"Brother Taro…"
"How many surprises do you still have hidden in you?"
Looking at Taro, Zhongli couldn't help but sigh with deep emotion.
Ever since their first meeting, he had been wavering between shock and awe.
The man was like a lantern—
a lantern that, as long as one was willing to pay the price, could grant endless wishes.
To have met Brother Taro in this life—how lucky indeed!
"Surprises?"
"You mean this?"
Hearing Zhongli's words, Taro glanced at the wine bottle on the table.
What on earth had Zhongli discovered from this thing—
enough to leave him so moved?
"This wine… it can ease the torment of erosion."
"Tell me, Brother Taro—does this not count as true divine nectar for someone like me?"
Zhongli's expression was calm, not the least bit self-serving.
To him, this wine was no mere alcohol.
It could alleviate the erosion gnawing at his soul.
It meant a way for both him and Azhdaha to endure, to survive.
Such value was beyond price.
Deception? Exploitation? Taking advantage of Taro's ignorance?
He disdained such things.
Between him and Brother Taro, there could only be sincerity in exchange for sincerity.
"Hoh~ so this stuff works like that?"
Hearing Zhongli's words, Taro raised his brows.
He had underestimated the mountains of "consumables" he had hoarded.
A single little bottle of "wine" could actually weaken erosion?
Then… could other so-called consumables also reveal hidden powers here?
Good thing he was basically a hamster—
always storing things away.
Now he had a whole new list of experiments to run.
Items from a game, once brought into this world, held countless transformations…
And that made him grin with genuine delight.
"If it can cure erosion, then drink as much as you like."
"I promised you good wine. Tonight, you can drink your fill."
Taro refilled Zhongli's cup, and his own, without the slightest thought of being stingy.
"Good wine indeed…"
Zhongli smiled faintly as he raised his cup.
"Brother Taro, to celebrate our fated meeting in this life—let us empty this cup together!"
"Cheers!"
Taro clinked cups with him, and both drained them in one go, laughing as they met each other's gaze.
"Brother Taro—"
Zhongli began to speak further, but suddenly his brow furrowed ever so slightly.
His eyes turned northward.
There was nothing there. Only a wisp of breeze drifting idly by.
Zhongli's eyes narrowed, and his hand twitched, ready to strike.
"Eh, eh, don't hit me, old man! It's me, it's me—Barbatos, your old friend!"
The wisp of wind hastily condensed into human form beside Taro.
Only like this, he felt, would he avoid a serious beating.
"What are you doing here?"
Zhongli's expression toward Venti was dark.
Ever since this bard had once forged a fake contract in his name, Zhongli had wanted to thrash him.
Forgery was one thing, but to use the name of Morax, the God of Contracts?
Where did that leave his dignity?
Contracts were sacred—fair and just.
And Barbatos had not only used his name, but even burned the contract afterward.
That was basically stomping on Morax's face.
The fact that he hadn't already flattened him was mercy enough.
"Eheh~"
"I was young and foolish then. Don't be angry, old man, I swear I won't do such stupid things again."
"I'll never let you down or make you mad. Promise."
Knowing how guilty he was, Venti could only force an awkward laugh, sidling up closer to Taro, afraid Zhongli might pin him down and grind him into the dirt.
Even in his prime, he'd never been a match for the old man.
When Zhongli beat people, it was terrifying.
"You still haven't answered my question."
"Whether I beat you or not depends entirely on your next words."
Zhongli shot him a sideways glare.
He hadn't ruled out giving him a good thrashing.
"Ah, well…"
"The wind carried me news: one Yaksha revived, two demon gods revived, your retirement, old man… and finally—"
Here Venti's eyes gleamed hungrily as they fell on the bottle of wine.
"…this fragrance."
"You know me, old man. This aroma—I couldn't resist."
Yakshas? Demon gods? Retirement?
He could stomach all that.
But the aroma of this bottle drifting on the wind—
that he could not resist.
He respected Zhongli for shouldering erosion all these millennia, but he himself had long since learned to dodge it.
When erosion threatened, he'd simply disappear for centuries at a time.
But this scent—!
Even if it meant risking a beating, he had to come.
"Hehe, my good fellow…"
Seizing on Zhongli's hesitation, Venti turned to Taro with shining eyes, still sneaking glances at the bottle.
"My true name is Barbatos, Wind Archon of Mondstadt—but you can just call me Venti."
"I came here with no ill intent. Only… might I beg a single cup of that wine?"
Before Taro could respond, Venti pulled a small green sphere from his robe—a crystallized knot of wind power.
"Of course I know this must be priceless. I won't ask for much—just one cup! I'll trade this in return!"
Taro accepted the wind sphere, his eyes narrowing.
From it, he could feel the pulse of Archon power—whole and intact. Not some broken fragment.
"Deal."
Without hesitation, Taro fetched another bottle from his hoard and handed it over.
"Haha! Brother, you're too generous!"
Overjoyed, Venti snatched the bottle, popped the seal, and tilted his head back for a long, deep gulp.
"Ahhh~"
"This flavor… this bliss… divine!"
A rosy flush spread across his cheeks.
Venti dropped to the ground with a sigh, face melting into pure ecstasy.
"You're really willing…"
Zhongli's gaze deepened.
"You'd even trade Decarabian's Storm just for wine?"
This bard—so frivolous on the surface, yet in truth sharp and cunning.
"Bah, that thing's useless to me now."
"Gathering dust is all it was good for. Can't give it to others. Better to trade it for wine."
"Any way you look at it, I profit."
Venti waved it off without care, as if the Archon relic was worthless compared to the taste of the drink.
"Old man, really—having something this good and not inviting me? If I hadn't found my way here by chance, I'd never have tasted a drop!"
"That's not very friendly of you."
"Hm?"
Zhongli's gaze grew darker still.
(End of Chapter)
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