handwriting, a famous opera that he once starred in, playing the part of a warrior… Many stories and tales of Liyue are, when studied closely, stories of people visited by their deity at some point — and the citizens of Liyue are most proud indeed of that history.
As the founder of Liyue Harbor, “contracts” are the most important thing to Morax.
From simple monetary exchange and agreements between merchants to the ancient laws that Morax himself laid down, there is no part of city life untouched by “contracts.”
To merchants, “contracts” are the most important standard to which they hold themselves: deadlines, invoices, shipping destinations… Only a refined and strict order can sustain vibrant commerce, which is itself the lifeblood of Liyue Harbor.
Thus the Qixing punish violators of such laws unceasingly, not only to uphold the divine rulings of Morax but also to allow Liyue to maintain its vitality.
Through the millennia, every generation of the Liyue Qixing commits to interpreting the law, including subtle amendments to plug loopholes found in the law. Any loopholes that remain undiscovered are seen by the merchants as “permissible if unaddressed,” and they make killings off such holes until they are discovered and patched up by the Liyue Qixing.
Amid this game of cat-and-mouse, the book that collates such amendments has reached a whopping 279 pages thick.
The person currently responsible for maintaining this book, the Tianquan Ningguang, is secretly (and humorously) referred to as the “Tailor of Liyue,” in honor of her speed in patching these laws up, and for her sharpness of eye.
But no matter how complicated or tangled mortal laws become, one of these stands above all others in the eyes of Rex Lapis.
“The one who reneges on their words shall suffer the Wrath of the Rock.”
Rex Lapis, most ancient of The Seven, has lived far too long.
Rex Lapis still remembers that moment when the final archon took their divine seat, thus ending the Archon War and the era of warring gods. The Seven were a diverse lot and dispersed far and wide, but they all shouldered the burden of guiding humanity.
As time passed, many of The Seven’s titles changed hands, and only two remain of the first Seven: Rex Lapis and the Anemo Archon.
The carefree Barbatos, the Anemo Archon, is the second eldest of The Seven.
When Barbatos first came to Liyue, Rex Lapis believed his fellow archon to have encountered some terrible crisis in pursuit of their duties, thus requiring his aid.
So when Barbatos descended in a gust of wind, the Geo Archon had already prepared himself to receive this neighboring deity and lend what help he may.
But as he looked, the Anemo Archon tossed a wine bottle at him.
“Here’s some wine from Mondstadt. Care for a taste?”
To forsake one’s duty to deliver a single bottle of wine — what a preposterous notion!
Yet the Anemo Archon kept coming to visit, to explore Liyue Harbor, all sorts of strange questions on his lips. The Anemo Archon’s questions knew as little limits as the wine in his hands.
From then on, the first Seven would often gather in Liyue.
Rex Lapis still remembers how those wines tasted.
The world has changed much since then, and all that was once familiar has faded into memory.
The seven seats changed and again were changed, till five of the seven at the table were all departed.
Nor would the duty of guiding humanity be honored by the new archons.
Even the hardest rocks may be worn down after three thousand years.
Nor would the wind ever return again.
One drizzly day, the ancient ruler was strolling about Liyue Harbor, and overheard a merchant telling one of his workers,
“You’ve finished your duties, go ahead and call it a day.”
Long did he stand amidst the milling crowd.
“Have I… already finished my duties?”
During the Archon Wars, every corner of Teyvat was consumed in the fires of conflict. Not only did gods fight amongst themselves, but countless wicked things also sought to expand their domains.
One such type of creature caused no end of woe for the Geo Archon, long before he took that title along with his place among The Seven.
These foul creatures, straight from the murky depths of the ocean abyss, had a squishy exterior, and possessed agile tentacles that would live on even after being cut off, even secreting some thick and revolting fluid in the process.
This alone would have been enough to make them the most monstrous of all creatures, and still it was not the pinnacle of their monstrosity.
What made them so truly terrible was their small size, which gave them the ability to duck into unimaginably small nooks and crannies.
No space was too narrow for them, neither the wooden boards of tables and chairs, nor the seams of windows and doors and curtain folds, nor even books and brushes.
Many a poor soul had, on at least one occasion, unwittingly outstretched their hand, only to quickly retract it in horror with a blood-curdling scream at the sensation of something cold, clammy and damp, while one or more of these despicable creatures came crawling up their arm, leaving a shiny trail behind them…
At the behest of the people of Liyue, Morax agreed to wipe these creatures out. But these parasites upon civilization could not be destroyed like enemies on a battlefield, by simply summoning a storm of stone spears that would shatter the earth and churn the soil….
Still, he was the God of Contracts. His word had to be his bond.
So, he went through the town from house to house with prisons of stone, seizing these creatures one by one and locking them away for good…
This long campaign of pest extermination taught Morax the true meaning of “a burden lifted.”
The grueling campaign itself, and the terrible smell of those ocean creatures’ secretions, left a lasting impression on the deity.
Today, even when he goes out incognito as the mortal man, Zhongli, Morax gives those living, squirming seafood products a wide berth.
…Well, except for dishes where said seafood products have been sliced and diced into oblivion, such as seafood tofu. He’ll quite happily eat those.
Once the Rite of Parting, of which Zhongli was both director and star, was over, the Fatui Harbinger named Signora appeared before him.
By prior contract, she was here to claim the Geo Archon Morax’s Gnosis.
Before the Traveler and the two Fatui Harbingers, Zhongli related the truth that he had established a contract with the Cryo Archon.
In his own words, this was his final “Contract to End All Contracts.”
Yet no matter how one looks at it, the loss of his divine ability to defend Liyue was too great a price to pay.
Even amongst mortals, the basis of a contract is “equivalent exchange.”
And for the God of Contracts, who must have established countless such agreements in his long years of existence, such an important contract must have come with its benefits.
Now, the Geo Archon has given away his Gnosis as his part of the deal.
What, then, must the Cryo Archon have wagered to balance the scales?
To be written…
Despite holding one of the most senior positions in the Fatui as one of the Eleven Harbingers, Childe very much looks like the young adult that he still is.
He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, however, for under the cheerful and confident appearance lies a deadly swordsman.
He is the youngest among the Harbingers, but one of the most dangerous among their number.
That said, Childe doesn’t seem to fit in well with the others.
As a fighter first and foremost, he is quite at odds with this organization of deceit and treachery.
As the youngest Harbinger in the history of the Fatui, Childe is hardly bound by convention, and plays by his own rules accordingly.
Though this lone wolf is not so well-received by his peers and is also at odds with their methods, his cavalier demeanor hides a responsible, watertight meticulousness.
He is a proud man of his word. Even if the promise he makes is absurd, he will never break it.
Be it exterminating all the dragons inside their lairs, venturing into a domain of extreme danger, or single-handedly overthrowing the territory of a nobleman…
He not only keeps his promises, but does so with finesse and surgical precision. As the Harbingers’ vanguard, Childe always appears in the vulnerable underbellies of Snezhnaya’s enemy states, striking as a conflict is about to erupt.
Many myths in Snezhnaya say that Tartaglia has been on the battlefield since he was 14 years old.
Oddly enough, at that young age he already seemed to be a skilled slaughterer with mastery of many forms of martial arts.
But more terrifying than his skill in combat was his passion for it.
Perilous battles would only excite him, and terrifying foes would exhilarate him all the more.
Childe’s arrogance and conceit are derived from honing himself across countless battles, and from unmatched combat experience.
On the other hand, because they fret about the way his quarrelsome personality tends to invite unwanted trouble, the other Harbingers constantly try to get him sent on missions to places as far from Snezhnaya as possible, so that they can avoid the fallout.
The man is incomprehensibly ever in the eye of the storm, and these unusual experiences have also made him quite the show-off who revels in the praise of others.
Unlike other members of the Harbingers, who prefer to keep a low profile, Tartaglia will often go to watch public performances — occasionally even becoming part of the show himself.
Ice fishing has been one of Tartaglia’s hobbies since childhood.
In those days, he was known neither by the names Tartaglia nor “Childe,” as the Fatui call him, but as Ajax, named by his father after some hero’s tale. He and his father would cut holes open upon frozen lakes before sitting beside them and tending to their fishing lines.
This was no easy task, and would sometimes take the entire morning.
But whether it was chiseling away at the thick ice or the long waits in between catches, he was always accompanied by his father’s unending tales of adventure.
These were stories of his father’s adventures from when he was young, and they became the future that Tartaglia secretly envisioned for himself.
So he would pay close attention, putting himself into the shoes of the protagonist of those tales, immersing himself fully in them even as they waited for a fish to bite.
Even after leaving home, Ajax, later to be known as “Childe” Tartaglia, would keep up that hobby of his.
No longer accompanied by the stories of bygone days, fishing instead became an opportunity to train — to hone his endurance, and reflect on combat techniques.
Such long periods of meditation to refine his skills swiftly relegated the question of a successful catch to irrelevance.
Unlike what the rest of the world may think, Tartaglia was not born with his exceptional skills in battle.
But he would never speak to anyone about that critical, fateful encounter of his…
When he was 14, he fled his monotonous life at home with nothing but a shortsword and a bag of bread in hand.
That 14-year-old boy got lost in the snowy forest.
Pursued by bears and wolf packs, he lost his footing and fell into a bottomless crack in the earth’s surface.
There, he witnessed the endless possibilities of another ancient world. There, he would meet a mysterious swordswoman…
Or perhaps one should say that this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy’s heart.
This darkness was something that the Harbinger Childe could never again delve into.
In those three months, the swordswoman taught Tartaglia how to pass through the Abyss unhindered, and more importantly, nurtured the ability to stir up endless havoc from within Ajax’s trouble-mongering nature.
No one knew what happened within that darkness during those three months, nor would Ajax ever speak of this to anyone.
When his worried mother and sisters finally found him in that forest, only 3 days had passed in this world.
Thus did Ajax’s first adventure end, with his now-rusty shortsword in hand.
This would mark the end of his youth and the beginning of his days as a warrior.
By the time he returned home, the young man was no longer the same.
He was no longer frightened and hesitant but had become frivolous and confident. He acted as if this world revolved around him, and as if battle existed for his sake.
Conflict often brings about change, and this capricious, incalculable change attracted Ajax like a revolving kaleidoscope.
In the eyes of his father, that third son that he had so worried about had changed for the worse, bringing much uncalled-for havoc to the seaside village of Morepesok.
Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Ajax had become a nexus of strife, for no matter where he went, fights and squabbles would follow — and he reveled in it.
Ultimately, after a huge brawl was pacified with some difficulty and with some near-fatal misses, his father had no choice but to hand his beloved son over for conscription into the Fatui.
He hoped that the strict military training of the Fatui could hone his son’s temper, but wound up watching fully-armed troops getting the stuffing beaten out of them by a mere child.
This was a great disappointment to his father, but it also caught the attention of Pulcinella, the 5th Harbinger.
Shocked by Ajax’s great strength and curious about how he invariably became the eye of a vortex of discord, Pulcinella inducted Ajax into the Fatui under the pretext of meting out punishment, ordering him to start from the bottom and take up the duty of serving the Tsaritsa.
His insatiable desire for conquest would thus be constantly satiated in fighting for the Fatui, and his ever-burgeoning ego would gorge upon the elation of vanquishing mighty foes…
Until at last, Ajax was chosen to be one of the Fatui Harbingers, donning the mantle of “Childe” Tartaglia and becoming one of the most powerful people in Snezhnaya.
But becoming Tartaglia was far from his end goal. To someone who sought to conquer the world, this was but a tiny step in his journey.
“Dearest Sister, are you all keeping well at home? Has the old man’s headache gotten any better?
Please send my regards to our parents and our siblings.
I’ve sent some wind chill medication over from Liyue Harbor. It’s very effective, and will probably keep him from nagging for a while. It should reach you after a few days.
Apart from our father’s affairs, I naturally haven’t forgotten about gifts for you all.
This letter should come with two kites from Liyue, a rattle drum, two porcelain dolls from Inazuma, and a crate full of various snacks.
And please break it to Anthon that the residents of Liyue are just boring old ordinary humans, like us.
They’re not made of stone, and they don’t even eat stones.
Do not fret for my sake, Tonia, and refrain from making trouble for anyone at home. I will be home soon. When I have seized the seven stars of Liyue and laid them at the feet of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, I will take the first ship home, just as I promised — and you know how I always keep my promises.
Yours faithfully, Your loyal knight.”
Tartaglia’s Delusion is his old badge of honor and the proof of his strength.
He still remembers with perfect clarity the day when he received his Delusion and ascended to become a member of the Harbingers.
As he stood before the cold, stern Tsaritsa, The Jester, the very first of the Fatui, personally pinned this insignia onto him.
It was his reward for slaying many terrible beasts, and a memento of countless battles.
But it was not this that brought Tartaglia joy, for honor is the natural reward of the warrior.
Nor did he pay any mind to the odd looks his new “colleagues” gave him, for the opinions and bellyaches of others meant nothing to him.
The sight of the Tsaritsa on her lofty throne alone stirred the young man’s heart with respect and admiration, not merely because she opened the way for him to find an abundance of looming battles, but also because of the way she looked upon him.
Her gaze was cold but pure, arrogant yet sharp.
She was not only the sacrosanct Cryo Archon but also a true warrior.
Thus did Childe, having received his Delusion, swear an oath of fealty to the one and only Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya.
To be written…
Xiao may have the appearance of a young man, but his true age is something over two thousand years.
Fortunately, people do not tend to underestimate him on the basis of his appearance — one only needs to spend a short time with Xiao to clarify that he is not someone to be trifled with.
Xiao is a man of few words. He is highly dangerous, and has the most piercing gaze you’ve ever seen.
He enjoys a formidable reputation and high level of seniority among the adepti, but is relatively unknown in the mortal realm.
This is inevitable. Xiao is not one of those popular deities to whom people pray for wealth and protection, nor is he a mystical sage of Jueyun Karst to whom pilgrims flock in search of divine wisdom.
