"Why?"
Aila pushed the Talisman of Everlasting Morality back across the table. She looked straight at Zhongli, neither nervous nor overly deferential. She simply did not accept this token that—by any reasonable standard—could change a mortal's fate.
Anyone else would have seized it immediately, thanked him, and considered their future secured. And that included Futsu Mitama and Kuki Shinobu. Both understood its worth all too well.
Shinobu had studied in Liyue. Naturally, she knew what this talisman represented: a covenant between Rex Lapis and the people, infused with Adepti power capable of warding off evil. Holding it meant one could seek an audience with an Adeptus.
With Aila's aptitude, meeting an Adeptus would almost certainly lead to being accepted as a disciple and taught Adepti arts.
The future was practically visible. Both Futsu Mitama and Shinobu could see it clearly. Which was why they were now silently panicking when Aila pushed the talisman back. If Lord Zhongli suddenly changed his mind… if he declared the token a mistake… if he simply withdrew it…
That would be disastrous.
"I can sense it." Zhongli refilled his cup with a steady hand. "You desire strength. But what you need to temper right now is not merely your power."
Aila frowned faintly. The words were vague, yet she could feel Zhongli was pointing toward something she herself had not fully grasped.
"Your heart is lost." Zhongli took a slow sip of tea, eyes lowering as if savoring both its warmth and its calm. "If you continue like this, it will hinder your growth."
He set the cup down.
"As for this talisman—it no longer serves any purpose for me. Though it is a family heirloom, I have no need to seek an Adeptus. Neither do my descendants."
His tone remained serene.
"So I would rather place it in the hands of someone who can truly make use of it."
Aila fell silent.
Under the expectant, borderline frantic gazes of Shinobu and Futsu Mitama, she finally drew the talisman back toward her. Yet her eyes remained fixed on Zhongli.
"Then why ask for my surname?"
Aila herself cared little for it. She had even considered taking Futsu Mitama's surname—Su Aila—until the young master complained it sounded strange. Since then, she had simply been Aila, without clan or lineage.
"..." Zhongli slowly opened his eyes. "Merely casual curiosity. Nothing more."
Aila didn't say anything, but her look made it clear she wasn't convinced. Still, after receiving something this precious, she could not press further.
"I'll remember this favor." Aila tucked the talisman carefully into the pocket of her maid uniform. She had no reason to reject it. She was lost—and she did want to grow stronger.
"I'll take note of that." Zhongli gave a light nod, then lifted his gaze to the storyteller nearby.
At that moment, the ambient noise of the teahouse subtly shifted—conversations around them regaining their usual energy. Futsu Mitama blinked. Zhongli had clearly used some discreet ability to mask their discussion from the public. A wise move—words like "Talisman of Everlasting Morality" would have stirred the whole teahouse into chaos.
And the Fatui—the Fatui would certainly have taken interest. Did Zhongli know the Fatui were pursuing one such talisman? And he still handed his to Aila? What about Tartaglia?
Well, that was Zhongli's problem. As Rex Lapis himself, he could just draw another if he truly wished.
"Haa…" Shinobu exhaled quietly, relieved now that Aila had accepted it. She had seen, clearly, how much Aila sought strength—perhaps tied to that "Perfect and Graceful Maid" manual, perhaps not. But desire was desire.
With this talisman, as Liyue would say, she could seek an Adeptus' guidance. And any Adeptus would certainly recognize her potential.
Once the gifts were given, Zhongli simply returned to his tea, listening to the storyteller recount a history both familiar and distant.
Futsu Mitama sipped his own tea, intrigued. Entertainment in Inazuma had been…limited, to say the least.
He had never had much leisure time anyway—inheriting a fallen family, juggling debt, then raising Aila…life had not been gentle. And back then, the Yashiro Commission was being suppressed by the other two Commissions; any festival had to be conducted practically in secret.
But Liyue was different. Storytellers, operas, music… And with the Rite of Descension drawing near, perhaps he could even hear Yun Jin perform in person.
He still remembered the Divine Maiden's Deliverance—her voice had left a deep impression. Just as he thought that, the storyteller finished the climax of his tale, snapped his fan shut with a crisp pa, and declared:
"If you wish to know what happens next, tune in for the next chapter!"
The audience booed on cue, but it was routine theatrics. Everyone knew the next performance would be even better.
"Well then. My tea is finished. I shall take my leave." Zhongli stood. After handing out such significant items, he had no intention of lingering. Anything further could be discussed in the group chat.
"You're not coming back with us?" Futsu Mitama asked, puzzled. Why move near the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor if not to be close to Zhongli?
As long as he remained associated with the Parlor, his safety was almost guaranteed. Even if all the Fatui Harbingers descended on Liyue Harbor, Zhongli would intervene. Even the Tsaritsa herself wouldn't change a thing.
