*Mitsuha Yamano's Point of View*
"Then, Yamano-san," Dan Heng slightly inclined his head, "could you help me obtain money in this world? I have some coins that might be valuable here."
Before I could answer, he gracefully raised his hand, and a golden portal shimmered softly in the air. From it, he retrieved six gleaming gold coins that sparkled under the light.
(Wow! That's a handy trick for pickpockets… though with that angelic face of his, I doubt he needs it.)
"These are pure gold coins," he explained as he carefully placed them on my desk. "You can sell them simply for their gold value, or..." His green eyes glinted with a hint of cunning, "...you could auction them off. According to my research, they're nearly identical to coins from one of your ancient civilizations."
(Damn, this guy not only travels between dimensions but also does his homework. Though… what kind of "research" did he do exactly?)
"Sounds good, Dan Heng-san," I agreed, running a finger along the edge of one of the coins. "But I'll take a 5% commission. Business is business, even among friends."
Dan Heng nodded solemnly, his teal-blue horns faintly reflecting the light. "Then we have a deal. I'll return in a week—does that work for you?"
"Perfect," I replied, recalling my past experiences. "Last time I exchanged ancient coins, that's about how long it took for the payment to clear."
(Though these coins are practically works of art compared to the ones I sold before.)
"Good. Until then." With a final gesture of farewell, Dan Heng took a step back… and simply vanished, as if dissolving into thin air.
*****
The air around me thickened, and in an instant, the stifling smog of the modern city was replaced by the fresh scent of incense and wild herbs from Liyue.
(So Mitsuha's ability works without a hitch… and Teyvat's "false sky" doesn't interfere with my dimensional jumps. Well, that simplifies things.)
I began walking along the cobblestone path, enjoying the sound of my footsteps on the polished stones.
(Some might call me foolish for trading items from the GoB [Gates of Babylon] for mundane money… but unlike Gilgamesh, I don't have that obsession with hoarding wealth.Additionally, it was just a few coins. I have enough to fill several jade chambers, so it's no great loss.)
My thoughts drifted to other options. (I could hypnotize people with my spiritual abilities to get what I want without paying… but honestly, that's more tedious than doing things legally.)
(Setting that aside, what I need now is a good breakfast.)
I remembered Ganyu had mentioned a few less touristy spots, so I decided to try one of those tucked-away places ordinary travelers wouldn't find in the Commerce Guild's brochures.
I took a shortcut down a narrow side street I vaguely recalled from my earlier stroll with Ganyu. There, among the unassuming storefronts, stood a traditional teahouse with a handful of wooden outdoor tables. The air smelled of dried flowers and rice sweets.
And seated before a steaming cup—as if the universe had orchestrated the encounter—was a man with chestnut hair tinged gold, his posture impeccable: Zhongli.
He wore his classic brown attire, elegant yet understated, and seemed engrossed in watching the steam curl slowly from his cup.
As I passed by, he glanced up with his trademark composure.
"Ah, good morning," he said with a faint smile. "What a coincidence to see you here so early."
(Coincidence? I doubt it…)
"Good morning," I replied without fully stopping, though he was already gesturing courteously to the chair across from him.
"Would you care to join me? The tea is excellent. Moreover, this place serves lotus seed buns you'd hardly find on the menus of grand restaurants."
I sat, accepting the cup he offered. Its aroma was subtle but comforting.
Zhongli took a refined sip before speaking again, his gaze indirect.
"Curious… barely an hour ago, I sensed something… vanish entirely. As if a silk thread had been plucked from the world's loom."
My fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
"Yet it returned as though nothing had happened. Merely a fleeting anomaly, I suppose."
(So he noticed... Well, that was to be expected. Nothing in Liyue escapes his gaze. Not that I was trying to hide from him anyway.)
"It must have been a minor fluctuation," I replied with matching calm. "Though lately, even the most stable threads can tremble."
(Hah, you're not the only one who can speak cryptically.)
Zhongli nodded as if we were merely discussing the weather.
"That tends to happen when one crosses a boundary that shouldn't exist."
I studied him carefully. His gaze remained fixed on the steam rising from his tea, but I knew every word was deliberately chosen. He wasn't accusing. Just observing. Or perhaps... merely curious.
