"Then, everyone, let us gather here again at the finals. For now, you may return and prepare for the preliminary rounds this afternoon. I wish you all success!"
With the host's closing words, the grand opening ceremony came to an end. The thousands gathered in the square dispersed noisily in all directions.
"To celebrate winning three million Mora, let's start the feast at noon!" Paimon's words instantly made everyone laugh.
"Little Paimon, you're so confident! Well, since you and Lumine are here this time, let's have a big meal together. It'll make up for all the times we couldn't get everyone together before."
"Hooray, banquet time!"
After enjoying a hearty meal at Wanmin Restaurant, everyone went their separate ways. Only then did Victor remember the coded commission he had posted four days ago—he hadn't checked it in days and had no idea if there had been a reply.
He hurried to the Adventurers' Guild not far away and discovered, to his shock, that someone had responded the very night he posted his request for information on 'Khaenri'ahn Relics'.
"If you are free, meet tomorrow night at the South Wharf."
Unfortunately, that "tomorrow night" had already passed… Would the contact be angry at having been stood up?
This concerned Khaenri'ah, and both sides were anonymous. If the contact refused to speak with him again, he'd have no way to find them. The lead would be gone forever.
Victor could only pray silently that they weren't too upset. He quickly sent a follow-up reply: "My deepest apologies. Circumstances prevented me from attending on time. If you are still willing to provide the information, please set another date—I promise I'll be there without fail."
"Ugh… what a mess."
That afternoon, the Bubble-Blowing Contest preliminaries began. By virtue of his masterful bubble-blowing skill (or lack thereof), Victor somehow managed to place within the top 100 out of 320 contestants. Xingqiu advanced easily, while Xiangling, true to expectations, scraped by in 98th place, barely qualifying.
Worried he might miss a message about the Khaenri'ahn relics, Victor spent the rest of the day checking the Adventurers' Guild noticeboard over and over, enduring a cycle of hope and disappointment until evening.
Finally, at around eight o'clock—after he had already eaten dinner, feeling discouraged—the board stirred with activity.
A new coded commission had just been posted: "If you are sincere, meet tonight at ten o'clock, South Wharf."
It seemed the other party was indeed upset. This time they gave him only two hours to respond. If he was as careless as before, he would lose this chance forever.
Luckily, he was ready.
Prepared, Victor arrived twenty minutes early at the appointed place.
On the wharf, under the night sky, Teyvat's moon hung like a giant silver plate, its cold light spilling across the docks like day, scattering into countless shimmering fragments upon the waves, as though the sea were paved with liquid silver.
The sight stirred a poetic urge in him, though with so many people around, he didn't dare recite aloud.
Even at this hour, the wharf was bustling. Cargo ships returned late from the waves, ornate pleasure barges floated by with music and laughter, sailors, fishermen, shipwrights, and wealthy young nobles came and went, keeping the place lively.
Victor wasn't here to sightsee, but his sharp observation was necessary. He needed to notice anyone who might be his contact, so every passerby earned a second glance. Yet the one he awaited had not appeared.
Bored, his eyes wandered toward the vessels out on the water.
"The Pearl Galley… beautiful as always."
Even from afar, the most dazzling ship of Guyun Stone Forest was easy to spot, wreathed in colored clouds and lanterns.
But other boats were not without charm—such as the one bearing a familiar figure.
A woman in plain garments stood gracefully at the prow, and when their eyes met, she nodded with a faint smile.
It was Ye Caizhen, whom he had once glimpsed at Yunyan Hall.
Did we… know each other? Perhaps because of Ning Zhen.
Time ticked by. Victor checked his pocket watch. Only two minutes left until the appointed hour.
Was this person going to stand him up deliberately, as payback?
The wharf was still crowded. No one approached him. The message had given only time and place, with no passphrase. Could the contact already be here but unable to identify him?
Growing anxious, Victor began walking along the dock, scanning every face.
Meanwhile, a vessel approached from the water, trailing him unhurriedly. At exactly ten o'clock, a voice called from the ship:
"You there—the masked gentleman. Please, come aboard for a word."
Masked… gentleman?