"No." Zhongli shook his head. "I must visit an old friend. It is not on your route." He paused, expression turning faintly strained. "If you encounter Director Hu on the way back, please remind her not to…experiment when cooking. She is not Xiangling of Wanmin Restaurant."
Even his tone grew weary by the end. He had returned to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor last night, fulfilling his consulting duties. And even he—Zhongli himself—had nearly perished under the "three dishes" Hu Tao proudly presented.
Hu Tao was…unique. She could cook well—very well, at times. Her specialty, the Yoyo Grand March, had even earned his praise. Which meant she could be a proper chef.
But somehow, she also managed to create dishes that… defied mortal understanding. Half the Millelith had reportedly come knocking this morning to ask her to stop producing ghost-warding "experiments" that were endangering civilians.
"Understood." Futsu Mitama's mouth twitched. Only Hu Tao could make Zhongli look like that.
It made him curious—very curious—what would happen if she entered the group chat. Azhdaha would certainly enjoy her chaos. But he had only one invitation slot left. Better to save it. He didn't know how many slots the next group level-up would provide—if they would become permanent, or temporary.
Zhongli nodded once and left Heyu Tea House.
Futsu Mitama and the others also prepared to head home. They had gathered plenty of experience today; it was time for dinner and rest. As they stepped outside, Tartaglia sprinted toward the teahouse, having received word that Zhongli and Futsu Mitama had met for tea.
He had rushed here, abandoning everything, hoping for a "coincidental" encounter. But he arrived only after they had all left. Losing both of them.
"Haah…feels like nothing's going right lately." Tartaglia leaned against a pillar, looking down over the street. "Did you hear what they talked about?"
As Tartaglia finished speaking, a Debt Collector emerged from the shadows and knelt on one knee, his voice low and apologetic.
"My deepest apologies, Master Tartaglia. They… did not converse much."
He paused briefly, then continued with utmost caution.
"For most of the time, Futsu Mitama and Lord Zhongli merely drank tea and listened to the storyteller. Their discussion seemed to revolve around Director Hu of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor."
"As for other matters, this subordinate did not dare to approach too closely. However… from their expressions, it appeared that, for a period, Futsu Mitama and that kunoichi were desperately signaling to the maid."
"It seems Lord Zhongli bestowed something rather precious upon her."
Having reported this, the Debt Collector lowered his head further. Even he felt a sense of helplessness.
Master Tartaglia often spoke of building a friendship with Futsu Mitama—yet the surveillance had never once ceased.
That surveillance was, in itself, the problem. As long as Futsu Mitama did not notice, all was well. But if he did notice… the consequences would be unimaginable. Thus, the Debt Collector hardly dared to draw near, only watching from afar, fearful that any misstep would lead to disaster.
"…"
A faint ripple passed through Tartaglia's eyes.
Something precious from Zhongli…yet even his own agent failed to see it? That could only mean one thing—
He had already been discovered. Which meant that Futsu Mitama had obscured the item from view on purpose. Thoughts raced through Tartaglia's mind. After a moment of contemplation, he raised his gaze toward the distant Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
"It seems I truly can't wait any longer."
Tartaglia narrowed his eyes. If he didn't make contact soon, these people might plunge headfirst into unknown developments he could no longer predict. Whatever Zhongli had given that maid, he didn't particularly care.
What he sought at this stage were two things: intelligence concerning the Geo Archon, and the legendary talisman of everlasting morality.
And he refused to believe Zhongli would simply hand such an item to a maid. No coincidence in the world could be so absurd…right?
Yet the more Tartaglia thought about it, the more he felt that Futsu Mitama's group had already swerved far beyond his expectations—charging down a path even he could not foresee. Today, they encountered a Primo Geovishap and received a mysterious object from Zhongli.
Tomorrow…would they meet the Liyue Qixing—The Tianquan star?
If that happened, securing a proper position beside Futsu Mitama would become exponentially harder. He had to act now. Make himself appear sincere—harmless, even—before such connections solidified.
"Let's go."
With that, Tartaglia strode toward the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
"Yes, sir."
The Debt Collector followed closely behind.
When Futsu Mitama and his companions arrived, they found Hu Tao sprawled casually at the entrance, humming an off-key little tune.
"Yo~ you're back!" Hu Tao bounced up from her reclining chair, grinning brightly. "How was it today? Any big harvests? Oh, and have you eaten yet? Tonight, I'll treat you all to a meal! Don't worry—it definitely won't be like last night's dishes. Those were just an… accident."
She patted her chest with confidence.