"At any rate," he said after a pause, with a faint smile, "it's a fine day to be back. And an even better one for hot food."
The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and soon a server brought a basket of freshly steamed lotus seed buns.
We ate in silence for a while, the air between us thick with unspoken understanding.
(He knows. Not everything, but enough. And he chose not to press... for now.)
Zhongli never brought up the incident again. But with him, silence spoke louder than a thousand questions.
Breakfast passed smoothly—lotus buns, chrysanthemum tea, and a strange but delicious almond pudding made their way to the table. For a moment, everything felt... normal.
Until Zhongli set his empty cup down on the saucer with that signature precision only someone like him could achieve, and asked:
"Do you have plans for the day?"
I gave him a measured glance. "A bit more exploring. Maybe a return to Mount Tianheng. There are still corners of Liyue I haven't seen."
Zhongli nodded, but his eyes betrayed a forming thought.
"I was wondering if you'd care to join me this evening. Yun Jin is premiering a new performance at Heyu Tea House—a traditional reinterpretation of Bosacius's legend. They say her portrayal is particularly stirring."
"You're going to watch it?" I asked, slightly surprised. I'd assumed Zhongli would prefer to avoid stories that reminded him of the past.
"Of course," he replied calmly. "I'm a regular at the theater. I appreciate traditional art... and besides, Yun Jin has prepared a special scene featuring ancient guhua-style singing. It would be a shame to miss it."
Not a bad way to spend the evening, I had to admit. And the company was certainly reliable.
"Alright," I finally said. "I accept the invitation."
Zhongli smiled with genuine satisfaction, as if he'd been expecting that answer since the moment we sat down.
Just then, the waiter returned with the bill.
Zhongli took it calmly, examined it... and then wrote something with his pocket brush at the bottom of the receipt.
I leaned in, curious.
(Wangsheng Funeral Parlor - Accounts Payable. Responsible Party: Hu Tao.)
"You're... charging breakfast to the funeral parlor?"
Zhongli shrugged with perfect nonchalance.
"Miss Hu Tao insists I maintain an active social life for the sake of the business's public image. I consider sampling traditional breakfast at a local teahouse to fall under that responsibility."
(Ah... of course. "Business responsibility.")
"In fact," he added thoughtfully, "the last time I attempted to pay out of pocket, she accused me of 'betraying my role as a model employee.'"
I couldn't help but smile.
(The worst part is, he doesn't even seem to be joking... In Liyue terms, that poker face of his must be harder than Chihu Rock.)
Zhongli stood, smoothing the folds of his coat.
"The performance begins at five. I'll meet you at the theater entrance."
I nodded as I finished the last sip of my tea. Zhongli walked away with measured steps, politely greeting a few passersby who clearly knew him... as nothing more than the mild-mannered Mr. Zhongli of the harbor, of course.
I glanced at the receipt one more time before letting out a small sigh.
(If Hu Tao checks the accounts tonight... I'll definitely end up on her "unauthorized frequent customers" list.)
I made my way back to the docks, where the comings and goings of merchants created the daily symphony of shouts, creaking wood, and ropes straining under cargo weight.
That's when I saw her.
Ganyu, dressed in her usual attire, was speaking with a couple of transporters beside some freshly unloaded crates from a caravan. Her tone was calm but firm as she held a bamboo clipboard with several records.
"This shipment was supposed to arrive yesterday," she said, lightly furrowing her brow. "And there's no quality control seal from the Commerce Guild."
"W-We're sorry, Miss Ganyu," one of the transporters replied, scratching the back of his neck. "The bridge south of Mingyun Valley was blocked by a landslide. We got delayed taking the alternate route..."
Ganyu sighed, quickly jotting something down. "I understand. But make sure the next shipment comes with complete documentation. Lady Ningguang is very particular about supply route efficiency."
(Same old Ganyu. Dedicated to the point of exhaustion.)
I approached slowly, careful not to interrupt.
She noticed me almost immediately and turned. Her amethyst eyes widened slightly at the sight of me.
"Mr. Dan Heng." She gave a small nod. "Have you come to the docks as well?"
