Watching the scene unfold before her, Diona felt a quiet despair settle in her chest.
Eula was a drinker, yes — but she was never a binge drinker. She always sipped, slowly, deliberately, one measured mouthful at a time.
Yet now, she was throwing back mouthful after enormous mouthful without pause. Glass after glass drained in quick succession.
It was getting worse.
Beside her, Amber was only drinking juice — but the way she sat there, drowning her sorrows in it, was hardly any different.
Even Amber had come to this…
Mondstadt City…
Was it beyond saving?
Wuwuwu…
What was she supposed to do…
Just as despair threatened to swallow her whole, the door chime rang again.
Another customer.
Diona had reached a kind of zen acceptance by now. If even someone as earnest and hardworking as Amber had shown up at the tavern, then whoever walked through that door next — she simply would not be surprised.
With that thought firmly in mind, she looked up — and saw a tall, elegantly built woman in a purple witch's dress step gracefully into Cat's Tail. Golden hair, sharp eyes, an air of warm, knowing intelligence about her.
Ah. Sister Lisa.
Lisa came in fairly often, and her drinking always made Diona sad — but after so many visits, she'd grown used to it. It was just how things were.
But then she saw who was walking in behind Lisa — and she froze on the spot. The cocktail shaker slipped from her fingers and hit the wooden counter with a heavy thunk, spraying drink across the surface.
The person who had walked in was Jean.
Commander Jean. Of the righteous, kind, and tireless Gunnhildr family.
How was she here? Why would she ever come to Cat's Tail?
No, no, wait — coming to the tavern didn't necessarily mean coming to drink. She could be on patrol and noticed the unusually packed crowd, so she'd stepped in to see if anyone needed help. Or maybe she had official business with the owner.
Either way, she was absolutely, positively not here to drink.
Yes. That was the only possible explanation.
While Diona was still working through her reasoning, Jean and Lisa had already made their way inside. Their entrance drew every eye in the room.
"Isn't that Commander Jean? What's she doing at Cat's Tail?"
"Must be official business, right?"
"Probably, yeah. Official business for sure. Should we go ask what's going on?"
"You lot… why does it have to be official business? Can't the Commander come have a quiet drink once in a while? Let's not bother them."
"Fair point. Honestly, I hope she gets some proper rest. She works herself too hard."
The murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Jean and Lisa exchanged brief greetings with those nearby, then turned their gazes toward Eula and Amber, seated at the bar.
"Well, if it isn't Eula and little Amber. What a coincidence," Lisa said, offering a warm smile.
"Commander Jean — and Lisa?" Amber spun around at the sound of Lisa's voice, eyes wide. "What are you two doing here?"
Beside her, Eula — flushed and glassy-eyed — also turned to look.
"Jean was working herself ragged, so I dragged her out," Lisa explained airily. "We read a novel together, and afterward the mood was… not great. So here we are."
At those words, Diona — who had been quietly wiping down the bar — went completely still.
She slowly looked up at Jean and Lisa.
Everyone else in the room did the same.
They read a novel and their mood wasn't great?
It was only then that they noticed: Commander Jean's eyes were faintly red-rimmed. She had clearly been crying recently.
Though what they were most curious about wasn't the crying, or even the drinking.
It was — what novel had they been reading?
"Jean, Lisa — was it one of Fang Qiu's books?" Amber asked, voicing the question on everyone's mind.
"Yes. Fang Qiu's The Eternal." Jean drew a quiet breath and nodded.
The collective expression around the room shifted in unison: of course.
Diona, meanwhile, looked utterly devastated. She clenched her small fists tight, jaw set.
Just as she'd feared.
She had once believed Fang Qiu might be Mondstadt's savior — the one who would rescue this nation from its drowning in alcohol.
Instead, the woman wasn't a savior at all. She was a demon lord.
Every single one of these drinkers had come here — and was drinking this recklessly — because of Fang Qiu's book.
Before reading it, plenty of them had been light drinkers. After reading it, every last one of them had turned into a binge drinker, pouring cup after cup to drown their feelings.
People were walking into the tavern on two feet and being carried out flat.
And now even the dedicated, responsible Commander Jean had read the book and ended up here.
This was all that Fang Qiu person's fault!
Wuwuwu…
Her great mission of dismantling Mondstadt's drinking culture had just been set back another dozen steps. No — dozens of steps.
Just as Diona was sinking into despair, Jean fell quiet for a moment, then spoke.