No… If any mortal witnesses Xiao unleashing his true power, it is certain to be under the direst of circumstances — and they will be extremely lucky if they survive the ordeal.
This is not because Xiao seeks to harm people. Rather, since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage.
Not that this is a secret worth going around silencing witnesses for.
What exactly is Xiao wrestling with?
The tactful answer would be old grudges, unfulfilled dreams, the lamentations of the vanquished…
The unmitigated truth is that Xiao fights against the remnants of the defeated gods from the Archon War, which took place prior to the rise of The Seven.
Morax defeated those gods and buried their remains beneath the rocks of the earth.
However, gods are immortal. Their consciousness may diminish, but their power and hatred will always remain and spread like poison, relentlessly stirring up chaos for the world and its inhabitants.
Liyue’s rulers, who are aware of the truth regarding Xiao, refer to him in his millennia-long experience as the “Bane of All Evil.”
The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end.
It is also an invisible war that no one will ever witness or thank him for.
Xiao is not this yaksha’s true name, but a name given to him in the interests of his own protection.
Back in a younger, more naive time, a god had gotten a hold of Xiao’s weakness and forced him to serve as their bloodhound, in which capacity he was forced to perform cruel and violent acts.
Many died at his hand, many hopes were crushed, and he was even forced into devouring his victims’ dreams. As much as it pained him to do this, he was helpless to resist.
Finally, on the battlefield of the Archon War, Morax, the Geo Archon,[Note 4] had a fateful encounter with the yaksha’s master.
The current state of the world has already revealed the results of that battle.
Rex Lapis liberated the yaksha and gave him the name “Xiao.”
“In the fables of another land, the name Xiao is that of a spirit who encountered great suffering and hardship. He endured much suffering, as you have. Use this name from now on.”
To repay his debt of gratitude to the Geo Archon, Xiao shouldered the burden of protecting Liyue in the millennia that followed.
His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins.
The only way he could be of service to mortals was in doing battle.
But what could people do for him in return?
No ordinary person would ever stop to ask such a question. The sight of Xiao, even far off in the distance, was intimidating enough to send people instantly running for their lives.
That said… if ever someone did want to show some appreciation for Xiao, there is perhaps one thing they could try.
There is a certain secret agent of the Qixing who is tasked with supporting Xiao in subduing demons. That secret agent runs a front organization called the Wangshu Inn.
Occasionally, Xiao stops by the inn for a bowl of Almond Tofu, and if you could see the look on his face when he eats it… there’s no mistaking it — he clearly loves the stuff.
Nonetheless, it is not the sweet taste that Xiao hankers after. It’s the texture he finds irresistible — apparently, it’s very similar to that of the dreams he used to devour.
What exactly is Xiao wrestling with?
To those in Liyue’s corridors of power, Xiao’s battle is against the evil manifestations produced by the remnants of defeated gods.
However, if you asked Xiao the same question, he may well give you an entirely different answer.
Xiao was once enslaved by an evil god and suffered immensely under his rule until finally regaining his freedom at Rex Lapis’ hand.
Xiao’s powers were highly regarded by the adepti and he seemed to vanquish all manner of evil demons with consummate ease.
But the evil gods also held immense power, and their lust for revenge ran deeper than mere mortals could ever contemplate. Xiao relentlessly slaughtered the endless, impure manifestations of their vengeful souls, but in doing so, he caused them to fracture. Eventually, these fragments of their hatred were able to taint Xiao’s own soul.
The only way to eradicate such hatred is to accept the karmic debt it brings. The magnitude of the bad karma Xiao has accumulated over the years is enough to consume flesh, bone, and soul alike.
And yet, Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory.
No grudge can last a thousand years, nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time.
Xiao has spent many long years alone.
But his battles have never been in vain.
Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself.
What does Xiao fight against?
The Traveler understands very well that Xiao fights against the darkness that threatens Liyue. He fights to defend Liyue.
But who will defend him?
There was once when most of Xiao’s strength was spent fighting from dusk till dawn, with him emerging victorious by a mere hair.
The reeds in the fields had been sliced to ribbons in the fierce fighting. Plucking his spear from where it had been planted in the ground, Xiao began the trek home.
Well, one says “home” — yet, where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield.
Long exhausted, Xiao felt the divine hatred that tainted his body take effect.
Limitless hate flooded his senses, and he fell to the ground in agony.
But it was also at that moment that the pain vanished without warning.
This was not by Xiao’s own strength, for he had been rescued by the sound of a flute.
The clear, lovely sound of the flute came over the mountains and rivers, carried on the wind to where he lay.
And clear it continued to ring till the first light of dawn brought with it the startled flight of distant birds.
It protected Xiao, massaging his wild senses, and giving him a moment’s peace.
Who was playing this music? Xiao was curious but did not pursue the matter. For he already had something approaching an answer.
The last person who could help him was one of The Seven themselves. So this person, too, must be—
A scholar of the Sumeru Akademiya once did folklore studies in Liyue, the result of which was a book called “Tour of the Land of Liyue,” with separate editions being available in Sumeru and Liyue.
“Hidden Diamond and Cloudy Moon: Wonders and Folklores of Liyue” is the version available in Liyue, and has had many mystical and magical portions removed.
The “Ode to Windborne Wraith” is one of the mystical chapters that remain recorded within the complete version at the Akademiya.
The document mentions that though the yaksha were mighty and upright among the adepti, they were bound by their own karma to suffer great horrors and tribulations. As such, they wandered the land in a state of unending suffering.
The chapter lists many methods of comforting the yaksha, such as food offerings, holy chants, and the like. These would appease the yaksha and help them to continue defending the peace.
As noble warriors among adepti, the yaksha would often descend upon the battlefield in person. However, as conflicts grew over the millennia, they have almost been wiped out. Today, large statues of the yaksha subduing demons remain within Liyue’s borders, but they have had their features destroyed.
By the by, the language used in that text was so meandering, and its contents so dense, that it sold far fewer copies than the Teyvat Travel Guide and the international cultural summaries written by El Musk.
All adepti are known as the “mighty and illuminated” adepti, and this “illumination” refers to the light of a third “eye” that they possess: a Vision.
But do adepti receive their Visions as a form of acknowledgment from Celestia, like humans do?
Xiao no longer remembers the moment he received his Vision. To humans, this would be an unforgettable event. But for him, this was just the beginning of his endless battle.
The thing that Xiao truly cannot forget is something different.
There are a great many human festivals, and few remember the stories behind them.
The greater part of these days coincide with occasions where man-eating monsters were defeated by the adepti host. People imitated their deeds and staged exorcism rituals to remember their ancient heroism, with these practices eventually evolving into celebratory festivals.
The hatred and residual might of many of the gods defeated by Morax throughout Liyue will sometimes erupt with abnormal force amid their half-awake, half-dreaming state. Among them, the eruption that takes place during the Lantern Rite is the most extreme in scale.
Xiao has his mission to perform the time-honored “Nuo Dance of Evil Conquering,” and so he fights night and day during the Lantern Rite. Thus, he has come to hate it.
Now, Xiao did not consider battle dangerous. It was due to his hard work that Liyue was kept safe. People lit their lanterns, and the blessed lights shone across the night sky and the nearshore.
At that moment, another special feeling blossomed in Xiao’s heart. Loneliness? Peace? Or was it his fears for the future? The young-seeming adeptus searched his heart, only to find no answers.
To be written…
The 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, a young lady managing the parlor’s operations. Despite her position, she’s an amiable person who puts on no airs.
Her antics are as plentiful as the sand on Yaoguang Shoal. She never ceases to shock people with her countless bizarre ideas.
Hu Tao may seem like all play and no work, spending every free moment on leisure and being widely considered a laissez-faire business owner.
It is only during funeral ceremonies, when she personally leads her undertakers through lamp-lit alleys, that she shows her dignified and solemn side.
Funeral ceremonies allow mortals to leave this world with dignity.
And Liyue’s Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is said to be painting the last strokes on the scrolls of people’s lives in the most respectful way.
Traditional funerals include multiple steps such as holding a wake, burial, putting up a memorial plaque… All of which are subject to strict rules.
Regardless of their social standing and level of wealth, all who depart deserve a ceremony that would do them honor. This is the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s client service philosophy.
One would think that such a reputable organization ought to be led only by an individual of utmost learning and sagacity.
Yet the heavy mantle of the 77th Director has fallen on the shoulders of a young lady like Hu Tao.
She has got quite a reputation in Liyue. Whenever someone mentions Hu Tao, their neighbors find it extremely hard to navigate the conversation.
Although she is widely praised for her wit and shrewdness, her eccentric notions are not as welcome, as she often lets her imagination run wild.
As a three-year-old, she would read through volumes of classic texts while doing handstands. At six, she would cut classes and fall asleep in coffins. When she was eight, she started living in the parlor and learning the etiquette of funeral ceremonies…
One would never use the word “measured” to describe her behavior.
During her teenage years, Hu Tao was tasked with conducting a funeral ceremony for the first time.
The parlor’s undertakers and consultants were anticipating her debut with their stomachs in knots as if they were suspended over the peaks of Jueyun Karst.
Fortunately, Hu Tao treats the parlor’s operations with the utmost importance and is always looking to grow her business.
“At the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the living give us Mora to see the dead on their way. We have a responsibility to both parties, so we gotta make sure both sides are happy.”
When it comes to the parlor’s rules, Hu Tao knows them all like the back of her hand.
Each day when the parlor closes its doors, Hu Tao invites consultants from different walks of life to pass their teachings on to the undertakers.
“The funeral tradition is like science. It cannot be performed based on impressions and personal habits.”
Of all the lecturers, Zhongli is the most revered one. As such, his lessons have proven to be the most effective in cultivating the competence of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s undertakers.
Despite often being teased by Hu Tao due to his old-fashioned style, he is also the person that she trusts the most.
Apart from that, Hu Tao always instructs her undertakers to respect their clients’ wishes and not insist on any particular form of funeral.
“Some clients want nothing more than a peaceful ceremony, some opt for a more lively style of event. There are also wealthier clients who would request a funeral arrangement of the most pompous kind. The services we provide have to be tailor-made according to the clients’ needs.”
Ever since Hu Tao took over, the parlor’s operations have been solid and reliable, with ceremonies conducted so tactfully that quite a few superstitious people in Liyue have changed their attitudes towards funerals.
Even so, Hu Tao still has a tendency to wander off, disappearing as soon as her undertakers are busy listening to lectures.
The hobbies and interests of this young director are just as eccentric as her personality, and yet it is difficult to say with certainty if those activities are of a purely leisurely nature.
Hu Tao’s shadow can be seen in the moonlit docks or at the highest, most precarious viewpoints in the mountains, where she’s likely to take in the scenery and shape her thoughts into beautiful poetry.
She loves to roam freely at night, looking for inspiration. When it strikes her, no matter where she is, she cannot help but compose a poem on the spot.
If they are particularly lucky, the traveling merchants taking respite around the Huaguang Stone Forest can spot a mysterious girl keeping herself amused in solitude.
Hu Tao can play a four-player card game accompanied by no one for hours on end.
That said, the joys of engaging in such activities remain a mystery to all but Hu Tao herself.
The Ministry of Civil Affairs is guarded by two life-like stone lions, a symbol of power and authority.
However, Hu Tao, who happened to be passing by the ministry building one day, saw them in a different light. At first, she examined the lions with a thoughtful look, but soon enough, her pensive face gave way to a wide smile, as she slapped them on the fore-paws.
From that moment on, Hu Tao often visited and petted the stone statues. Not only would she talk to them, but also give them pet names — Whiskers for the one on the left and Mittens for the one on the right.
On occasion, she would even bring a bucket of water and a big brush to bathe them, each move so careful and deliberate that one might think that they were her actual pets.
As it happened, another feline, a living and breathing calico cat, could be found enjoying the local delicacies in front of Xinyue Kiosk, not too far from the ministry building. One day, some city folk came to play with the restaurant’s favorite, providing an interesting foil for Hu Tao’s peculiarities. Met with befuddled gazes of the bystanders, Hu Tao showed unwavering confidence.
“Sure, your kitty’s cute, but the same can be said about my Whiskers and Mittens. Their fur might be harder, but they’re still just as fluffy! Any animal that brings people joy may become a pet. And when it comes to majestic looks, your little fur-ball simply can’t measure up to my lions!”
Suffice to say that this explanation was met with even greater consternation from the onlookers.
Yet the group of people shocked the most and most often by Hu Tao’s antics were the ministry guards. Soft footsteps could often be heard in front of the building at around midnight. Initially, the guards suspected that it had been a thief preparing to rob officials. To their unceasing surprise, it would turn out to just be a young lady playing with the stone lions.
The guards were faced with an even bigger conundrum when, once everyone had reluctantly got used to her presence, Hu Tao discontinued her visits.
That meant that the responsibility for cleaning the statues fell on the guards’ shoulders once again.
Subsequently, they decided to keep guard by the lions for many days, anticipating Hu Tao’s return. Once they finally had the opportunity to ask her why she would not visit anymore, they received the most absurd of answers.
“Whiskers and Mittens are adults now and can take care of themselves! Excuse me, I’m running late for my heart-to-heart with a Statue of The Seven regarding the meaning of life!”
Not long after her initial meeting with the little zombie, Hu Tao decided that, as her self-proclaimed true friend, she should grant Qiqi eternal peace.
Hu Tao would go on to kidnap Qiqi several times following much deliberation in every instance, including calculating the most auspicious time for the ceremony, aiming to follow the standard procedure of cremation, after which she would place Qiqi in a tomb on the outskirts of the city.
In fact, she would have succeeded already if not for Baizhu’s timely interventions.
Each time the Bubu Pharmacy’s owner managed to catch up with them, Hu Tao had already had Qiqi packed in a bag, with only her head sticking out, staring in utter confusion as Hu Tao was vigorously digging a hole for the pyre.
Afterwards, Hu Tao sent Qiqi an apology letter, in which she expressed deep regret that she had not been able to lay Qiqi to rest fast enough.