"Just taking a stroll." I stopped beside her. "Didn't mean to interrupt."
"Not at all." Her expression softened. "In fact, this is about as calm as my morning has been. Just a few delayed shipments. Nothing unmanageable."
I glanced at the crates' contents—tea, silk, some jade.
"Handling logistics today?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Lady Keqing is overseeing an inspection at Yujing Terrace, so they left these deliveries to me."
I lifted my gaze to the ships coming and going in the harbor.
"Your dedication is admirable. Even after all these years, you treat every package as if it were the most important one."
Ganyu smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well... if I don't pay attention to the details, who will?"
(Humble as ever.)
"By the way," she added after a brief pause, "do you have any plans for this afternoon?"
"Zhongli invited me to Heyu Tea House. Yun Jin is performing a new opera."
"Oh? That sounds lovely." Ganyu's smile remained, though her tone softened. "I was thinking of attending too, if I finish my tasks on time..."
"Would you like to go together?" I asked, almost without thinking. "We could meet at the entrance."
A faint blush colored her cheeks.
"I-I'd like that. If I finish... it would be nice."
One of the transporters cleared his throat awkwardly.
Flustered, Ganyu quickly regained her professional demeanor.
"Forgive me, I need to finish this batch before noon." She turned back to her clipboard, though her eyes still held a different kind of glow.
I nodded calmly. "Then I'll see you at the opera."
With that, I walked away from the docks as she returned to her work—as meticulous as ever.
*****
The sun began its slow descent behind the mountains of Liyue, painting the sky in amber and rose hues. The city streets shimmered in the warm twilight as paper lanterns flickered to life one by one, like fireflies floating amidst the urban bustle.
I made my way to the entrance of Heyu Tea House, pausing by a small fountain decorating the plaza. People were already gathering, forming an orderly queue to enter. Many wore elegant attire, while children played near the water, mimicking opera actors with paper fans and masks.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," came a soft voice beside me.
I turned.
Ganyu approached, slightly winded but composed. She had changed from her usual attire into a traditional dress of sky-blue and white, adorned with golden almond branch embroidery. Her hair was tied in a low braid, accented with a small blue silk ribbon that matched her outfit.
"Right on time," I replied with a faint smile.
She nodded, and for a moment we shared a comfortable silence, observing the illuminated theater entrance together.
"It's been a while since I last attended a performance," Ganyu admitted, lowering her gaze slightly. "Though we work near Yun Jin, I rarely stop to watch her on stage."
We entered Heyu Tea House just before the fifth bell. The atmosphere was warm, with the gentle fragrance of jasmine tea lingering in the air. Unlike a grand theater, this place carried the cozy charm of old teahouses—lacquered wooden tables, silk curtains framing the sides, and paper lanterns casting everything in a soft amber glow.
(This is quite different from the game... though obviously a place with years of tradition would be more spacious.)
Zhongli was already there, seated with impeccable posture near the stage, sipping tea while reading a pamphlet about the opera.
"We're here," I murmured, glancing toward his table.
Ganyu nodded, admiring the carved interior details.
When he noticed us, Zhongli looked up with his usual composure—though for a split second, he seemed genuinely surprised to see Ganyu.
"Oh... how unexpected," he remarked, his tone ever polite. "Miss Ganyu. I hadn't anticipated seeing you here this evening. Do you also enjoy Yun Jin's performances?"
"Mr. Zhongli," Ganyu replied courteously with a slight bow. Her expression was that of someone bumping into a work acquaintance during an informal outing—showing no more deference than she would to any respected scholar.
"Not as often as I'd like," she answered with a timid smile. "But after all that paperwork at the docks, I thought I might treat myself to a break."
Zhongli maintained his usual composure, though I detected a glimmer of... paternal pride? in his amber eyes as he observed Ganyu. (Well, understandable. Everyone in Liyue knows Ganyu is basically his adopted daughter. Though I doubt even the Geo Archon is prepared for this awkward situation...)
"A wise decision," remarked the former Archon in that serene voice of his that could make a menu announcement sound like classical poetry. "Liyue's performing arts are the living soul of our culture." His gaze settled on me with an intensity reminiscent of police lie detectors. "I'm pleased to see today's youth cultivating such... harmonious relationships."