"I have to say — The Eternal is an exceptional work. Of every novel I've ever read, it stands above them all. Whether it's the defiance against the old class system, the yearning for freedom, or the way it celebrates the brilliance of the human spirit — every page breathes the will of Lord Barbatos. In a sense, this novel has written our very history into its pages."
"That's so Jean," Lisa said with an amused smile. "Here you are, composing a literary critique."
"It's a pity the ending is so heartbreaking," Jean continued, with a quiet sigh. "But it's precisely that ending which elevates the entire work."
An hour ago, she had been reading The Eternal with bated breath, certain that Fang Qiu would do what the traveling bards always did — bring the story to a perfect, beautiful close.
Like a fairy-tale love story.
The Eternal — symbol of the aristocracy — sinking into the sea, no longer eternal. A few bards strumming out an ode to the light of human dignity.
She had fully expected Rose and Jack to escape. To live, somewhere, happily together.
So when she read the lines describing Jack slipping down beneath the surface of the freezing sea — she had simply gone blank.
Jack was dead?
She had sat there motionless for a long time, like a string wound too tight that had suddenly snapped.
When she came back to herself, Klee was standing right in front of her, holding out a tissue, telling her not to cry.
That was when she realized — at some point, two silent tears had traced their way down her cheeks.
Then Lisa had swept her up and marched her here. She had refused, repeatedly, insisting she still had work to finish — but Lisa had simply said Kaeya could handle it.
Unable to argue, she had relented and followed Lisa to Cat's Tail.
The wind on the walk over had cleared her head, and she had begun to think about the heart of the story.
The "eternal" in The Eternal was never about the ship itself.
What was eternal was freedom. Resistance. The brilliance of the human spirit. And the love between Jack and Rose.
Jack had proven his love through death.
And with his life, he had bought Rose her freedom from every chain that bound her.
It was the very spirit sung in Mondstadt's poems and verses — the epic of those who raised the sword of defiance in the name of love and liberty.
"I see…" Amber murmured, a look of dawning understanding crossing her face. "I just went straight to being sad after finishing it — I never stopped to think the author had packed that much meaning into it."
Everyone who had listened to Jean fell quiet, turning the words over in their minds.
And then, thinking and thinking, they reached for their cups again. And the tears came again.
"Little kitty — a strong one for me, and something regular for Jean," Lisa said, steering Jean toward a pair of seats at the bar.
Diona mixed the orders in short order and set the glasses down in front of them. For Jean's drink, she had quietly used her newest recipe — a formula specially designed to discourage further drinking.
To her despair, it made absolutely no difference.
They drank merrily.
"Come on then — drink up," Eula said, raising her oak cup with a tipsy flourish.
"You know, Eula reminds me a little of Rose," Jean said, after a few sips of her drink, a faint blush rising on her pale cheeks.
"Like her? In what way? Our personalities are nothing alike. If it were me, I'd never have chosen to flee a noble engagement by faking my own death," Eula said, taking a long drink.
"That's not what I meant," Jean said, shaking her head.
"Then what?" Eula asked, her words just slightly thick.
Jean said nothing — only looked at Eula steadily.
"…Fine. Maybe there are a few similarities," Eula admitted at last, her voice blurring at the edges. "We're both sick of the old nobility's endless etiquette. Sick of how they look down on everyone. Sick of how they put profit above all else, without an ounce of human warmth…"
The alcohol had loosened her tongue, and Eula began listing her grievances against the Lawrence Clan in rambling, slurred detail — venting every frustration she'd kept bottled up.
The patrons around her who had not yet drunk themselves senseless — many of whom, still raw from the novel, had harbored a simmering resentment toward Eula — fell into silence.
After all, the oppression depicted in the book — nobles crushing commoners beneath their heels — was something that had genuinely happened in ancient Mondstadt. If anything, the reality had been worse than the fiction.
But after listening to Jean and Eula's exchange, they grew quiet, one by one.
They drank their cups in silence. Time flowed by with each swallow. Gradually, Cat's Tail settled into a hush.
Plenty of people stumbled out thoroughly soused, swaying on their feet as they went.
At last, even Eula had drunk herself under the table. Her lovely eyes glazed over, and she slumped forward onto the bar, murmuring over and over that she hadn't forgotten — she was keeping score.
"Alright — that's enough for tonight," Jean said, setting down her cup. Her face had gone a pleasant shade of pink.
"Fine by me," Lisa said with a serene smile. "Jean — go straight home and straight to bed when you get back. Don't you dare sit back down at your desk."