In Hu Tao’s eyes, Qiqi passed away a long time ago, but has been trapped in this world and cannot free herself of her eternal suffering.
Baizhu, for his part, had grown ever more relentless in his pursuit of eternal life after meeting Qiqi. This act of defiance against the cycle of life and death was unacceptable to Hu Tao.
She wanted to bury Qiqi not only out of consideration for her friend but also to restore the natural order.
But Qiqi could not disagree more, as she was afraid of death and disliked Hu Tao for her attempts.
Because the struggle between Hu Tao and her had been going on for so long, Qiqi has experienced a breakthrough. She has started to remember places where she might hide to avoid being captured by Hu Tao.
Perhaps it was due to those desperate survival efforts that Hu Tao decided to do something unusual and dig deeper into Qiqi’s past.
The story of her accident and the mystery of the adepti… That series of coincidences filled Hu Tao’s heart with hesitation.
Since Qiqi’s will to live is so strong, she should not be forced to move on. Given the circumstances, she could only be treated as a rare exception that eludes the natural laws.
Ever since, Hu Tao’s attitude towards Qiqi has changed drastically, to the point that she would pamper her.
Unfortunately, the damage has been done and Hu Tao has become Qiqi’s bugbear. The little zombie may need several years more to let go of her grievances.
Hu Tao is not, in fact, best known for her role as Director, but for her other great accomplishment: the creation of poetry.
She dubs herself the “versemonger of the darkest alleys,” and free verse flows forth untamed from her mouth whenever she has free time to be out on the streets.
The “Hilitune” is Hu Tao’s most famous work, well-loved not only by the people of the harbor, but ever on the lips of children as far as Qingce Village as well.
Hobbyists and critics alike were greatly surprised by the simple but profound originality of the “Hilitune” and its creation, and went to Wanwen Bookhouse in droves to search for the works of this great poet. Unfortunately, Hu Tao’s anthologies, named “Fiddlesticks” and “Of Common Lives” respectively, have yet to be published.
Xingqiu, ever immersed in books, also wanted to meet this strange person, and so chose an auspicious date to visit, bringing a gift with him.
The two hit it off immediately, and they exchanged pointers and impromptu poetry in Wangsheng’s main hall — and when faced with the poetry of Xingqiu’s traditional, artistic bent, Hu Tao could always return in kind with some strange and marvelous verse.
And there was meaning in the chaos, indeed, a rhythm to the bizarre that anyone could perceive, and it was catchy, too.
Thus did she “beat the old master with untrained fists,” leaving Xingqiu at a loss for words.
At length, the poetic spar ended amiably, and they have been friends ever since, reading and composing poetry with one another when they have the time to meet.
Over time, Chongyun, too, was pulled in to serve as an umpire, their laughter filling the streets.
The poems born from these sessions would also be recorded by bystanders.
If ever you should hear a pair of matched verses, one strict and the other playful, you are most likely to have heard one created jointly by Hu Tao and Xingqiu.
This hat is somewhat on the hard side, and the insignia of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor adorns its front.
It is said that this hat was passed from the 75th Director to Hu Tao. However, that director was large, musclebound, and had a head at least two sizes larger than hers.
Ultimately, Hu Tao had to spend an entire day and night to modify the hat with her own hands such that its dimensions would fit hers. When she meets others, she tells them: this hat is magical, upholding good and repelling evil, and is a bringer of peace!
The undertakers laugh and leave it at that, but the 77th Director clearly does treasure that hat.
No matter the rain or storm, or if Hu Tao returns late covered in muck, that hat will remain spotless and clean.
The plum blossom that adorns the side of the hat is plucked from a plum tree that Hu Tao planted and grew herself.
Its creation process is as follows: pluck and air-dry, then paint, lacquer, and outline carefully before sun-drying for three days and voila — a beautiful accessory, soft to the touch and bearing a delicate fragrance.
This tale should begin with the funeral of Hu Tao’s grandfather.
Ten days before the funeral itself, Old Hu had passed away following a bout of illness. For its 75th Director, Wangsheng Funeral Parlor held a grand funeral, in accordance with the last wishes of the old man himself, to be conducted by Hu Tao.
Only thirteen at the time, Hu Tao, who would later go on to become the Director in turn, made all the arrangements herself to the highest standard, greatly impressing the undertakers.
After the funeral, the thirteen-year-old Hu Tao grabbed her traveler’s bag and crept out alone in the dead of night. In her bag were only a few rations, some water, and a means to create some light. She was headed to a mysterious and seldom-seen frontier.
Heading straight from Wuwang Hill, one may arrive at the “border.” It is the line that separates life and death, the secrets of which have been managed by Wangsheng Funeral Parlor for generations. According to legend, it is a place where the souls of past relatives and the spirits of those with unfulfilled aspirations linger. For Hu Tao, this journey was a chance to see her grandfather once more before he departed forever.
For two days she journeyed unceasingly before finally arriving at her destination, yet was unable to locate her grandfather upon arrival. Between the innumerable spirits she walked, but not one of them resembled the old man.
She stayed there the whole day before falling asleep in exhaustion, awakening to a night sky and heavy dew. Around her were gathered a few lone spirits, clapping and laughing:
“Silly girl, why would Old Hu be here of all places? What were you thinking, looking for your relatives here?”
Not one to be swayed so easily, Hu Tao continued to wait, day after day. Her rations gradually disappeared and her water supplies drained away, but her grandfather did not appear. In the end, it was a little old woman who came to her.
She laid eyes on the exhausted Hu Tao and smiled as she spoke: “Look at your stubbornness, you’re exactly like Old Hu. It’s a shame, but none of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor Directors would ever linger here. You come from a family of plain speakers, so let me return the favor… Go back. Go back to where you came from.”
The old woman bid farewell to Hu Tao, before passing over the border and into the distance. Hu Tao watched as the figure of the mysterious woman grew smaller and disappeared, as a sense of doubt tinged with relief manifested itself.
At last she came to the conclusion: her grandfather’s absence was due to him having passed over the border as soon as he’d arrived, to the place where he was bound. He had been open and honest in life, leaving behind no regrets, so was it right for his departure to be framed in regretful terms?
With a smile, she set forth on the return journey.
The faraway moon had been casting a thin light on the way over but had now been replaced by the bright light of dawn. As she walked, Hu Tao thought of a saying that her grandfather had often quoted: “Live in life, die in death. Follow your heart, do what you can.”
It was noon when Hu Tao arrived home. She climbed over the wall into the rear courtyard, went straight to her room, and unpacked her travel bag.
With her food and water long gone, and the rest of her belongings unpacked, the bag she had taken for empty instead contained a colorful Vision. Just when had it arrived?
As one of the few living that had dared to visit the border, perhaps Hu Tao’s actions had moved some unknown god.
Perhaps this then constituted a heavenly gift… the ultimate recognition of her strength.
To be written…
Throughout its long history, Liyue has never had a lack of rumors and myths regarding all manner of evil spirits and demons. And regardless of the truth of such rumors, someone has to do something about them.
Chongyun was born into a renowned family of exorcists, and has possessed a natural ability to drive away evil spirits from a young age due to his pure-yang spirit. His powers of exorcism are far beyond the norm: his mere presence is sufficient to scatter evil spirits.
However, this has proven to be an inconvenience for Chongyun himself, for though he has undertaken hundreds of successful exorcisms, he has never come face-to-face with a single ghost or demon.
Chongyun believes in his heart that a true exorcist should exorcize evil with charms and swordsmanship. This natural ability that he has… is just not orthodox.
Therefore, he has dedicated himself to the study of exorcism techniques and martial arts, as well as seeking the haunts of evil spirits to prove himself an able and professional exorcist even without his unique physical condition.
Yet, when will that condition stop being a stumbling block on his path to self-realization?
Throughout its long history, Liyue has never had a lack of rumors and myths regarding all manner of evil spirits and demons. And regardless of the truth of such rumors, someone has to do something about them.
Chongyun was born into a renowned family of exorcists, and has possessed a natural ability to drive away evil spirits from a young age due to his pure-yang spirit. His powers of exorcism are far beyond the norm: his mere presence is sufficient to scatter evil spirits.
However, this has proven to be an inconvenience for Chongyun himself, for though he has undertaken hundreds of successful exorcisms, he has never come face-to-face with a single ghost or demon.
Chongyun believes in his heart that a true exorcist should exorcize evil with charms and swordsmanship. This natural ability that he has… is just not orthodox.
Therefore, he has dedicated himself to the study of exorcism techniques and martial arts, as well as seeking the haunts of evil spirits to prove himself an able and professional exorcist even without his unique physical condition.
Yet, when will that condition stop being a stumbling block on his path to self-realization?
However, calling his mannerisms and style “frosty” couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Due to the abundance of yang energy in his constitution, he is constantly troubled by increased body temperature and sudden urges or impulses.
He has tried everything to alleviate the issues both physically and psychologically.
His methods include not drinking hot water, not eating hot or spicy food, wearing light clothes, not getting into arguments, keeping himself from being angered, staying indoors on sweltering days, and always bringing a parasol when on the job.
In short, he attempted to stay away from everything that might aggravate his condition.
Despite all this, his yang energy did not subside a whit.
A little depressed, Chongyun began to wrestle with his own body. When he heard about an evil spirit in Dragonspine, he made for the peak wearing only a shirt.
Though it was hard enough to keep himself warm, he still felt this insufficient. Digging a hole in a frozen lake, he jumped in and soaked in the icy water while waiting for the evil spirit to show itself.
After staying in the lake for half a day, he finally caught a glimpse of his target.
However, after pursuing it down to the mountainside, he discovered it was only a snow rabbit that had been frightened off by his flying swords and floating charms.
The fever that he ran afterward lasted far longer than it would in a normal person.
Chongyun’s pure-yang spirit is not only a huge obstacle in his path as an exorcist, but a constant daily hassle.
He must be extra careful to stay away from “heaty” things, to which he is very sensitive, or risk his yang energy and emotions going out of control.
Chongyun’s clan once held a celebration party at Wanmin Restaurant. And though he waited until all the dishes had gone cold, he did not expect the tender rice balls to be stuffed with Jueyun Chili.
After but a single bite… Chongyun had no recollection of what happened next.
However, according to the victim, chef Xiangling of Wanmin Restaurant, many unforgettable things happened.
Chongyun first jumped onto the reception desk and shouted, “Everything’s on me tonight!” — never mind that he did not actually have any money on him.
He then began to chat with customers at other tables as if they were old pals, bragging to them of how incredible his clan’s exorcist arts were, never forgetting to taste other people’s dishes on the tables before he left.
Lastly, he claimed to have sensed an evil spirit in Wanmin Restaurant. This he did not find, but he did slap a charm on Xiangling’s forehead and chase her around with his sword.
Afterwards, Chongyun scrimped and saved for an entire month to pay Wanmin Restaurant back for the mess and any damages he might have caused; he also gave Xiangling an evil-warding talisman that he carved by hand.
But Xiangling, for her part, didn’t mind Chongyun’s “transgressions” at all. Instead, she felt that the crazy Chongyun was the real Chongyun, without any personal walls up.
Chongyun has had the privilege of meeting a true friend in his long journey as an exorcist: Xingqiu.
In contrast to the hard-working Chongyun, Xingqiu was naturally gifted, and had a more flexible way of looking at problems.
After learning about Chongyun’s troubles, Xingqiu came up with a possible solution.
“If you can’t reduce the effects of your yang energy, what if you sought out an evil spirit that is immune to it?”
This was a eureka moment for Chongyun. Since then, Chongyun has no longer sought to alleviate his condition. Instead, he now tries to get Xingqiu to come with him to find such a spirit.
“What? Sightings of the legendary Aoyin near the Sea of Clouds? Leave it to me!”
“The old house at Feiyun Slope has been taken over by an evil spirit? My bad. I’ll attend to it right away.”
“A master exorcist is staying over at Wangshu Inn? I could learn a lot from him… Hmm, better go with a gift.”
Xingqiu usually just makes these “leads” up as he goes, and thanks to his “advice,” Chongyun often comes back empty-handed, blaming his bad luck.
“I tried my best to look for it, and even spent quite a sum purchasing more intelligence on that evil spirit — but I wound up missing it by a hair anyway,” Chongyun says, abashed.
If Xingqiu has time to spare when such an occasion arises, he will encourage Chongyun, treat him to some new cold dishes he has found and then set off to get Chongyun’s swindled money back.
A warm and reliable companion, indeed! — So Chongyun thinks at such moments. Who could he possibly trust, if not his fine friend Xingqiu?
In truth, Chongyun wishes that he could fit in more, but he is often forced to reject the invitations of others on account of his need to control his abundance of yang energy.
Of these practices, he finds one particularly incomprehensible: hot springs.
Bathing and “relaxing” in steaming-hot water? Even the sound of that scares him a hundred times more than freezing in a lake on Dragonspine.
However, he has also heard everyone sing yearning praises of these hot springs, praising their comfort, and asserting that they become more so the hotter they are, and that one is filled with energy for a whole week afterward.
Chongyun still doesn’t know if this is true or if people are just teasing him.
And he would have dared to try it out, if not for the ever-present problem of his pure-yang spirit.
Xingqiu once asked him this:
“If you were able to master your yang energy and rid the world of all evil spirits someday…what would you do after that?”
This seemingly off-the-cuff remark troubled Chongyun deeply.
Perhaps he had indeed missed out on a lot in life on account of his condition.
But he doesn’t regret spending time. If one way of living doesn’t work, he just needs to find himself another — and in any case, he already has his answer.
If that day comes, well, he’ll go to the hot springs then.
The tomes that Chongyun’s family has passed down from generation to generation detail every evil spirit they have ever subdued.
From little critters to the monstrous demons found in tall tales of horror, their varieties are almost dazzling.
It was one such terrifying story that inspired Chongyun’s vow to rid the world of evil spirits.
But as far as he is concerned, inheriting these books has… also proved inconvenient.