(By the Seven! This is worse than bumping into your father-in-law at a love hotel. Since when does Zhongli use that overprotective dad tone? Does he think I'm going to defile Liyue's traditions or something?)
"Miss Ganyu has been exceedingly considerate," I replied, keeping my tone diplomatic though my fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the table. (Relax, Dan Heng! It's not like you're declaring marriage intentions... though with that look, Zhongli seems one step away from demanding a conduct contract.)
"Since my arrival in Liyue, her guidance has been invaluable for... adapting to local customs." (As if "local customs" include explaining why all the vendors fear that funeral parlor on Main Street...)
Zhongli nodded approvingly, though his expression still clearly said "I'll be watching your every move, young man." (Come on, old man. I'm not a Fatui trying to steal the Gnosis. Though with this tension, I'd almost rather face a Harbinger...)
"The art of unexpected encounters is also a form of destiny. Liyue is a place of convergences, after all."
Tea was served shortly after. The aroma was exquisite. As the audience murmur quieted, Zhongli carefully set down his cup and remarked with absolute nonchalance:
"By the way, Dan Heng, I've confirmed this morning's breakfast bill was properly charged to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. It's more efficient this way."
Ganyu nearly choked on her tea in surprise.
"T-The funeral parlor? Isn't that... inappropriate?"
Zhongli tilted his head calmly.
"Hu Tao insists we support local businesses whenever possible. These expenses fall under what she calls 'postmortem cultural promotion.'"
I raised my teacup to my lips to hide a smile. Ganyu, visibly perplexed, chose not to press the matter further.
Minutes later, the lights dimmed slightly as a figure appeared between the paper panels at the back of the stage. Yun Jin, in her refined costume and elegant bearing, bowed to the audience before singing the opening notes of her opera.
The atmosphere transformed completely. Even Ganyu, who had been sitting upright and formal, began to relax to the rhythm of the melodious voice filling the hall.
The opera Yun Jin performed that afternoon was titled "The Promise Between Stone and Moon," a classic from Liyue's repertoire—though according to Zhongli, reinterpreted with new nuances by the young artist.
The painted paper curtain slid gracefully aside, revealing a simple set: a rock garden beneath a paper moon illuminated by suspended lanterns. Yun Jin appeared on stage as the Mist Maiden, a minor immortal born from the Stone Forest's mist, bound by an ancient pact with a mortal sculptor who had vowed to carve a statue of her that would endure for millennia.
Her singing was clear, brimming with emotion and technical precision. Every note resonated through the wood and tea. Her voice seemed to glide between words with an almost supernatural cadence. Ganyu, initially rigid in her seat, gradually leaned closer to the table, her eyes fixed on the performance.
"This story..." she murmured softly, almost to herself. "It's an adaptation of Granny Ping's tale... but I never imagined it could be portrayed with such sensitivity..."
I watched Yun Jin move gracefully across the stage—each step measured to the rhythm of memory, each turn of her wrist conveying sorrow or devotion. The Mist Maiden waited year after year for her beloved, until he returned in old age with his sculpture unfinished, lamenting how life had slipped away without fulfilling his promise.
The climax came as Yun Jin knelt at center stage, holding a sustained note while the moon slowly darkened. The mortal collapsed into her arms, and the maiden enveloped him in mist, vanishing together in a swirl of white fabric.
A heavy silence followed before subdued applause began. Ganyu clapped with glistening eyes, clearly moved by the quiet tragedy of the tale. I nodded gently, admiring how they'd portrayed time as something even devotion couldn't halt.
Zhongli set his empty cup down carefully on its saucer.
"An admirable performance. Yun Jin has captured the essence of the old legends well—even if she's taken certain liberties to suit modern tastes."
Ganyu let out a melancholic sigh with a soft smile.
"Sometimes I forget how many stories like this exist in Liyue... and how many remain to be remembered."
"Not all promises can withstand the test of time," I added quietly, "but some, if given sincerely, can echo across the ages."
Zhongli nodded, pleased by the reflection.
"And some promises, though unfulfilled, become legends... and in Liyue, legends are stronger than oblivion."