Futsu Mitama, Kuki Shinobu, and Aila exchanged wordless glances. Not one of them believed a single syllable. Kuki Shinobu, quick-witted as ever, decided to change the subject.
"Director Hu, did any customers come in today?"
"Ah, that~!" Hu Tao instantly perked up. "A client came by! An elderly man. He doesn't have many days left."
"I helped him pick a lovely fengshui spot in Qingce Village. If nothing unexpected happens, he'll probably depart after the Rite of Descension."
She sighed theatrically.
"As always, every year after the Rite of Descension, a wave of old folks chooses to pass on. They insist on leaving after seeing the Lord of Geo one last time. They think it's the proper way to return."
Though she sighed, the happiness of having secured business still danced in her eyes. Suddenly remembering her earlier question, Hu Tao refocused on them.
"Right, right! How were your gains? I heard the most shocking rumor—"
"Xiangling apparently got her hands on some rare and extraordinary ingredient. All the famous chefs in Liyue Harbor rushed straight to Wanmin Restaurant! That never happens! So you must know something!"
"It's nothing special," Futsu Mitama replied calmly. "Just…Primo Geovishap meat."
Hu Tao froze.
"What? Wha—WHAT?!" She lunged forward, pressing closer in excitement. "That Primo Geovishap?! Wow!!! No wonder every famous chef stampeded to Wanmin Restaurant!!"
"I have mora! Sell me some! Five million! Five million mora!"
Futsu Mitama choked. "Where did you get that much mora?!"
Aila and Kuki Shinobu were equally stunned. Xiangling offered one million. Now Hu Tao casually offered five million. Just how rich were these girls?
"I am the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor!" Hu Tao declared proudly. "For all of Liyue's funeral rites, we are the one and only name. Imagine how much mora that brings in every year! If Zhongli hadn't passed the bills to us so many times, we wouldn't have nearly gone bankrupt either."
Futsu Mitama finally understood. This was the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor—Zhongli's personal financial pillar before Tartaglia became his wallet.
"So that's how it is—" Still, he shook his head. "No. If you cook it, something disastrous might happen. This ingredient contains Hydro elemental power."
"And I don't want the Funeral Parlor to explode."
Hu Tao puffed her cheeks in disappointment. "Aww, what a shame~"
"But! Xiangling can replicate the flavor, right? If she succeeds, I want to try it!"
Futsu Mitama sighed helplessly.
"Fine. When Xiangling figures it out, I'll invite you—and Zhongli—to eat the real thing. We're neighbors, after all."
Hu Tao's eyes sparkled. But before she could celebrate—
A familiar voice sounded.
"Oh? What are you all talking about? Mind if I join in?"
They turned. Tartaglia stood there, smiling as brightly as sunlight yet dangerous as a blade. Aila's expression instantly darkened. She stepped forward.
"Why are you here?"
Even now, she remained wary. A Fatui Harbinger could never be trusted.
"Hahaha! I came to fight you."
He raised both hands, signaling he meant no harm—despite his words. Everyone stared.
Fight? Here? In Liyue Harbor? Was he sane?
"I'm not good with words," Tartaglia admitted lightly. "But I am good with actions."
He snapped his fingers. The Debt Collector stepped forward, tossing a heavy bag of mora. Kuki Shinobu instinctively caught it. The four exchanged confused looks.
Tartaglia smiled.
"I'm offering mora to buy a sparring match. Think of it as an opportunity—for you to measure my strength, and for me to learn from all three of you."
"As long as it doesn't disturb the public, damage property, or get noticed by the Millelith…a brief street spar is perfectly fine."
His tone was earnest, almost humble.
Aila and Kuki Shinobu exchanged glances. The temptation was real. Battles with the Fatui were inevitable—especially battles against Tartaglia.
Aila made the choice first. She charged. Cold air swept out in a sudden wave as she drew her blade.
"!"
The Debt Collector's breath caught. For the first time, he realized—
If he were to face her himself…he would not survive ten clashes.
"Excellent!"
Tartaglia's eyes lit with unrestrained joy. The Millelith wouldn't patrol this street for another twenty minutes.
Perfect.
The fight could begin.
Tartaglia lifted his hands. A bow of shimmering Hydro took form between his fingers, and without a word, he released the string.
The arrow flew.
So fast—The moment Tartaglia acted, Aila felt a pressure that made her breath hitch. His movement was clean, practiced, instantaneous. The conjuring of the bow and arrow, the draw, the release—done in a single, fluid motion, as if instinct.
"Swish—!"
Aila stepped in, her tachi sweeping outward. Cold light blossomed along the blade as the Cryo within froze the incoming arrow mid-flight.
They were less than five meters apart now. Aila seized the distance immediately. If Tartaglia retreated, she would pursue; if he held his ground, she would force him into close combat. And judging from the bow in his hand, his melee might be lacking.