Other than textual descriptions, the books also contain illustrations of said evil spirits that carefully detail their unique characteristics — even if the artist may not have been the greatest talent.
But Chongyun has never seen an evil spirit in his life. Unwilling to break with this artistic tradition, he was at a loss.
Ultimately, he would attempt to use his imagination to draw some suitably strange images.
—Thus did the Field Guide to Demons and Beasts grow ever more exotic. Best not to think too deeply about that seven-winged, five-legged chicken-beast or that half-fish, half-hilichurl demon.
“Those other exorcists at least have the courtesy to wave their swords or tack on some talismans. You just sat here for a while, and now you say you’re done, and that I should pay you? Who are you trying to fool?”
Chongyun faced a great deal of suspicion when he first took up the role of an exorcist.
He immediately faced one big hurdle: it was a lot easier to prove that “evil spirits are present” than not.
Of course he would seem a charlatan even compared to “exorcists” who just went through the motions.
With all the ability in the world but no place to use it, looked on with suspicion, and needing to suppress any passionate impulses…
Those who eventually apologized to him were also few.
But even so, Chongyun would not go with the flow, and use some fancy act to cover for his real method of conducting exorcism.
Even with his unique composition posing countless obstacles for him, Chongyun has never once considered giving up.
One day, he will become the greatest exorcist in Liyue, control his abundance of yang energy, and rid the world of evil spirits.
Perhaps it was this resolve that earned him the gods’ favor — that said, the Vision granted to Chongyun was one of “Cryo” rather than “Pyro.”
As to which of his goals it was that the Vision responded to, that is also a mystery.
To be written…
This quest triggers when talking to Katheryne in Mondstadt. Avoid her until you are ready to start
Rosaria is one of the sisters of Mondstadt’s Church of Favonius.
Though she is just as much a woman of the cloth as the likes of Barbara and Jilliana, people tend to make a mental distinction between Rosaria and other members of the clergy.
While she might dress the part — at least, to a certain extent — her speech and actions do not reflect her office in the slightest.
Furthermore, she displays even less reverence towards the gods than the ordinary citizens, and she routinely skips her various church engagements.
She comes, goes, and acts in solitude, and if she were ever to make an appearance in the Cathedral, it would be to smoke in the rearmost pew.
Such a lone wolf is Rosaria that perhaps she should be considered a clergywoman in name only.
If Rosaria has been lectured once, she has been lectured a thousand times before concerning her unorthodox behavior.
For some reason, however, she has never faced any serious consequences for her transgressions. She does not work together with her church colleagues and only rarely shows up to celebratory events in the city.
The strange and mysterious Rosaria moves about almost like a wisp of black smoke — blink, and you’ll miss her as she disappears into thin air.
Her social interactions are never more than superficial, and the rest of the time she keeps herself to herself.
However, Sister Victoria would say that the ever good-natured Barbara is one person who has always made the effort to get close to Rosaria.
“Please don’t smoke in the Cathedral…” “Could you try to attend the ceremony on time next time…?”
“And… Hey, come back, I’m still talking to you!”
Barbara is forever anxiously chasing after Rosaria, urging her to complete her various daily tasks.
Yet even when faced with Barbara, the beloved idol of Mondstadt, Rosaria remains completely unmoved.
Surely her heart can’t be completely made of stone?
Rosaria’s movements are unpredictable. She often leaves without notifying anyone and can be gone for up to several days on end.
During these times, none of her church colleagues know where to find her.
One of the sisters who took it upon herself to observe Rosaria once groused that “even a stray cat should at least give you notice before running off…”
Rosaria uses these disappearances to do work that only she can do in corners unseen by others.
An unfamiliar merchant, a suspicious traveler — are these people threats to Mondstadt?
She investigates, shadows, and if necessary, interrogates.
If they must disappear, then Rosaria shall be the last person they meet.
Such dark work, which cannot see the light of day, is to be done by her hand alone.
She always sets out after the sun has set, finishing her work in one fell swoop. Sometimes, if she makes it back by the crack of dawn, she gets to usher in the day ahead with a glass of breakfast wine.
The people of Mondstadt live in the golden sunlight, but Rosaria dwells under the silver moonlight.
It is a cold, piercing light… just like that of the ice she forms with her Cryo abilities.
“There are some things that young people need not know,” Rosaria thinks.
Though, in her eyes, “young people” means all citizens of Mondstadt who live in the light of the sun, regardless of their age.
Like a puff of smoke, the lackadaisical Rosaria is impossible to pin down.
Nevertheless, once she takes on a job, she can be relied on to handle it with the utmost professionalism.
“Lazy” is the last word that anyone would use to describe her ruthless interrogations of suspicious individuals.
She also possesses exceptional strength and knows the weaknesses of the human body like the back of her hand — and has no reservations about using this knowledge to kill.
People know her as the lazy, chain-smoking sister, but behind the scenes, she is a formidable purveyor of justice.
A strange fate for one who ostensibly basks in the light of the gods.
What led her to become a blood-soaked slayer? Why does she stay silent while others praise the gods for their protection?
Perhaps it should come as no surprise that Rosaria was not born and bred in Mondstadt.
“A city that is fortunate enough to be boring always needs someone to do the dirty work…”
Rosaria stubs her cigarette out as she speaks in her characteristically languid manner.
“And as far as I’m concerned, the things I deal with are far simpler than living the life of a traditional sister.”
Rosaria may not be one to attend prayer meetings, but that does not mean she doesn’t have her own theological viewpoints.
In her view, freedom is the spiritual pillar of Mondstadt’s people, and it is the very thing that caused her to end up here in the first place.
Rosaria was born in a remote mountain village, but was taken from her home shortly after birth by the very same bandits who drenched it in blood.
Raised by those crooks, she learned how to fight, sometimes thieving, other times doing odd jobs for the crew.
She was their servant, but also their tool, a crook, yet still a child.
She fought against outsiders and her comrades alike, and growing up was a constant battle for survival against the hunger and cold.
Rosaria’s youth was just like Mondstadt’s sunset — blood-red from horizon to horizon, and so fleeting that night had fallen before she’d had the chance to stop and take in the view.
Ultimately, the bandit crew was wiped out by the Knights of Favonius. As their youngest member, Rosaria was judged to have a chance of rehabilitation.
Grand Master Varka brought her to Mondstadt. Sincerely hoping that she might someday fit in here, he advised her:
“Go to the Cathedral and be cleansed by the light of our archon. You still have the chance to turn your fate around and live a normal life.”
But Varka had not counted on Rosaria constantly skipping classes and dodging hymnal.
She would rather hunt in the wild than settle into a life of dutiful service as a sister. As far as she was concerned, the golden sunlight was not so much cleansing as blinding.
For Rosaria had long since come to understand that she was a child of the moonlight, and it was inevitable that she would someday return to the embrace of darkness.
Rosaria, the Church’s number one truant, became infamous for her absence very early on.
“Miss Rosaria, please, show a little more circumspection in your actions! You are a member of the Church. How is it appropriate that you simply never turn up for hymn practice?”
“Please calm down, Sister Ophila. Miss Rosaria, I’m told that you have never attended a single one of your compulsory classes. Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Mother Maria, please look at this… Rosaria’s theological essay is an utter mess!”
“Miss Rosaria, if I may ask frankly… do you intend to do any work at all here at the Church?”
“No. I’ve already found other work.”
Rosaria never showed so much as a hint of anxiety in any of these exchanges. What’s more, it was true — she had indeed found other work for herself, and much darker work at that.
The unexpected twist was that she would ultimately end up doing this work under the aegis of the Church.
Rosaria the novice did not leave the clergy, but instead became Sister Rosaria without much incident.
Nevertheless, when she’s not on a mission, she does everything she can to avoid attending church activities, instead heading to the taverns to drink or scaling the city walls to view the scenery.
And when she simply cannot escape a church engagement, you can be sure that she will be the first to leave.
The instant the workday is done, Rosaria vanishes.
Whether by bright day or dark night, there is one principle that she will never transgress: no overtime.
A journal with a white cover. The words “Church of Favonius” are inscribed on the cover.
The handwriting is beautiful, but the content is the most of the most banal variety imaginable.
“Dandelion Wine — now eighty percent off!”
“Fisherman’s Toast — an incredible flavor at an unbelievable price!”
“Crazy discounts on Wheat — ask at the counter and we’ll grind it into Flour for you.”
“Buy three Tomatoes and get one free!”
“Fresh Small Lamp Grass! Use it to light up your bathroom! Come on, Sir, have a look!”
There is something incongruous about a random assortment of marketplace cries and advertising slogans having been penned by such a graceful and elegant hand.
This journal is a relic from Rosaria’s novice days.
Clearly, she must have skipped class and headed to the rooftops on the merchant street, bathing in the sun, listening to the eclectic cries of the street vendors, and committing them to paper.
Rosaria’s Vision came to her on a particularly frigid night.
Things were getting desperate for the bandit gang — people were starving and the food supplies were dwindling.
Never able to eat her fill, Rosaria was driven by hunger to flee into the freezing wind rather than continue another second with the hard labor she was forced to endure.
One of the elders of the gang pursued her and brought her back.
He was the very person who had taken her from the village of her birth, and the one who had taught her how to kill.
“Fleeing makes you a traitor, and traitors can only earn their freedom through victory in combat.”
The old bandit tossed Rosaria an old dagger.
“Well, come on then! Kill me, and you can leave this place. I’m long in the tooth now, while you’ve got youth on your side. You can do this, can’t ya?”
No one thought that she would be able to kill him — and yet, the old lion would indeed fall by the newborn cub’s claws.
Thus did the bandits lose an old member and welcome a new one that very night.
The bandits were reluctant to accept Rosaria at first since she had slain one of their own, but they quickly had a change of heart after seeing the Vision in her hand.
Surely, a Vision wielder had to be far stronger than some old coot who was about to kick the bucket right? And she ate less, to boot… They could save some food this way.
Meanwhile, a question crept into Rosaria’s frozen heart:
Did he let me replace him on purpose? …Could a false father have harbored genuine affection for a child he stole so arbitrarily?
To be written…
Barbara is the Deaconess of the Church of Favonius, as well as the shining idol of Mondstadt.
“The sight of Barbara makes all my problems disappear.” This is quite a common saying among the citizens of Mondstadt.
In fact, Barbara can do much more than just put people in a better mood: Her healing powers extend to flesh wounds and other physical ailments.
Barbara is known to have access to miraculous healing powers through her Hydro Vision.
However, Barbara herself knows that hard work is the most miraculous magic of all.
Every citizen of Mondstadt adores Barbara.
However, this has not always been the case. At first, Barbara’s songs sounded strange to the citizens of Mondstadt, and many struggled to see the appeal.
This was because for the longest time, the folk songs of bards were the only popular songs known in Mondstadt.
Fortunately, Mondstadt stayed true to its reputation as the City of Freedom, and the people ultimately embraced the new while continuing to cherish the old.
People accepted Barbara’s songs, and over time her positive energy rubbed off on them. Soon, they could be heard humming her tunes all around Mondstadt.
“Albert, would you stop please! You’re completely out of tune!”
Barbara’s feelings on her own success are mixed.
To the extent that an idol’s duty is to make everyone adore her, she has done a fantastic job.
There is no doubting that she has made the right choice.
However, an idol is also expected to spread joy and relieve people’s spiritual fatigue… Has she really accomplished that?
She sang for blind Glory, encouraging her to believe that her lover would one day return. She sang, too, for sick Anna, promising her that her illness would one day be cured.
Yet, the smiles on their faces never last long after the songs end.
This has led Barbara to become somewhat disillusioned and doubtful.
Barbara has always been a bright and optimistic girl since she was young. Though at times she can be a bit clumsy and mess things up, she always bounces right back and has another go.
Barbara is the complete opposite of her sister, who is seen by all as the pride of her family.
Unlike Barbara, her sister has always been the very definition of success in all aspects.
Initially, all Barbara had ever wanted was to surpass her sister in at least one thing, even if only once.
However, be it swordplay, her grades, or anything else, she was never able to compare.
Even for someone as optimistic as her, she found herself to be upset and down.
“Hard work is the most miraculous magic. But when even that doesn’t work… what then?”
Barbara has never once considered giving up.
Her determination and resilience even surprised her father, Seamus Pegg, the Cardinal of Daybreak.
Barbara only allows herself to be depressed for 30 seconds.
After that, she forces herself to brighten up, no matter what.
“I’m not so good in combat, so I’ll be sure to support those who are.”
Under her father’s counsel, Barbara became a healer.
She is as radiant as the sick and injured are pained.
Her desire to be recognized gradually transformed into a simple desire to help others.
“Thank you” are the two words that Barbara hears most often.
When she feels lost, she will suddenly find that there is someone wanting to hold her hand.
“Thanks for being here with me. I feel so much better.”
To Barbara, the greatest reward is seeing the smiles on people’s faces.
Therefore, whenever she is massaging her swollen calves or drinking tea to care for her sore throat, Barbara recalls all those who have been kind to her.
“It’s the encouragement I receive from others that keeps me going.”
Just maybe, the smiles she receives are proof that her songs really can heal people.
Her ambition to surpass her sister and become the most popular person in all of Mondstadt hasn’t been abandoned by Barbara, it is simply buried deep inside her heart.
“If only I excelled more, perhaps I could be of help to Jean.”
This is what she believes.
“Okay… Barbara, go!”
“…Idol?”
The first time that Barbara heard this strange word, she was visibly confused.
“But… aren’t The Seven the ones that people are supposed to worship?”
“Yes, but not exclusively…” replied Alice, an elder of the Hexenzirkel, as she groomed the young girl for stardom. “Read this, it contains everything you will need to know.”
“Idol Magazine” was the name of the assigned reading material. Barbara had no idea what world this magazine had come from, but by reading it she found out that there was indeed such thing as an “idol,” and that it mainly involved working hard at getting everyone to like you.