Startled, Victor turned. The speaker was none other than Ye Caizhen. She was the contact?
He asked cautiously: "Codename?"
"Skylark."
Skylark—the North Wing's liaison in Liyue!
"You…?"
"Come aboard. Too many eyes and ears here."
Once Victor lifted himself aboard with the wind, Ye Caizhen signaled the helmsman to sail into open water, away from shore and other ships. She turned to him and spoke first:
"Why are you interested in Khaenri'ahn Relics?"
Victor thought for a moment and deflected: "Do you have the information I want?"
"Perhaps. That depends on your answer."
"I have reasons I can't speak of."
Their words danced around each other.
"I'm serious. If you won't answer, then 'perhaps' becomes 'no.'"
She shook her head, then called to the helmsman: "Uncle Junzheng, turn back."
The man—whom Victor remembered from distributing gifts with Ye Caizhen at Yunyan Hall—obediently stopped the boat, though he didn't yet set course for the dock.
Unfazed, Victor replied coolly: "That won't work. I can fly."
"Ha. The information you seek is with me. You should be worrying whether I'll escape, not whether you can."
"…That's a fair point. But everyone has secrets they cannot tell."
"And what you seek involves my secrets as well."
"Oh?"
Ye Caizhen pressed her fist lightly to her lips, eyes downcast, then asked slowly: "Let me guess—you're… a Khaenri'ahn, aren't you?"
"A Khaenri'ahn?"
His instinctive reaction made her brows knit. "You're not? If you're not, I can't help you."
Khaenri'ahn… Their lot was tragic, yes, but far better than being mistaken for a Hilichurl. If admitting to it was the only way to gain a lead on Khaenri'ahn Relics… Victor decided on ambiguity.
"You may assume I am. Hearing the name so suddenly only startled me."
Yet Ye Caizhen seemed unconvinced. Testing, she said: "I know true Khaenri'ahns. Frankly, your eyes don't look like his."
What—could it be Dainsleif?
Victor's gaze shifted. He countered, "I am not pure-blooded. Naturally, my eyes lack the starlit gleam."
That seemed to ease her doubt. She exhaled softly. "Very well. You've passed that question. But you must show other proof of identity."
Their eyes locked. The tension had not fully abated.
Victor weighed carefully. If she truly knew that pure Khaenri'ahns had star-like eyes, she must possess some real knowledge. He would have to answer with weighty details.
After a pause, he spoke:
"The Underground Nation. Humanity's pride. Besieged by gods. The Abyssal Beasts. The Curse of Immortality. The Black Curse. The 'Golden Sage' Rhinedottir. The 'Tillers,' our so-called Ruin Guards… Is this proof enough?"
"…It seems you truly are Khaenri'ahn. Then let us speak openly. I am Khaenri'ahn as well."
Her wide sleeve slipped back, revealing a slender hand extended toward him. He hesitated a moment before politely clasping it with his gloved right hand.
Unbothered, she continued:
"I am not pure-blooded—half only. My father was a true Khaenri'ahn, a noble of the royal court, who survived the Cataclysm five hundred years ago.
"After settling in Liyue, he seemed determined to abandon the past, and spoke little of Khaenri'ah to me. But if it is you, perhaps he will provide the answers you seek."
"A royal noble of Khaenri'ah… still alive after five hundred years?!" Victor drew a sharp breath. Then, frowning, he asked, "But… didn't your father disappear long ago?"
The slip betrayed that he knew certain things about her. But since she had clearly investigated him too—knowing he was the one behind the anonymous posting—the secrecy was mutual.
Sure enough, Ye Caizhen only cast him a glance, then gazed over the sea with a trace of melancholy.
"Seven days ago, just after the Rite of Parting… he returned. Changed. So changed, he feels like a stranger. You want answers from him. I need another perspective to understand him. Work with me."
"With pleasure."
"Good. I'll provide a proper place for private conversation. Tomorrow at noon, at Liuli Pavilion. Be there on time. No more mistakes."
"Uh… I won't fail again."
"When the time comes, ask him anything you wish. But do not mention the organization. And afterward, you must describe his every word, every mannerism, every habit to me."