At least—that was what she assumed. But no Fatui Harbinger should ever be underestimated. The power Scaramouche and Signora had displayed was more than enough to prove that point.
"Oh? As expected…your strength is impressive. And indeed—I'm not exactly suited to a bow."
Tartaglia smiled helplessly as Aila closed in. He relaxed his hands; the bow dissolved into droplets.
"—!"
Aila's breath froze. A prickling sense of danger surged up her spine, and her body moved on pure instinct—retreating sharply.
"Swish—!"
A blade of water carved through the air where she had just stood. Tartaglia's stance shifted, twin Hydro daggers now gleaming in his grip. If she hadn't retreated, she would have taken that strike full force.
And his speed—Had he been holding back earlier? Or was this simply his true pace?
This pressure…No weaker than Signora's.
Aila gripped the hilt of her tachi tighter. Futsu Mitama had told her: the Fatui Harbingers were ranked by strength. Yet this man before her, the Eleventh—supposedly the last—held such overwhelming presence?
But the truth was simple. Though called Zhongli's walking wallet and the "last" among the Harbingers, Tartaglia's real combat ability was undeniable. He grew strong through bloodshed in the Abyss at fourteen; his rank reflected tenure, not weakness.
In the original tale, after Scaramouche defected, it was Tartaglia who personally pursued him—proof enough of his standing.
"Clang! Clang! Clang—!"
"Pfft! Pfft!"
Water surged and clashed. Their visions resonated—two Hydro wielders whose styles were equally fierce and unrestrained. Yet after a dozen exchanges, Aila's attacks diminished. Her defense tightened. The flow of the fight tilted. She was being completely suppressed.
"Tch."
Kuki Shinobu was the first to move. She could see Aila's limit approaching. Futsu Mitama's gaze sharpened as well; he stepped forward, Musou Isshin manifesting in his grasp. Aila could not last. Without her forbidden technique, Tartaglia would defeat her in his base stance alone.
"Clang—!"
A sudden flash of blue burst from Aila's eyes. She swung her tachi, releasing a crescent slash of shimmering water and frost.
Tartaglia parried it cleanly. Kuki Shinobu and Futsu Mitama prepared to join the fray—
"I can do it!"
Aila's voice cut across the battlefield. She inhaled deeply, both hands steady on her hilt.
"This battle is important to me."
She wasn't forcing herself. She sensed it—The pressure Tartaglia exerted was pushing her toward the breakthrough of Mirrors Reflection of Tranquility.
If they interfered, she would lose her chance. Kuki Shinobu hesitated, torn between concern and trust.
Futsu Mitama sheathed Musou Isshin. "…I understand."
Kuki Shinobu followed with a quiet sigh. Aila smiled faintly.
"Thank you." Then she turned back to Tartaglia. "You didn't strike while I was talking."
Tartaglia shrugged lightly. "I said it was a spar. And I can feel it—you want to grow stronger. And you are growing stronger through fighting me. To be someone's whetstone… I don't mind. In fact, I hunger for strong opponents."
His gaze drifted briefly toward Futsu Mitama in the distance—the one who bore the Electro Archon's authority. Compared to Aila, that was the opponent he truly wished to face.
Aila didn't answer. Her expression sank into perfect calm. Her heart stillness returned.
Mirrors Reflection of Tranquility—activated again.
Ripples danced across the boundless inner sea. She had already forced this state once today against the Geovishap. Her body had hardly recovered. This time—she would only get one strike.
"Oh?" Tartaglia's eyes narrowed in excitement. Aila's presence changed, as if the ocean itself had been drawn into a single point of stillness.
Her hostility vanished. Her killing intent faded. Everything sharpened into clarity.
"Flash."
Her figure vanished.
"—?!"
The Debt Collector gaped. He hadn't even seen her move.
Fast. Too fast. Could a vanguard squad even hope to stop this?
Hu Tao watched with sparkling eyes. "Oooh? A breakthrough in the middle of a fight. Fun!"
Kuki Shinobu and Futsu Mitama remained silent, trying to read where the strike would fall.
Front?
Flank?
Rear?
She had one chance. Tartaglia braced, twin blades angled, breath steady.
'Come. From anywhere.' He couldn't hide the exhilaration trembling beneath his skin.
"Swish!"
A figure appeared behind him, blade already descending.
"Behind?!" Tartaglia spun instantly, blades crossing—
But the figure dissolved into water.
An illusion.
From his right—The true Aila struck.
A single, perfect slash. Blue light tore across the battlefield. A strike that could not be avoided.
"Lord Harbinger!!" the Debt Collector cried, horror tightening his voice. Even from afar, he felt it—
This blow was lethal.