She also discovered that an outstanding idol is capable of not just bringing joy to themselves, but also bringing spiritual healing to others through the power of song and dance.
Barbara set about learning one new song after another, dancing to the beat as she went. Finally, she found happiness, and she found it in the smiling faces of others.
Some time later, when Alice anxiously relayed to Barbara that plans for “Teyvat Idols!” were falling through, Barbara was starting to make a name for herself through her performances in Mondstadt.
“Hmm… Well, if I’m the only one left… I guess you can leave it to me to define what it really means to be an idol!”
Driven by this ever so slightly selfish ambition to spread joy and healing to others, Barbara is slyly swotting up on new tunes behind the scenes to this very day.
The story of how Barbara obtained her Vision is hardly the typical tale of high-stakes heroism.
She had just joined the church and was looking after a little boy with a high and persisting fever.
Nothing Barbara could think of would console the boy and bring an end to his relentless tears.
Someone remarked that while the boy had already taken his medicine, there was no way to cure the pain of missing one’s family.
Another suggested that Barbara sing a song for the boy to raise his spirits.
Barbara had never sung a song in her life up until this point, but how could she shy away from it in a moment like this?
“Never having sung before is no reason to abandon a child in their time of need,” Barbara thought to herself.
And so, Barbara took the boy in her arms and sang him a song: a lullaby, the only song she knew.
It was an unceremonious beginning to her singing career. After quickly realizing that she barely knew any of the words, she had to resort to humming the tune instead.
Nevertheless, her voice began to soothe the child, and so she kept singing. She sang the same song, over and over again, until her throat was dry and her voice was hoarse. Finally, the boy fell asleep. Exhausted, Barbara lay down by the wall and fell straight asleep herself.
Early the next morning, Barbara awoke to discover that the boy’s fever had come down. Perhaps it was because she had sung for him, or perhaps it had something to do with the Vision which had mysteriously appeared next to her hand at some point during the night.
Barbara was not preoccupied with the Vision, however. It was the sight of the boy smiling once again that filled her heart with joy.
Barbara received her Vision for the simple but beautiful wish that took hold in her heart that night: A dream of healing the sick through the power of song.
To be written…
This quest triggers upon approach. Avoid the gold marker on the map until you are ready to start
In an unpredecented turn of events, the Traveler reunites with their sibling, but only for a moment. Now the leader of the Abyss Order, the Sibling gives the Traveler a new mission: to travel across all of Teyvat and discover the true nature of this mysterious world.
Eula’s role within the Knights of Favonius is Captain of the Reconnaisance Company.
The nature of her work means that she rarely sets foot in the city — she spends most of her time out in the wild, leading her team of scouts as they hunt down Abyss Order operatives and other monsters.
Known as the Spindrift Knight, Eula wields her blade with consummate skill, but perhaps more importantly, she is well-versed in strategy and possesses great courage and excellent intuition. Grand Master Varka had nothing but the highest praise for her, even declaring once that she was the Dandelion Knight’s equal on the battlefield.
On the face of it, to have two such outstanding knights attending to the defense of Mondstadt in a single generation should be a cause for nothing but celebration. But dig a little deeper and there is a fundamental difference between Jean and Eula.
For Eula is a descendant of the once-aristocratic Lawrence Clan. The blood that flows through her veins once flowed through those of Mondstadt’s oppressors during one of the darkest periods of the city’s history.
Consequently, Eula has been viewed with contempt by the citizens of Mondstadt since birth. The Lawrence name stands for a legacy of depravity and despotism that stains Mondstadt’s past and scars the minds of its citizens even to this day.
So, whenever Eula appears, old wounds resurface. People despise the aristocracy, and this does no favors for her reputation.
However, Eula is strong-willed and in spite of everything, she joined the Knights of Favonius and rose to the rank of Captain.
When people in the city voiced their reservations, she would respond head-on, claiming that her chosen course of action was out of a desire for “vengeance.” This matter-of-fact confession would alarm them all the more and has convinced everyone that she joined the Knights of Favonius only to serve as a mole for the former aristocracy.
One person who sees things differently is Acting Grand Master Jean. In fact, she speaks rather fondly of Eula.
“The rumors are all groundless. The Spindrift Knight is simply misunderstood, that’s all.”
On one hand, she is a descendant of the disgraced Lawrence Clan, the scion of a corrupt aristocracy. On the other, she is one of the top two sword fighters in Mondstadt.
In other words, Eula is equal parts tainted blood and superior swordsmanship.
There is no knowing when she might strike, nor what she might take from you… In the eyes of the citizens of Mondstadt, the Reconnaissance Captain is as unpredictable and tumultuous as the waves on a stormy sea.
Eula responds with a cold haughtiness to accusations of this nature. To any who dare insinuate such things to her face, she replies, “How dare you. Hmph, I will remember this.”
She is consumed by the desire to avenge herself, but is often on the move far away from the city. Sometimes upon her return to Mondstadt, she will brandish her greatsword and march straight to the Knights of Favonius headquarters.
On one occasion, two fresh recruits standing guard on their first day on patrol watched this scene play out before their eyes. Alarmed and unsure how to respond, they ultimately did not dare to intervene. Instead, they simply watched on helplessly while Eula made a beeline for Master Jean’s office.
Much to their surprise, however, hours passed and no sound of a struggle was heard from within.
Still worried, the guards raised their concerns to Cavalry Captain Kaeya and Librarian Lisa as they were passing by.
“The Reconnaissance Captain is back again? When you saw her, was it when she was marching towards Jean’s office with her sword in hand, looking like she wanted to kill somebody?”
“Goodness, I must head there straight away. How can they have a tea break without me?”
Lisa hurried to Jean’s office the moment she finished speaking. Meanwhile, Kaeya took the two guards outside and explained to them whilst trying to suppress a fit of the giggles:
“We all know that the Acting Grand Master is a good judge of character, don’t we? The Knights of Favonius are interested in a person’s ability, not their family history. That’s why she gives up her time to spar with the Reconnaissance Captain. In doing so, she can preserve the dignity of the Knights of Favonius while also providing a way of settling old grievances. Quite brilliant, don’t you think?”
“Ohh… S—So that’s how it is…” “…So ‘tea break’ is code for ‘sparring’…?”
This kind of thing occurs almost on a monthly basis. But… if they’re engaged in some sort of strange sparring ritual in there for the sake of settling old grievances and honing their fighting skills… How come they don’t make a ton of noise?
In truth, Eula is nothing like the fearsome predator many imagine her to be. On the contrary, constantly being met with prejudice at every turn means she is often the victim.
At one time, shops would refuse to sell her their goods, restaurants would put no care and attention into her orders, and the citizens on her patrol route would refuse to cooperate with her. So, Eula’s work is fraught with difficulties.
When conflict arises, Eula fights back with a sternly worded threat to indicate that she will remember this grievance and make the offending party pay for it one day. It seems to work like a magic spell, because as soon as these words are uttered, the conflict ceases immediately without ever having to escalate to the level of an all-out confrontation.
Funnily enough, although people always have their guard up around Eula, she is a law-abiding citizen and has never harmed another Mondstadter in her life. She may come across as having a somewhat frosty demeanor, but she is entirely scrupulous in her speech and conduct.
No one can ever find fault with her actions, and as people gradually get to know her, their morbid fear of her will dissipate. They will also start to realize her threats of vengeance are nothing more than a figure of speech that simply serve as a verbal warning in the moment.
Eula, who may or may not be working to bring down the Knights of Favonius from the inside… Eula, who may or may not be an aristocrat mole… New recruits in the Knights of Favonius find her the most difficult person to deal with.
When Jean sends a new recruit to track down Eula in the wilds and deliver a new set of verbal orders, they always receive the same response: “If you have to resort to tasking the descendant of your former oppressors with doing your work, then perhaps you are not as strong as I thought.”
But despite the antagonism in her words, she will complete her newly assigned tasks to perfection. The new recruit is invariably forced to admit that with her abilities, it is no wonder she was able to achieve a captaincy within just a few years of joining the Knights.
Everyone knows Eula is the frosty and antagonistic Spindrift Knight, the aristocrat who has a score to settle with the Knights of Favonius, the openly hostile and potentially dangerous individual… but is this really the truth of who she is?
On the way back, the new recruit thinks back over Eula’s every action.
“What was that kind and resilient look I saw in her eyes when she wasn’t looking at me? She seems to take her job seriously… So, surely she can be relied on after all?”
Mondstadt is a city of freedom and happiness where even the descendants of a disgraced former ruling class can find true friends.
Fortunately, there is one person whom Eula can rely on to be her spokesperson to the Mondstadt masses, and that person is Outrider Amber.
Everybody loves Amber, so when she is around, shopkeepers will sell their wares to Eula at the normal price. If they’re in an especially good mood, they may even exchange a few words with her during the process. It is at moments like this that Eula shows her most agreeable side.
Because of this, and because Amber is just so nice, she’ll often accompany Eula on trips out, or even run all her errands for her and deliver the goods straight to her home.
Amber is also the reason that the city folk end up hearing all about the Reconnaissance Captain’s accomplishments out in the field. Each time Amber informs them of Eula’s long list of achievements in battle, they can’t help but let out a little gasp of surprise.
Early one weekend morning, Amber stood atop a makeshift stage of wooden crates and began announcing Eula’s latest highlights: “Recently, the Knights of Favonius Reconnaissance Captain saved the life of a woman at Dornman Port. After further investigation with this woman’s close cooperation, she then proceeded to successfully capture all the Abyss Order operatives hiding in the vicinity of the port. The woman in question was a renowned legal expert from Liyue, and the Knights of Favonius have since received official correspondence from the Liyue Communications Office thanking the Reconnaissance Captain for her deeds…”
Whether because Amber’s persistent efforts have overcome historical prejudices or because Eula’s achievements as a knight have quelled the long-standing fear in people’s hearts, Eula’s life has changed noticeably in recent years. Most of the city folk are no longer openly hostile towards her, and she has won over the members of the Knights of Favonius with her consistent results in the field.
As for the members of the Reconnaissance Company under her leadership, they support her unconditionally. They always have her back when they head out to Mondstadt’s outskirts to defend the peace of their nation.
Of course, the person who has always tirelessly rooted for Eula, and who is now the most delighted to see people’s attitudes towards her change, is Amber. They had been friends for a long time before Eula ever joined the Knights of Favonius, and as the beloved mentee of Amber’s grandfather, the first Outrider, Eula has her complete trust.
One might not expect this from her frosty attitude and sharp tongue, but Eula is a talented chef.
The Reconnaissance Company today prides itself on having the best field rations in the Knights of Favonius. One staple of their inventory is a moon-shaped pie. Though a field ration, this wonderfully delicious and highly portable food is loved by all who try it.
The Reconnaissance Company’s designated chef once admitted that when developing this item, she was inspired by the captain’s own baked goods. She extended the baking time to make the crust tougher and also substituted a few highly perishable ingredients with ones that last longer, reducing the cost while significantly prolonging the shelf life.
Even after such a major change to the recipe, the pie still tasted delicious. So, whenever the scouts are snacking, they can’t help but wonder: If this is the field ration version, how delicious must the captain’s original recipe taste?
The answer to this question is buried deep within the pages of a dusty old book in the library. The Lawrence Clan may have been overthrown a long time ago, but they have never given up hope of one day rising again and reclaiming their place as the ruling class. So that they are always prepared for this monumental moment, their offspring are subjected to an educational regime so unbelievably harsh that it is considered borderline abusive.
“Noble obligations” must be performed to absolute perfection in every possible sense, and these obligations cover etiquette, ritual, and study as well as cooking and other domestic chores.
In the eyes of the Lawrence Clan, “Post-liberation Mondstadt lacks etiquette and taste. When the day comes for our clan to seize power once more, there shall be none who are qualified to be our servants. We must be cautious. We must never stoop to the level of the commoners and set foot in the quagmire of vulgarity.”
The Lawrence Clan’s culinary arts teacher was particularly strict. If your dough was missing a half-spoonful of flour, or if your condiment was a few grains of salt short, or if you were two seconds late removing something from the oven, you were likely to be both scolded and disciplined. As far as Eula is concerned, the haute cuisine revered by the aristocrats is just another worthless consequence of people dogmatically following outdated rules.
For this reason, the only kind of person who Eula will permit to try her own home baking is someone who she… respects…? No, that would be taking it too far. Rather, it should be someone who she grudgingly accepts “will keep following me around and bothering me, seemingly undeterred by my warnings, despite having crossed me many times to date.”
Besides traditional etiquette, art is the second most highly prized asset to the aristocrats, known as the “second soul.”
The “Dance of Sacrifice” — a ritual used by illustrious families to display their nobility — is thought of as the crystallized form of this soul, the prize gem in the ruler’s scepter.
Folklore holds that Mondstadt’s most illustrious clans jointly created the Dance of Sacrifice long before the aristocracy’s reign of bloodshed began.
The third act, which represents the Lawrence Clan, is a solo dance known as “Flickering Candlelight.” The most important part of the Dance of Sacrifice, it was performed by the most senior dancer, who was typically the eldest daughter of the clan.
The Lawrence Clan would summon top dancers to serve as tutors for the eldest daughter and ensure it was performed to perfection. Bleeding toes were seen as a point of pride and a rite of passage for every dancer.
This ancient ceremony was a continuous tradition for so long that even today, long after being expelled by the people of Mondstadt, the Lawrence Clan still honors it.
However, without the grand banquet and the gorgeous stage that once featured prominently in ceremonial performances, the Dance of Sacrifice is now far from the grandiose affair it once was. Furthermore, the stringent requirements regarding the dancer’s posture and movements have also been relaxed due to the lack of tutors. In the end, the Lawrence Clan reluctantly decided that it could no longer be a mandatory part of the curriculum, and they relegated it to an artistic pastime.
Over time, the negative connotations and elitist expectations associated with this dance have faded away, and today it survives simply as a graceful dance.
As the eldest daughter of the present-day Lawrence Clan, Eula found it to be a relaxing pastime in her youth and a welcome respite from her other grueling courses of study.