"Yes, yes, I know." Jean nodded, rubbing between her brows. She was a little drunk.
In this state, she'd only make errors if she tried to handle official matters.
Better to leave it to Kaeya.
She'd make up for it with an early start tomorrow.
"What about you, Amber?" Lisa asked.
"I'll walk Eula home," Amber said. "This is the first time she's ever drunk herself this far gone. If I just leave her, she might end up like that bard — asleep on the bookshop doorstep."
"Bard?" Jean blinked.
"Yeah — that bard named Venti. When Eula and I went to grab breakfast this morning, we saw him passed out right in front of the bookshop entrance." Amber nodded. "Something wrong?"
"N-no. Nothing." Jean shook her head, expression momentarily complicated.
"Alright then. Let's go," Amber said.
After settling the tab, Amber scooped up Eula's arm, ducked under it, and hauled her upright. Since Eula was considerably taller, once on her feet she leaned her entire weight on Amber's smaller frame.
They said their goodbyes to Lisa and Jean outside Cat's Tail, and then Amber set off, supporting the thoroughly drunk Eula on the long walk home.
Watching them disappear into the distance, Lisa smiled faintly and said, "Well then. Shall we head back too?"
"Mm." Jean nodded.
"Oh, by the way — shall we read another book together tomorrow?" Lisa asked, smiling.
"Absolutely not," Jean said, without a moment's hesitation.
They walked together down the street. After a little while, Lisa suddenly stopped.
"Oh? Is that the bard little Amber mentioned?"
Lisa raised an eyebrow.
"Hm?" Jean followed her gaze.
There, moving through the quiet night, was a bard in green — a book in hand, walking at a leisurely pace.
Jean's pupils contracted slightly.
Venti.
That was to say — the Anemo Archon. Barbatos.
That secret was known to only two people in all of Mondstadt — herself and Diluc. The Traveler aside.
"He seems to be holding a copy of Fang Qiu's The Eternal, doesn't he?" Lisa murmured, tilting her head with a smile.
"It seems so," Jean replied.
She hadn't expected it — even Venti was reading Fang Qiu's work.
Was it simply because the book was good?
Or did Lord Barbatos have some deeper intention behind it?
Venti looked carefree and unreliable on the surface — but she knew better. He was never as simple as he seemed.
If that was the case… perhaps she should read more of Fang Qiu's other books after all.
While Jean was lost in thought, Diona was collapsing into a chair on the other side of the tavern, every bone in her body aching with exhaustion.
Half of it was physical. Tonight's mixing volume and pace had far exceeded anything she'd dealt with before.
The other half was emotional.
She just hoped that tomorrow, she wouldn't have to see Commander Jean at Cat's Tail again…
And she hoped these customers would stop drinking like this. Ideally they'd just stop coming altogether.
"Haah…"
Diona sighed, stretching out a long, weary yawn. She pushed herself out of the chair and shuffled toward the exit.
Time to get some fresh air.
She stepped outside, a small white cat cradled in her arms, and almost immediately spotted that insufferable bard — Venti — strolling down the street.
"Hm? He's not drunk tonight?"
Diona blinked in genuine puzzlement.
Had he turned over a new leaf?
And he was carrying a book by Fang Qiu in his hand, too…
Meanwhile, Venti walked on through the quiet street.
The night breeze stirred the hem of his coat and sent strands of hair drifting softly at his temples.
He stopped walking.
He looked up at the bright moon hanging in the sky, and a faint, quiet sorrow rose behind his eyes.
He had finished The Eternal.
He had to admit — it was a truly remarkable novel. The final scene where Jack said goodbye to Rose had brought to mind something he had not thought of in a long, long time: the image of a certain young man, gravely wounded and fading, in the battle they had fought together against the King of the Lone Tower.
Dying in defiance.
That was a story worth being sung by him — the finest bard in all of Teyvat.
"I really want a glass of Dandelion Wine right now… no, actually — I want two!"
Venti continued his meandering walk, declaring this to the night air with an expression of deep and genuine anguish.
Truly, there was no greater suffering in this world than finishing a book that left your heart heavy — only to find you didn't have enough Mora left for even a single drink.
The cruelties of life.
"Maybe I should try my luck at Angel's Share?" Venti mused, rubbing his smooth chin thoughtfully. "Although… I only borrowed — well, no, took — two bottles from Grandpa Lu just yesterday. If I show up at Angel's Share now, they'll probably throw me straight out. Might even haul me before the Knights of Favonius to pay for damages. Probably not worth it."
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