A pensive calm settled over us. Outside, the sky began deepening into twilight blue. The distant bustle of the harbor continued, but within Heyu Tea House, the world seemed suspended in time.
"Would you care for more tea before we depart?" Zhongli asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Only if you're not charging it to the funeral parlor this time," I joked, earning a muffled laugh from Ganyu.
Zhongli smiled enigmatically.
"I'm afraid that's already an established tradition."
*****
As we stepped out of Heyu Tea House, Liyue's evening air had cooled gently, carrying a breeze that lazily swayed the silk lanterns hanging between eaves. The harbor's clamor reached us muted by distance, while the first stars began peeking through the darkening sky.
Ganyu walked beside me with her hands clasped, her expression calm yet thoughtful. Just behind us, Zhongli paused, gazing at the path leading down to the city center.
"I believe I'll take a different route," he said in his measured tone. "It wouldn't do for an old scholar to intrude on young people's private time."
Ganyu whirled around, startled.
"Eh? You're leaving so soon, Mr. Zhongli?"
Zhongli offered her a faint smile.
"I've seen the opera and enjoyed excellent tea. Even stone knows when it's time to withdraw at this hour. Besides," he added with a knowing glint in his eyes,"I still need to settle my account with Wangsheng Funeral Parlor... before Hu Tao decides to charge me interest."
The mental image of Hu Tao chasing Zhongli with an inflated bill drew a small smile from me.
"See you soon," I said with a slight nod.
Zhongli raised two fingers in farewell and slowly disappeared into the orange glow of the street lanterns, his stride as steady as someone walking through memories.
For a few moments, Ganyu and I stood in silence, watching his figure fade into the crowd.
"It's strange..." Ganyu murmured at last, lowering her gaze. "Sometimes I feel like Mr. Zhongli knows more than he lets on, but he never says it outright. As if he's waiting for you to reach your own conclusions."
"Perhaps because he values introspection as much as wisdom," I replied.
She nodded softly, her steps falling into rhythm beside mine as we continued walking. We passed a stone fountain where a family watched their child toss a coin and make a wish. The scene carried a deep sense of peace.
"Today's performance made me think about many things..." Ganyu said, her gaze fixed ahead as if her thoughts were moving faster than she was. "About how much time has passed... and the things we leave unfulfilled, whether out of fear or duty."
Her words carried a subtle nostalgia, like the distant echo of a bell.
"And yet, here you are," I said quietly, "keeping your promise to serve Liyue every single day."
Ganyu tilted her head slightly downward, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
We walked in silence for a few more steps. The sky darkened gradually, and the lanterns lining the path cast a warm glow in Ganyu's eyes.
"Would you like to take a short walk to Yujing Terrace?" she asked suddenly, shy yet determined. "From there, the stars are clearer... and the city's noise feels farther away."
"That sounds like an excellent idea," I replied without hesitation.
Our walk to Yujing Terrace was peaceful, accompanied only by the soft sound of our footsteps on the ancient cobblestones and the distant murmur of the harbor. Nighttime in Liyue was a spectacle in itself—golden rooftops shimmered under lantern light, nearby mountains stood as gentle shadows against the sky, and the air carried a faint scent of incense and night-blooming flowers.
When we arrived, Yujing Terrace was nearly empty. Only a few young couples shared the starlit silence in the distance. We approached the edge of the stone balcony, where the city sprawled beneath us like a sea of golden lights.
Ganyu leaned lightly against the railing, closing her eyes for a moment as the breeze played with her hair.
"It's been a long time since I last came up here," she said, her voice calm but nostalgic. "I used to visit when I needed to think. It helps put things into perspective."
"It's a good place for that," I replied, gazing at the constellations above. The stars of Teyvat were different, but no less beautiful.
(What a shame this sky is fake.)
Ganyu turned slightly toward me.
"Dan Heng... in the place you lived before, did you have somewhere like this too? A place where you could just... breathe?"
The question caught me off guard, but I nodded slowly.
"Yes. It doesn't have this view, but there's an old temple surrounded by flowering trees. When the wind blows, the air fills with white petals... and for a moment, everything stops."
Ganyu smiled softly, as if she could picture it.