Today, Eula appears to have put her artistic pursuits behind her. At least, no one pictures dancing when they think of the Spindrift Knight.
Nevertheless, a distinctly dance-like aesthetic can be observed in Eula’s bladework, along with an elegant rhythm and musicality that are difficult to capture in words.
As her greatsword rises and falls and sways to and fro, her distinctive and graceful poise is like that of a dancer under the moonlight: faraway, immaculate, and sublime.
Eula is the bearer of the Lawrence family crest, the “Glacial Seal.” It is the highest martial symbol of the clan and represents the spirit of the Lawrence Clan in the early days of Mondstadt before their fall from grace: cold and unsullied, undaunted by any flame, composed and unshaken in all circumstances.
Few among their number have passed the clan’s trials in a thousand years, and the hopes of the clan are passed from one seal-bearer to the next.
Eula was still quite young when she underwent the trial but she passed with ease, taking up the seal in the process. Then she departed with that badge of honor in her possession and has barely contacted the clan since.
Her icy sword is a manifestation of the strength represented by the seal, striking with the cold, brutal force of a relentless blizzard and driving her foes into retreat.
Yet, sharp and bright as ice as she is, she has the title of “Spindrift Knight,” a name that leads many who hear it to assume that she manipulates Hydro instead of Cryo.
There is a story behind that misunderstanding — the story of a habit.
Eula carries an exquisitely crafted bone whistle with her at all times. Each time she blows it, the vivid sound of ocean waves rings out loud and clear, far and wide.
Since the area her company is in charge of borders the sea, reproducing the sound of waves can be an excellent means of disturbing the enemy’s judgment, or of deceiving less intelligent monsters into believing that a tsunami is inbound, causing them to flee in panic.
Using this unique combat tactic has helped Eula emerge victorious against larger forces than her own on numerous occasions, and has also earned her the moniker of “Spindrift Knight.”
Of course, a bone whistle is capable of imitating many other sounds, and Eula has her reasons for imitating the ocean waves.
It would seem that something akin to the “Glacier Knight” should suit her better.
But perhaps Eula herself prefers the rolling waves to the cold and unyielding ice…
Roaming freely across the world, gentle but firm with the reefs and sands in their dominion…
Yes, she yearns not to be sharp and rigid like ice, but to be free and unbound like the ocean spray.
Where do “grievances” come from?
Dire straits in the present? Or the misfortunes of the past?
And what does “vengeance” mean?
To right wrongs and rebalance the scales of justice in one’s favor? Or to drive one’s foes into a pit of agony?
“Restore the clan’s former glory, win the respect of the common folk, stand once more at the apex of rulership”… These things were utterly unimportant to Eula.
She never experienced the great humiliation of her clan — and all the torment she had endured in life had been at their own hands. She attempted to free herself from their shackles, yet struggled to obtain recognition from the outside world.
Her talk of grievances and vengeance was but a habit, a signal, a shield.
For someone in her unique circumstances and position, what remarks should she just laugh off, and what ideas should she hold onto?
How should she fight this battle to break free, once and for all, from the great burden of her bloodline?
It was with all these questions and more circling around in her mind that Eula came under the tutelage of a long-forgotten old outrider. From him, she learned an open-mindedness and down-to-earth persistence that she had never previously encountered.
Before grappling with grievances and vengeance, before questions of clan and outsider, she first had to discover herself.
Her survival mechanism… her means of self-preservation… her grit and determination…
She may articulate it in terms of “grievances” and “vengeance,” but nothing can change what it is at its core: something both strong and kind.
Eula finally found herself on a gentle path of revenge that was hers alone… and the moment she set foot on that path, there it appeared before her — her Vision.
To be written…
This quest triggers upon approach. Avoid the gold marker on the map until you are ready to start
Most people who meet Kaedehara Kazuha for the first time might be inclined to assume that he is just a trainee sailor with the Crux Fleet.
After all, he is a gentle soul who enjoys reciting poetry when idle, and who speaks to everyone in a leisurely manner. Who could tell that he is a wanted man throughout Inazuma?
Even Beidou, ever the good judge of character, could not tell that Kazuha could wield a sword with the skill of a seasoned warrior when she first decided to take him in.
Who knows if it was the storms of life that smoothed out his rough edges, or if his natural restraint has kept his edge sheathed.
The Crux, an armed fleet from Liyue, spends much of the year on the high seas, and its sailors are quite used to the vagaries of life in other nations. So they were more curious than surprised when an outlander began serving as a sailor on their flagship, the Alcor.
The sailor in question was picked up when the Alcor docked at the Inazuman port of Ritou.
Beidou had made friends with this young man, and when he came on board, she told her crew, “This guy’s gonna be staying with us for a while. Take care of him, now.”
The sailors trusted Beidou’s judgment and admired the newcomer for his martial prowess, not to mention his ability to predict the weather, so they were happy to overlook his reticence to discuss his past, and welcomed him aboard.
Still, their curiosity did not abate, and they would often find all sorts of excuses to try and ply him for information about his experiences.
“I’ve heard that they make some sweet blades there in Inazuma and that the bigger the fish you are, the swankier the sword. So, uh… how’s yours measure up?”
“…”
Kazuha would remain silent in the face of all such queries.
Over time, after countless attempts to garner a response proved futile, the sailors would simply give up asking.
Eventually, it was an off-the-cuff remark from Chief Mate, Juza, just a few days later that finally managed to elicit a reply.
“Hey, Inazuma boy. What are the lads supposed to call you if they don’t even know your name?”
The young sailor wiped the sweat from his brow with his callused hands.
“My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, a wandering samurai. I am in your debt for taking me in, so just call me ‘Kazuha.'”
Kazuha was not born a commoner. He hails from an Inazuman noble house of old, the last son of the Kaedehara Clan.
Inazuma City is home to many illustrious clans, and the Kaedehara name was once one of the most renowned among them. But fortune is fickle, and the Kaedeharas’ fortunes had already collapsed by the time they were Kazuha’s to inherit.
As the young master of the house, Kazuha could do nothing but watch as his family’s future crumbled around him. But as helpless as this made him feel, when the moment came that the home was officially repossessed and the last attendant was finally dismissed, he breathed a sigh of relief: As far as he was concerned, this was a golden opportunity to begin leading a free and wandering life.
He had always longed to roam the mountains and forests, and had held a deep admiration for the beauty and authenticity of nature since his youth.
To Kazuha, nature had never been silent. It had always spoken to him, conveying its feelings in its own unique language.
When the wind ceases to speak and the world falls silent, that is the calm before the skies begin to weep. When silent springs suddenly leap into activity, it is the omen of a great earthquake.
These are the unique poetics that nature has bestowed upon him, and Kazuha was never one to be preoccupied with luxury anyway — so if the burden of family responsibility should drop from his shoulders, why not go wandering, and travel light?
Thus did Kazuha strike out on his journey, like a falling leaf in the yard carried away by the wind.
All travelers who outdoors roam need some skill to call their own. For Kazuha, this is his ability to read the sounds of nature.
After leaving Inazuma City, Kazuha wandered here and there. Things were different now: all of nature was his treasured home, and the sounds of wind and water beneath the sight of drifting clouds set his heart at ease.
All that he saw on the road filled him with curiosity. It was in this state of mind that Kazuha arrived at a mountain in the south.
It was early summer, and the frequent and heavy rainfall had turned the mountain roads to mud. Seeing that night was soon to fall, Kazuha decided to find somewhere to shelter from the rain. No sooner had he had this thought than he turned around to see a small straw hut at the far end of the road.
The traveling merchant with whom he was traveling at that time whooped for joy at the sight of the hut: “Kazuha, look! We’ll have a roof over our heads tonight!”
But Kazuha did not speak. He paused and listened intently for a long while before he finally replied: “If you were to ask my opinion… it may be best to stay away.”
But the merchant did not wish to remain in the rain. He left Kazuha and made his way to the house.
Upon knocking at the door, the traveling merchant was met by a lovely woman who offered him shelter, tea, food, and even bedding for the night.
Perhaps it was the excellent food, but the merchant quickly became drowsy and fell asleep immediately after finishing his meal.
When he awoke the following morning, there was no roof over his head. The bright sunlight pierced his eyes, and all he could see was Kazuha standing nearby, looking down at him and smiling.
Before the merchant could speak, he vomited a great pile of leaves and mud. And as for the bedding upon which he had slept so soundly, ah, it too was mud.
Kazuha smiled and said: “The wind is weaker where there are houses. Yet here stood a hut, and there was no change in the mountain breeze. I think you might have been the victim of a bake-danuki’s prank. Never mind. Next time, listen more closely to the wind and tread with care.”
Kazuha made many friends during his travels. One of them was particularly close to his heart, and for a time, the two journeyed together.
But they too would part, for their destinations were different.
To have met merely by chance and then form such a strong bond, there must be a fated connection between them… so, although they would part ways for now, surely they would meet again. Or so Kazuha thought.
But something happened soon thereafter that would shatter his calm disposition — the Almighty Shogun promulgated the Vision Hunt Decree and swore to retrieve all Visions.
All who wielded them, including Kazuha, were stricken with panic, concealing their identities and going into hiding.
It was then that Kazuha received shocking news: Someone had dared to call for a “duel before the throne,” and that someone was none other than Kazuha’s dear friend.
The defeated party in a duel before the throne would face punishment at the hand of the Shogun herself. His friend was prepared to risk all to come before the throne, partly for the chance to fight against a strong foe, but also to demonstrate the meaning of courage to all.
And yet, to call for this challenge now, of all times… Kazuha feared that his punishment, should he fail, would be absolute: The Almighty Shogun would unleash her lightning upon him in its full fury, and it would surely take his life.
Even the normally calm Kazuha could not restrain himself. He drew his sword and stormed into Tenshukaku like a whirlwind… But alas, he arrived too late.
His friend’s sword lay shattered in pieces, his Vision now an empty husk. Now a wanted man himself, Kazuha fled with grief in his heart.
From that moment on, the days of peaceful wanderings were over, and Kazuha’s life became an unending series of battles.
Kazuha did not fear battle, of course, but the constant fighting left him feeling lost and perplexed.
He did not regret having set out on his doomed rescue mission, nor did he begrudge his friend for leaving him, but he could not help but think…
“Is this endless conflict truly the only way to assert one’s ideals?”
The Crux Fleet became Kazuha’s new home, and he drifted on the ocean wherever it took him.
Trouble still found him from time to time, but no issue was insurmountable with the support of the Crux crew.
From his vantage point on the Alcor’s crow’s nest, gazing out at the azure sea and sky, he finally had the space to think over the tumultuous events of his past and what it all meant to him.
“Every samurai wishes to live their life with passion and to claim the greatest reputation possible using the sword in their hands.”
“But there will always be those whose base desires lead them astray from the path of justice and virtue, and whose blades leave an endless trail of enmity in their wake.”
“Surely the heavens did not give us fleshly forms and the gods did not watch over our lives all so that we might take up arms against one another.”
“Then, this sword I wield is not meant to slay, but to save…”
“Yes, this shall be my path as a samurai, and I shall defend it all my days.”
As he reached the conclusion of his thoughts, Kazuha was suddenly inspired to pen down a few verses to serve as a maxim for himself thereafter… but before he could get started, he was interrupted by an irate voice from down below:
“Hey, Kazuha, quit gawking at the sky — get down here and lend a hand!”
It seemed the maxim would have to wait for another day. Whatever the helmsman, Sea Drake, needed help with clearly couldn’t wait.
Kazuha was just as surprised as everybody else when the Vision briefly lit up during that great battle.
For in all the time that he had spent searching high and low trying to find someone who might rekindle it, never had he imagined that he could be the one to cause its light to shine once more. It was almost as if his late friend were lending him his aid from behind the scenes.
This empty shell of a Vision not only proved this, but had also brought him many fateful encounters along the way:
He had been aided by the resistance, saved and taken in by Captain Beidou, and he had even met the fabled Traveler…
In life there were seasons of hopelessness and desperation, but there were also moments of great serendipity.
His journey was like the rise and fall of a mountain path — at times, the struggle was all but too much to bear, but there would always be moments when he would touch the clouds.
The morning mist covered the mountains like a blanket as Kazuha trod a small trail alone.
The world was silent. Not a single feather flapped, and not a single cicada sang.
Even the roiling waves seemed to have fallen into slumber, leaving just the faint whisper of the wind audible against the silence. Kazuha stuck out his tongue — the air tasted heavy and gloomy.
This told him that it would soon rain.
He peered into the distance and spotted a plume of smoke up ahead. Below it were several straw huts. Tonight, it seemed, he would have a roof over his head.
He informed the owner of the house that a storm was coming. At first, he was met with skepticism, but come noon the rains arrived right on cue.
In awe of this wanderer’s skill, the master of the house eagerly offered him lodging.
The storm raged into the night. Kazuha held his quilt close, and as he listened to the onslaught of rain against the autumn leaves, his mind began to wander.
In the time since the Kaedehara Clan’s fortune had faded away and he had set off on his journey, Kazuha had traveled across many of Inazuma’s islands and had become intimately acquainted with the plight of the wanderer.
Moving between islands usually necessitated traveling by sea. Kazuha would make these trips alone, in a small, slow boat, making things all the more perilous when he had to battle against strong headwinds or violent thunderstorms…
And yet, there was limitless fascination to be found in this same journey of his, where the vast sky and boundless earth was his home, and all living things that inhabited them were his friends.
If one’s heart is empty, all under heaven is empty.
But if one’s heart is pure, all under heaven is pure.
With his sword in his hand and his chosen path in his heart, he could go on his way with a song on his lips and with nothing to fear, no matter the perils he may face.
Kazuha slept soundly that night, his mind at rest having made peace with his feelings.
The next day, he awoke to the sound of birds… and a shining Vision lying upon his chest.
