Chapter 854
A Battleground! Zhongli's Helplessness!
Su Chen didn't say anything more, just nodded to her as if he had only said "the weather is nice today," then turned around and slowly left along the way he came, leaving the frozen lake and the female knight who was experiencing a violent storm in her heart behind.
Yura stood there for a long time, watching the unfamiliar figure disappear into the wind and snow, her sword hanging down in her hand.
The cold wind whipped up her long, icy blue hair and brushed against her slightly flushed cheeks.
"Do you believe... me?" she repeated softly. In her deep blue eyes, in the depths of that perpetually frozen, lonely ice, for the first time, a faint but real starlight, belonging to her own, shone through.
In different fragments of time, Su Chen left behind the mellow aroma of cider, the promise of the Star Conch, and a word of "belief" that broke the ice.
These tiny ripples will eventually flow into their respective rivers of time, and perhaps at some point in the future, they will converge again with his "present moment" in the Hall of Rebirth, stirring up new stories.
The first person to come to us was Yura.
Su Ran remained completely calm in the face of this situation.
They chose to accept Ningguang and Shenhe's items together, as per the list.
When Yura came to visit, the first light rain of the spring was falling in Liyue Harbor.
She didn't use the main entrance.
The guerrilla captain of the Knights of the West Wind scaled the low wall of the Hall of Rebirth with the lightness of a hawk, without even disturbing the copper bells on the eaves.
When she landed, her long, icy blue hair was covered with tiny water droplets, and her breathing was slightly rapid, clearly indicating that she had traveled all the way from Mondstadt.
Su Chen was brewing tea under the eaves.
Seeing her land in the courtyard, he merely raised his eyes, calmly saying, "You've arrived."
Yura stood there, pursing her lips, letting the raindrops drip down her hair.
She offered no pleasantries or explanations, but simply gazed at him with her deep blue eyes, usually cold and stern, but now slightly reddened.
“You’ve disappeared,” she said, her voice strained, “just like back then by the frozen lake.”
Su Chen did not deny it.
“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” Yura paused, as if restraining something. “I’ll remember this grudge.”
It was that same habitual tic, but the last syllable trembled.
Beneath that forced coldness lay a cautious unease, a fear of being abandoned again.
Su Chen put down his teacup, stood up, and walked to her.
He reached out and brushed away the lingering ice crystals on her shoulder, the touch cool to the touch.
“I know,” he said, “which is why I’m here now, not gone.”
Yura lowered her eyes, and after a long while, she gave a very soft "hmm".
Shen He, standing in the corridor, held another cup of tea and watched this scene without saying a word.
Her gaze lingered on Yura's clenched fist for a moment before returning to her own cup.
Another one.
She didn't ask, "When did you meet her?" or "What is your relationship?"
She simply finished the cooled tea slowly, got up, and went to get a dry handkerchief.
When handing it to Yura, Shinhak said calmly, "Dry yourself. You'll catch a cold."
Yura was taken aback, took the handkerchief, looked at the silver-haired woman with a cold and aloof temperament whom she had never met before, and then looked at Su Chen.
Su Chen's introduction was simple: "Shen He".
Yura nodded. She didn't ask "Who are you?" or "What is your relationship with him?"
The Wave Rider is proud and disdains to beg for answers by asking questions.
She simply tucked the handkerchief into her hair and whispered, "Thanks."
In the days that followed, a figure in icy blue appeared more often in the daily routine of the Hall of Rebirth.
Yura was a woman of few words. Her good upbringing, inherited from the Lawrence family, made her poised and dignified in any situation, even when she was just sitting on the veranda lost in thought.
She was used to getting up early to practice swordsmanship, and Shen He would sometimes watch from the side. The two of them were separated by half a courtyard, each practicing their own. Occasionally their eyes would meet, and they would nod slightly, which was considered a greeting.
Ningguang found this quite interesting.
"Oh my, is this the Wave Knight of Mondstadt?" She leaned back on the soft couch, her purple eyes darting around, scrutinizing Yura as if she were examining a newly acquired treasure. "I've heard so much about you. A descendant of the Lawrence family... Hmm, certainly an extraordinary presence."
Yura frowned slightly.