"That sounds beautiful... Maybe one day, I'd like to see it. If that's possible."
"Then I'll show you," I said without hesitation. "When the stars align again."
(Would Mitsuha's ability let me travel to other worlds beyond this one? I have no way of knowing... And the most unsettling part is—how much time has passed since my "death" in that world and my reincarnation here?)
My fingers tightened around the edge of my sleeve, crumpling the fabric unconsciously. The sound of the wind through Liyue's trees almost seemed to mock my doubts.
(At least in games, you had a menu telling you how many hours you'd played. But in this "new life"... has it been years? Decades? Or just a cosmic blink?)
For a moment, we both fell silent. I could sense something shifting in the air—not an awkward tension, but a shared calm. It was as if our worlds, so different, had touched at this precise point beneath the sky.
"You know..." Ganyu began suddenly, lowering her gaze slightly. "Today was... a good day. Even though it started full of work. I'm glad you decided to stay a little longer."
"I'm glad too," I replied sincerely. "There are still things in Liyue I don't fully understand, but I think some of them... are worth it."
Ganyu turned to face me fully. Her amethyst eyes reflected the starlight, and for an instant, her expression seemed as serene as the night itself.
"Thank you for coming with me," she said softly.
"Thank you," I returned, "for showing me this place can feel like home too."
The silence between us wasn't uncomfortable. On the contrary, it held an almost meditative quality. We watched Liyue's nightscape together, sharing a tranquility that needed no words—the kind of peace rarely found, even in a world as vast as this.
Ganyu let out a quiet sigh—not of weariness, but of serene resignation. She straightened slightly and turned her gaze toward the city.
"I should head back," she said, her tone almost apologetic. "There are still documents waiting at the Commerce Guild, and Lady Keqing warned me the Crux Fleet will arrive from Inazuma tomorrow..."
I nodded calmly, though I felt a faint pang at her words.
"Seems even Adepti suffer from paperwork overload," I remarked lightly.
Ganyu gave a small chuckle, covering her lips with her hand in that demure gesture so characteristic of her.
"Not all duties are heroic or mystical..." she replied with a quiet smile. "Some just involve stamps and signatures."
"Of all the threats to Liyue, excessive paperwork seems the most persistent," I added with a slight smirk, drawing another laugh from her—this time more relaxed.
She looked down briefly, as if hesitating, then met my eyes again.
"Thank you for tonight. It was... comforting. And fun, too," she admitted, her cheeks faintly flushed—whether from the cold or something else, I couldn't tell.
"The pleasure was mine. I hope we can do this again," I said sincerely—not as an empty pleasantry, but because I truly meant it.
Ganyu nodded, and for a moment, she seemed to wrestle with herself. Then she took a step back and bowed slightly, a formal yet gentle gesture.
"Rest well, Dan Heng."
"You too, Ganyu."
I watched her walk away along the stone path, her figure gradually blending with the soft mist settling over the elevated roads. I didn't move until she vanished from sight.
Only then did I turn back to the railing, gazing at the view. I'd arrived in Liyue with no plans or direction. But now, for the first time since setting foot in this world... I felt something anchoring me here.
Not duty. Not orders.
A... connection.
A gentle breeze swept in from the sea, and for a fleeting moment, I almost thought I heard laughter echoing through the leaves of distant trees.
✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦
Author's Note:
I felt truly inspired while writing this chapter, and when I did the word count, it turned out to be much longer than expected. I considered splitting it into parts, but it didn't feel right, so I kept it as one complete piece.
Regarding the travels to other worlds - these will be sporadic occurrences since the main story takes place in Teyvat. The recent world-hopping in the previous chapter served mainly to let the protagonist test his teleportation ability.
I should mention that this story is planned as an AU of the game, adjusted to fit the protagonist's power level. Without giving too much away, I'll just say that to me, the Abyss corruption affecting Teyvat resembles a phenomenon commonly seen in Dan Heng's universe.
As for Ganyu's growing connection with Dan Heng - I'll provide more explanations in future chapters, but one key reason is that Qilin (Ganyu's species) are creatures deeply connected to nature, while our protagonist essentially functions as a walking air purifier thanks to his abilities.