To be written…
Rex Lapis has brought prosperity and plenty to Liyue Harbor, and his rule and majesty have long passed into show and song, much to the delight of the people. But for someone in such proximity to a god, Keqing seems to lack the requisite respect the most.
“Hmph. Let’s be real here, but does Morax really know everything?”
The Liyue Qixing deal with the day-to-day happenings in the Harbor, whether great or small, while Rex Lapis only descends once a year.
While history has shown that following Morax’s lead has been the right call, Keqing believes that humans should have their own pride, and that their views deserve equal importance.
As such, she often advocates different opinions from Rex Lapis, and is the first to put such views into practice.
Her radical actions have seen stellar results, but they have also attracted murmurings of opprobrium among those devoted to Rex Lapis.
As Keqing sees it, such opposition are the excuses of those who have grown complacent under the aegis of their deity, and who cannot consider the future of humanity of their own accord.
But someone must walk on the front line of the epoch and create a new path with their own hands — and the Yuheng star is determined to do her part in this endeavor.
Keqing is the daughter of an illustrious Liyue family with a proud lineage, and she is better acquainted than most with the influence that Rex Lapis has over the people of Liyue.
Once every few years, in an almost cyclical fashion, a major reshuffle hits Liyue’s economy after the Rite of Descension.
Once Rex Lapis’ new policies are announced, some families celebrate while other grieve. The poor hope it will offer them the chance to finally make their fortunes while the wealthy pray that theirs will not be swept away in the changing tides.
Rather than carefully analyzing the economic climate, merchants are more prone to making investments based on belief.
And in present-day Liyue, this is a forgivable strategy: Rex Lapis is a powerful deity and he can be relied on for all things.
But Keqing has her reservations about all this: What if, one day, Rex Lapis stops fulfilling his duty? Then what would become of the people of Liyue?
Liyue’s present prosperity is akin to a magnificent sandcastle on the beach — humanity does not have the luxury of deciding when the tide will come in.
However, Keqing has been unable to garner majority support for her views. From most people’s perspective, life is but a brief insignificant moment in Liyue’s long history, and there is no point in working oneself up into an existential quandary.
This perspective, as far as Keqing is concerned, is a lazy and cowardly one that denies there is any value at all in the existence of the human race. “If humans really have no value,” Keqing retorts, “then why should we expect the gods to care about us so much?”
Unwilling to compromise on her beliefs, she cast her skepticism on everything — everything from Rex Lapis’ loving-kindness, to the people’s laziness, to the way that society runs.
Issues affecting humans’ fate should be handled by humans, and humans are more capable of handling them with finesse.
Finally, the day came of her now-famous speech at the Rite of Descension.
“Rex Lapis has watched over Liyue for a millennium. But what about the next millennium? What about the next ten, or the next hundred millennia? How long are we expecting this status quo to last?”
On hearing these words, Rex Lapis burst into hearty laughter. But as for what exactly he was laughing about, only Rex Lapis himself knows.
Some may be able to keep up with Keqing’s forward-thinking ideas, but none can keep up with her pace of work.
Perhaps in an effort to become a role model for her people, she demands of herself to work ten times harder than the average person, and she cannot abide by any measure of laziness or inefficiency.
Humans’ abilities and lifespans are more limited than the gods’. This means that one has no hope of living to see the day when humans replace the gods as masters of our own universe if one allows apathy and hesitation to slow themselves down.
Because of this same mindset, she is never able to synchronize her work rhythm with the people around her. Whatever the task, she does not rest until the job is done, and when something should take half the month to resolve, she will pull out all the stops to try and get it turned around within the next 48 hours.
Additionally, Keqing’s notion of “completing” something is far more ambitious than simply getting it “finished” — she will make sure that every relevant detail is tied up too. To the outside observer, she seems to be both highly efficient and a perfectionist.
But not everyone is as self-motivated as Keqing, No assistant she hires ever makes it past the three-month mark. She has received countless remonstrations urging her to be less impatient, but she meets each one with a stern rejection. Still, she has, to some extent, come around to the idea that high staff turnover is itself a manifestation of inefficiency, and made some concessions accordingly.
Today, if you encounter an assistant of Keqing’s dealing with some matter three, four, or even five years ahead of time, don’t be alarmed, this is completely normal. Keqing gave them a bit of a head start, but she’ll be catching up before long.
“Yesterday’s experiences make me stronger today.” This is one of the principles Keqing lives by.
Spending all of one’s time at Yujing Terrace means seeing the same old things day after day. But to be able to think and act as swiftly as lightning, one needs a huge amount of experience to draw on.
So, if Keqing sees something that needs doing, why, she’ll do it herself. For example, she once served for two months as a laborer to better decide how to refine a plan to improve their treatment.
It’s hard to imagine that this young lady with so much authority vested in her has pulled carts at the Chasm, rammed earth at the south wharf, and waited tables at small diners.
In addition to working, she also once took the opportunity to gather evidence with which to report a powerful individual known for his abuses.
He was apprehended without any clue as to how he had been exposed, but when he was brought to the interrogation chamber by the Millelith, there he saw a striking young lady dressed in fine robes.
“Hey! Haven’t we… haven’t we met somewhere before?” The words felt foolish the moment they rolled off his tongue, even to him.
Especially because the Millelith then introduced her as follows: “This is the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing. Know your place and keep your distance!”
Rex Lapis’ departure has put Liyue Harbor through a great deal of hardship. All the duties Rex once fulfilled have been taken up by the Qixing and the Eight Trades.
Now that divine rule is a thing of the past, the old strictures left behind can’t simply be continued wholesale. But to establish new laws for Liyue, whose history spans several thousand years, is no mean feat.
At first, Keqing was incredibly enthusiastic about this task, having long prepared for this day when she might finally show her mettle. But several months in, and she was still stuck on a single task, land infrastructure — and it was driving her up the wall.
No matter how hard she struggled, the mountain of tasks was like a quagmire. She was making a difference, yes, but not nearly with as much ease as Rex Lapis.
“Why can I only do this much? Why… can’t I do it better?” Of course, she had long understood the wherefores here. Her lack of respect for the gods had somehow received their recognition all the same, yes, but that didn’t mean that she was ready to simply replace them.
But she was still Keqing, resolute and tenacious. From that day on, she shut herself in, studying classics of various kinds to learn all that she needed. Placing herself lowest, she accepted all that she had hitherto not known with open arms.
During this period, she gained a certain calm, slowly discarding the “opprobrium” she had long held against Rex Lapis.
They were both working for the good of Liyue, after all — and two people who love the same thing need not be on opposing sides.
She also seemingly came to an understanding concerning the smile Rex Lapis had given her during the Rite of Descension. It was, Keqing now believes, an expression of acknowledgement and expectation.
She hasn’t lost any of her forceful and decisive manner, no. But sometimes, when she feels lost, she will stop and think: “What would Rex Lapis do at a moment such as this?”
Keqing, who has dedicated a large portion of her energies to Liyue Harbor, indulges in an unexpected pastime when she can spare a moment — shopping. On her off days, she changes into ordinary clothes, contacts a few close friends, and enjoys a day of strolling around Feiyun Slope and Chihu Rock, just enjoying the act of buying things.
After Rex Lapis’ departure, Keqing managed to maintain this method of decompression despite her busier schedule, though with one subtle difference.
On one of her shopping trips, she happened upon a small and unremarkable stall that sold cute Rex Lapis clay figurines with tiny bodies and big heads.
Persuading her friends to visit the silk store opposite, she approached the stall, took a figurine in her hand, and began to examine it.
She knew that she didn’t have much time. So, after glancing around to make sure that no one was watching, she paid for, picked up, and packed away her prize in one swift single movement.
But no sooner had she placed the figurine into her bag and heaved a sigh of relief than one of her friends, silk bundles in tow, tapped her on the shoulder. In the end, all was revealed. Her friends were quite curious: Wasn’t Keqing a skeptic among skeptics? Why would she buy one of these?
“For… For introspection, of course! There’s nothing wrong with self-reflection, is there?” So she said, and it would be convincing, too — if Keqing didn’t already have an entire shelf dedicated to Rex Lapis self-reflection memorabilia…
Though she is of noble birth, Keqing tries to keep her luxuries to the bare minimum that would befit her position as one of the Liyue Qixing.
And when she is outside the borders of the prosperous city, she will often head deep into uninhabited areas to strengthen her knowledge and sharpen her will.
She has experienced countless challenges, but unlike backpackers and adventurers, she does not bring anything with but her hairpin and her sword. As long as it is infused with Electro, a hairpin can become a knife with unmatched sharpness.
Cutting grass, chopping firewood, skinning game and carving bone are all well within its capabilities.
If faced with a drop of great height, she only needs to pin it into the ground, tie rattans to it, and rappel down.
It also serves as an incredibly sensitive security device when camping out. Any unusual movements nearby will cause it, when tipped over and placed perpendicular to the ground, to alert and awaken Keqing immediately.
It can be used to fish: Keqing just hurls it into the water when she’s feeling peckish, and there will always be a few fish that will get knocked out by the electric shock — and of course, finding a stick to grill the fish on is not a problem either.
Some narrow-minded folk have ridiculed Keqing’s hairpin for being old and worn, but this does not anger her. Indeed, she considers it a point of pride. “Its weathered form is what gives it its charm.”
Keqing is likely a skeptic without equal when it comes to the value of Visions.
She knows that everything she has is the result of her own hard work, but that in the eyes of others, credit has been given instead to her Vision.
She once believed that this purple crystal had stolen the pride due originally to her, and that it was both a challenge and an insult from the gods.
In fact, she has tried to destroy her Vision countless times — she’s left it in a huge fire for three days and three nights, run over it with a minecart full of rocks, and has even hurled it from the heights of the Jade Chamber.
Unfortunately, she has never been successful.
With no options left, and not wanting it to fall into the wrong hands, Keqing was forced to accept the Vision as part of her life.
With the passage of time, Keqing came to appreciate the Vision. She realized that this item did not actually have any divine will imbued within it, and indeed had numerous practical uses, and as such chose to use it.
“The source of power is far less important than the character of its user.”
Regardless of how she may once have regarded it, Keqing’s Vision and its powers have become a part of her.
Thank the Archons she hadn’t destroyed it back then, or she’d have regretted it for sure — oh, the hardships of being a pragmatist.
To be written…
This quest triggers upon approach. Avoid the gold marker on the map until you are ready to start
When you are heading to the construction site to meet up with Shenhe, there are a couple Millelith soldiers you can talk to.
One of them mentions Lady Keqing having gone to Guyun Stone Forest, and you can find her there on the small island southwest of the domain
You can talk to her twice to hear both dialogue options!
While talking to Master Zhang, you may notice Qiqi off in the distance by the docks
After talking to her, you can teleport to Guyun Stone Forest for two hidden lines from Shenhe
While searching for Subrosium, Xiao will appear further along the coast of the lake
Shenhe was originally from a branch family of exorcists, but due to a series of coincidences, she became the disciple of an adeptus.
She is a student solely of Cloud Retainer in name, but her impressive constitution and intelligence quickly won several other adepti over.
She would go on to learn from them all, eventually becoming a master of adeptal arts in her own right as a mortal.
She very much looks the part as well in her unique temperament and manner of carrying herself — indeed, it would be no understatement to name her a true adeptus upon meeting her for the first time.
However, it is precisely due to the long years of tutelage that she has lacked company save for the adepti and odd passing illuminated beast.
This isolation has caused her to grow distant and indifferent.
Sometimes, a few rumors will escape from Liyue’s small community of pilgrims to make the rounds in the city’s back streets.
These tales often depict someone being in a hopeless situation in some desperate place, when suddenly—
A wandering white-haired adeptus comes to their rescue in the nick of time…
Most such stories are a collection of lovely, intoxicating clichés, little different from the oft-told street-tales of fated marriages and the like.
But if one were to ask that white-haired adeptus to tell the story, it would take a vastly different shape:
“Some annoying creatures worm their way into the mountains from time to time. I simply get rid of them to prevent them from disturbing my master’s meditations.”
“If some people did wind up getting caught in the crossfire and injured… Well, it was their decision to come here. There isn’t much I can do about that.”
Shenhe is in all likelihood the least accustomed to mortal life amongst those who take on an adeptal appearance.
Having been sequestered in the mountains since a young age, she lacks experience and common sense, which makes it difficult for her to relate to people normally.
To ordinary people, there are many solutions to any given problem. But to Shenhe, any solution that is not the simplest and most direct one may as well not exist.
For example, she almost never considers “negotiation” as a solution to being at cross-purposes with others, mostly resorting to “threats” instead. After all, it is simple and efficacious. A good solution, no?
She has also spent much time ruminating on problems that are truly esoteric.
For example: Why do we need to pay for food?
Is there any difference between intimidating civilians and intimidating bandits?
She even truly believes that her master, Cloud Retainer, is a most brilliant and eloquent conversationalist.
In a certain sense, she can be considered very pure.
Much like a child, she relies on her chaotic yet straightforward intuition and logic to get her through life.
Mountain Shaper once had this to say about her:
“Little Shenhe is not only stronger than most — she also possesses a unique character.”
“She knows not the world, understands not common sense, distinguishes few cuisines, and acknowledges no hierarchies.”
“It may not be such an easy thing for Cloud Retainer to tutor her.”
Liyue has no lack of folktales about meetings with the adepti, and many of these concern relative nobodies whom an adeptus took under their wing, thus elevating them greatly.
However, the circumstances under which Shenhe’s fate became tied to the adeptal abodes was no such glorious thing. If anything, it was an experience characterized by anguish.
When she was five, her mother passed away, and her father, having loved his wife dearly, found that agony hard to bear.
Over time, this agony turned into resentment, and this resentment birthed obsession, by which he was driven wandering throughout the land like a man gone mad.
He left for close to a year, never stopping, never able to sleep soundly, ever searching for some technique that might bring his wife back.
At last, when the year was almost out, he returned in joyous frenzy.
Her father had brought with him a secret art known as “Fate Transference”—
By making a ritual sacrifice to the seelie summoned by this art, a living person’s body could be exchanged for a dead one’s life.
At that time, Shenhe was yet utterly unaware of the disaster that would befall. She was only an ordinary child, overjoyed at her long-absent father’s return.
He claimed that he had a surprise awaiting her in a cave in the mountains behind and that he would take her there immediately. She was ecstatic…
But the scene that followed would be burned into her mind forever.
Her father summoned that hideous, horrifying black “seelie” into that cave, its blood-red eyes craving her delectable life-force.
Stupefied, Shenhe knew not from whence it had come, nor what it wanted from this place.
Crises often paralyze people. One thought only, however, crept into the young Shenhe’s mind.
This creature wanted to eat her, but she did not want to die. She wanted to live!
Gripping her mother’s keepsake, an exorcism dagger, she faced that dark “seelie,” trembling yet resolute…
Several days later, an adeptus following the trail of great evil would investigate the cave, only to find the little girl collapsed inside — spent, famished, parched, her life hanging by a thread.
Taking pity on the lass’ ruinous fate, and seeing that she possessed great talent, having repelled some terrifying force on her own, the adeptus would bring her back, heal her, and instruct her in the adeptal path.
If not for that, Shenhe would not be as she is today.
Even the most diffident heart, cooled from living and training in the mountains for over a decade, might sometimes experience strange surges.
So it was with Shenhe. On impulse, she came down from the mountains one night to return to what was once her home.
She did not know how she felt about her home or her family. She was merely driven by some nebulous desire:
To live in the house that was once hers, and to see what became of her father, lost in his obsession.
She learned from neighbors that he had passed away several years prior only when she got there.
Her childhood home had also been demolished by pawnbrokers — and thus had all the traces of her memory dissipated.
She did not care about the attention she was attracting, and did not answer a single one of the questions asked by those in the vicinity.
She simply stood there, listening to the howls that swept through the depths of her heart.
Was it hatred? Mania? Relief?
They were all there, and yet none tarried for even an instant. It was as if her heart were an old well without ripples.
No, like a barren well with no water upon which there might be ripples.
She stood there for a long time, before departing again before the astonished eyes of all.
Each step was slow indeed, but she never once turned back.
Liyue has its own fortune-telling, destiny-reading methods, similar to astrology.
Of these, there are two fates that people seek to avoid at all costs.
One is that of the “solitary star,” which dictates that one will be separated from friends and family, living alone all one’s days.
The other is “disastrous evil,” which means that one will face many hardships and perils.
When the adepti rescued Shenhe, Moon Carver did once read her fortune.
The signs showed that she was marked by both the “solitary star” and “disastrous evil,” and that she was also plagued by intense homicidal urges — she was thus a person of supremely ominous destiny, doomed to harm both herself and others.
To ensure that she could grow up safely and not harm any innocents, the adepti bound her soul using red ropes.
This binding had the effect of restraining both her evil fate and her violent tendencies, but also shackled many emotions that should have originally belonged to a human.
From then on, she became more and more disaffected by trivial matters, and even things most might consider important were but dust to her.
She became ever less human, and ever more like a lovely yet cold statue.
But surprisingly, she felt something stir within her when she encountered that Traveler from a distant land:
Long-dormant emotions, now strangers to her, came loose all at once from the depths of fate’s tableau.
Perhaps it really was as Moon Carver once said: that heaven might dictate fates, but destiny’s tale is written by mortals. The tale of Shenhe and the mortal world had not yet ended…
Once upon a time, Shenhe had a full head of black hair.
When she was first brought to Mt. Hulao, she would not say a word. The only thing she proved willing to do was to climb the mountain and watch the sea of clouds.
It was well, however, that she would sleep when tired, drink the dew of the mountains when thirsty, and would chew on a few stalks of Qingxin when hungry.
Cloud Retainer took this all in, but did not disturb the girl, instead making this comb of white jade from a sacred stone and giving it to her.
The adeptus said that if she ever wished to sever her ties with the mortal world and enter adeptal tutelage, she should brush her hair thrice with this comb, and it would be counted as a rite of apprenticeship.
Shenhe did exactly as the adeptus said without any hesitation. And something strange happened then — for as the jade comb brushed through Shenhe’s hair once, a layer of her black locks turned a frosty silver from root to tip.
On the second brush, but half her hair remained dark.
When the process was complete, only a flowing curtain of snow remained.
…
Today, Shenhe still keeps this comb on her person as a symbol of her connection to the adepti.
Through her years of training, she has long since come to understand the meaning behind those three brush strokes:
The first to uproot useless anxiety, the second to forsake joy and sorrow, and the third to walk this path into old age without regret.
Few people know how the young girl in the cave, intended as a sacrifice by her own father, had been able to stand against the monster for days and nights on end by herself.
Though Shenhe was born into an exorcist family, her maddened father had not taught her a single thing about exorcism.
And like many at that innocent age, she was also wholly unused to facing life’s perils alone.
But in that aphotic cave, bereft of parental protection — indeed, betrayed by kin — Shenhe underwent a metamorphosis.
Just as Moon Carver’s readings had shown, the sleeping calamitous fates, violent urges, and unyielding spirit within her burst their bonds all at once.
Those things served as an unseen shield and invisible blade, arming the girl’s frail form.
They gave her strength, gave her claws and fangs, allowing her to attack that wretched creature before her, to swear to tear it to shreds — to prove that she, and not it, was the cruelest evil that stalked the darkness.
Their life-and-death battle across the next few days was one without end. Hunter and hunted switched places many times, the conflict locked in stalemate…
As the shadow of death loomed large, the gods looked upon the extraordinary girl with favor.
With the bright, crystalline object falling into Shenhe’s hands, the balance tipped irrevocably in her favor and the victor was decided.
The vivid icy light pierced through the dark like skyglow, showing the path to the future.
In the past, it had guided Shenhe from her miserable fate. In the future, it would also lead her back to the mortal realm.
To be written…
Though many in Liyue are fascinated by life in Yujing Terrace, its day-to-day operations and rules are a mystery to them.
They are aware that the Liyue Qixing are the cream of the crop who hold the fate of the city in their hands, but the calculations and data behind the Qixing’s every decision are far harder to grasp.
The people understand that the new policies announced each year will change the dynamics of the market, yet none can comprehend how policy is plucked from complex meeting minutes and compiled into something easier on the human eye.
As the secretary of Yuehai Pavilion, Ganyu undertakes many tasks that ordinary folk do not see.
For those that have witnessed her standing by the dock at daybreak, enjoying her breakfast in silence, it is difficult to imagine her in such a post.
Even still, by the time the sun has fully risen, she will have returned to Yuehai Pavilion overlooking Yujing Terrace, to continue to fulfill her contract.
A contract that she signed three thousand years ago with Rex Lapis.
Ganyu is not the secretary of any one leader in the Liyue Qixing but is instead the general secretary for the entire organization. Under her gentle exterior, Ganyu is as persevering as stone itself. This was something that Rex Lapis, the leader of the adepti, noticed very early on. Thus when the Liyue Qixing first emerged ages ago, Ganyu was their secretary. Through the years and the changes in the Qixing’s roster, Ganyu has remained by their side as a constant. This has also meant that the mountainous piles of paperwork from the various departments and bureaus in Liyue have fallen upon Ganyu’s shoulders. But though her workload has increased seven, a hundred, or even a thousandfold, her sense of responsibility has never wavered. Someone once queried as to the source of her motivation and received an answer that was not quite congruous with the question. “What I’ve done… is nothing compared to what Rex Lapis has accomplished.”
“I work for the well-being of all living things in Liyue.”
Under almost all circumstances, Ganyu is a very trustworthy secretary.
It is hard to imagine anyone outperforming her in the face of such an enormous workload, especially given her unique and penetrating insights into all of Liyue’s matters.
Nevertheless, her reliability can only be guaranteed under “almost all circumstances.”
The more important the matter, the more Ganyu strives for perfection, and the more nervous she becomes. Under pressure, her nervousness does result in the occasional error.
One such incident occurred during the Rite of Descension, without doubt the most important annual event in Liyue’s calendar.
Ganyu was three minutes late for the Rite and had to squeeze through the crowd in full view of all.
Later on, with a face as red as a tomato, she stammered her way through an unconvincing explanation, all the while apologizing profusely to Rex Lapis in her heart.
Her colleagues guessed that there must be some reason for the mistake.
Those who did not know her well saw that Rex Lapis did not mind, and thus paid the incident no attention.
Those closer to her worried in private, and asked if she needed a workload adjustment or a short vacation, but Ganyu refused.
“I spent two hours making sure that I wasn’t wearing anything too similar to last year’s Rite…”
Needless to say, Ganyu was not about to admit to this being the real reason for her tardiness!
How long is a thousand years?
Long enough for the Glaze Lilies that once teemed throughout Dihua Marsh to be wiped out by floodwaters, and long enough for the thriving settlement that sprung up upon Guili Plains to come to ruin in war.
How short is a thousand years?
To Ganyu, it has felt shorter than the blink of an eye.
Throughout a passage of time unimaginable to mortals, Ganyu has been working on all manner of things at Yujing Terrace.
She recorded the raising and demolishing of every building, and witnessed the rise to prosperity of every industry.
Ganyu’s sense of objectivity towards the passage of time comes from the endless reams of data she must trawl through, and from the ever-increasing number of colors she finds that she needs to categorize it all.
All this time, her mindset has never changed — she constantly wavers between her human and adeptus halves.
On one hand, Ganyu the qilin finds it difficult to comprehend mortal squabbles.
But on the other hand, her human blood reminds her always to hold out hope that she might someday be able to fit in.
Outside the confines of her work, Ganyu very quickly shows how different she is from most other people.
She has a habit of taking afternoon naps and has a shockingly accurate internal clock. When lunch hour arrives, no matter where she is, she will simply curl up into a ball and fall asleep on the spot. Even the raucous dancing of hilichurls will fail to wake her.
These habits were at first just a running joke within the Liyue Qixing.
But once, after accompanying the then-Tianxuan to lunch outside the city, a well-fed Ganyu simply crawled into the nearest roadside haystack. She ended up being transported all the way to Dihua Marsh, awakening only after bumping her head during the unloading.
Unable to find Ganyu anywhere over the subsequent three hours, and knowing that she would not depart unannounced, the Tianxuan almost filed a missing person report.
After receiving a stern admonishment to “only take afternoon naps where it’s safe,” Ganyu retorted:
“Well… isn’t everywhere in Liyue safe?”
Perhaps, with the mixture of human and illuminated beast blood flowing through her veins, Ganyu’s understanding of the world’s affairs is a little different to that of most humans.
Ganyu’s qilin heritage is little-known in Liyue Harbor.
Whenever she is asked by someone walking along Feiyun Slope as to the obvious protrusions in her hair, she says that they are ornamental heirlooms.
“If I told them the truth, they would distance themselves from me…”
Despite never having been on particularly close terms with Liyue’s citizens in the first place, Ganyu would still not consider distancing to be a good thing.
Her more important reason for hiding the truth is to prevent curious onlookers from touching her qilin horns.
After all, a qilin’s horns are a sensitive part of their body, both physically and mentally speaking.
Another secret that Ganyu is anxious to keep hidden is the fact that she is watching her physique.
The qilin are strict vegetarians, but Liyue is a veritable powerhouse of gastronomical delights, one in which even vegetarians struggle to control their appetites.
Ganyu, who has grown accustomed to city life, is thus very vigilant in matters concerning her weight and physique.
Whenever she finds herself being drawn towards some delicious dish, she will attempt to reassert her self-control. For Ganyu, the difficulty of such a challenge is second only to finding a Flaming Flower atop Dragonspine.
But she is not one to give up half-way through the ascent.
During the Archon War, she once choked a giant monster to death with ease after getting lodged in its throat when it tried to eat her, said monster having fatally underestimated quite how wide her waistline was.
For Ganyu, avoiding any similarly embarrassing episodes in the future is an absolute must.
Handwritten notes detail the morphological features and behaviors of the plants in Yujing Terrace, with each beautiful stroke penned by Ganyu’s own hand.
The notes are succinct, comprehensive, and well-categorized, and even offer some insights that one would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere on the market.
These include pointers on caring for Glaze Lilies and methods for grafting Silk Flowers.
In readability and scientific accessibility, they come close to the standard of official publications.
Or rather, this is the experience if one starts reading from the front.
Skip to near the end, however, and one may well be left dumbfounded.
The final few pages are a shocking rash of black ink and frantically scribbled-out text.
Reading patiently and painstakingly between the lines, one might just discover that these notes were, at one time, various methods for vegetable cultivation.
“But if I learn to grow vegetables, I’ll be even less able to control my appetite.”
Her hands balling into fists, it was with much difficulty that Ganyu erased the results of her research.
Later, whilst watering the plants on an empty stomach, Ganyu found herself plunging her head into a thicket of Silk Flowers, fantasizing that they were Sweet Flowers in an effort to comfort herself.
Many more fantasy Sweet Flowers followed shortly afterward during her afternoon nap…
Qilin are paragons of benevolence among the adepti, drinking only freshwater and eating only plants. Flies they will not hurt, and a bruised reed they will not break. They do not travel abroad, do not gather in herds, and no trap will hold them. They are leisurely yet composed, active but reserved — a gentle and elegant race. Yet when a wicked beast from the sea arose and threatened the land beneath their feet, that peaceful life ceased to be an option. Three thousand years ago, Ganyu answered the call of Morax the God of Geo, aiding him in the Archon Wars. And when the war was over, she chose to stay in Liyue and help the humans build a better polity there. The first Liyue Qixing would need support, and she took this task up as a matter of course, becoming their secretary. The moment she made that decision, a Vision appeared at her hip, granting her power to resonate with the world to a degree beyond her natural abilities. Whether she would grow strong enough to no longer need it, or whether she would use it as a last resort in Liyue’s defense… Regardless, she chose to serve as the bridge between adepti and humans. Her Vision, then, was proof and witness of her new duty.
To be written…