She knew better than anyone what the surname Lawrence meant in Mondstadt.
Ningguang's casual "I've long admired you" made it hard for her not to feel that she was being probed or mocked.
But Ningguang immediately changed the subject, smiling as she said, "Since you've come to Liyue, you're a guest of the Hall of Rebirth. If you have some free time, why not visit the Jade Pavilion?"
I have a large collection of ancient Mondstadt texts; perhaps some of them will interest you.
Yura's brow relaxed.
She could tell that the eyes of this Celestial didn't hold the scrutiny and wariness typical of Mondstadtians, but only pure curiosity and the instinctive urge of a superior to win over an "interesting person."
“…Thank you,” she said briefly, neither refusing nor agreeing.
Ningguang didn't seem to care, leisurely fanning herself, but her peripheral vision had already drifted towards Su Chen under the corridor, carrying a hint of "see, I haven't caused any trouble" to her name.
Su Chen gave her a look that said, "You better be."
Ningguang gave a soft "humph" and turned her head away.
These kinds of minor clashes happen almost every day at the Rebirth Hall.
The most harmonious pair is Shinhak and Yura.
Both of them were taciturn and not good at expressing themselves. They had both walked alone on the fringes of the world for many years before being gently drawn into the mortal realm by Su Chen.
Perhaps it is this similarity that gives them a strange tacit understanding when they are together.
Shen He would quietly place warm tea in Youla's usual spot, and Youla would bring a bunch of dew-kissed tea leaves when she returned from her morning exercise and place them on Shen He's windowsill.
There were no words of thanks, no small talk, but they understood each other perfectly.
Occasionally, when she was in a fit of emotion, such as when Yura caught Shen He standing too close to Su Chen, she would coldly say, "Mind your distance."
Shen He replied calmly, "You're not far away either."
Yura choked, turned her face away, and her ears turned slightly red.
Then there is no more.
Ningguang watched from the side, fanning herself and smiling slightly, occasionally adding fuel to the fire: "Miss Shenhe is right. Knight Yura, your sword tassel is almost brushing against Su Keqing's face."
Yura glared at her.
Ningguang blinked innocently.
The powder keg of contradictions is often ignited by Ningguang.
This Tianquan star seems to be inherently intolerant of tranquility.
Whenever the Hall of Rebirth falls into a delicate harmony, she always reaches out to stir it up and see what ripples she can create.
"Su Chen." One afternoon, she leaned against the soft couch, looking at Shen He and You La sitting quietly in the corridor, and asked leisurely, "Who do you think has the better swordsmanship, Miss Shen He or Knight You La?"
Su Chen paused in turning the pages of the book.
Shen He raised his eyes, and Yura raised hers.
"Or perhaps," Ningguang continued with a smile, "that in someone's heart, the level of swordsmanship is actually unimportant, what matters is the distraction during sparring?"
Su Chen put down the book.
He rose, walked to the soft couch, and leaned down under Ningguang's increasingly amused gaze.
He raised his hand and, very lightly, patted her round, pert buttocks, perfectly encased in a black and gold cheongsam.
The crisp sound could be heard throughout the courtyard.
Ningguang's smile froze on her face.
Shen He looked away, lowered his head to drink his tea, and his ear tips turned slightly red.
Yura turned her face away, gazing at the copper bell on the eaves, but the corners of her lips curved slightly for a moment.
"Lord Ningguang." Su Chen withdrew his hand, his tone as calm as ever, "If you have some free time, why don't you check the budget for the new business of the Hall of Rebirth?"
Ningguang covered her back, her purple eyes shimmering with tears, it was hard to tell whether she was ashamed or angry.
“…You’re bullying me.” She said in a muffled voice, but the tone was soft like a child’s whine, completely lacking the majesty of Tianquan Star.
"You asked for it." Su Chen had already sat back down and reopened the book.
Ningguang bit her lip, glared at him for a long time, and finally didn't dare to say anything more.
But the peace lasted only three days. "Su Chen, Knight Yura's sword intent was exceptionally sharp during her morning practice today. Did you go to her room last night?"
"Ningguang." Su Chen put down his pen.
"Oh dear, I was just asking casually, don't tell me again—"
"Snapped."
“…Ugh.”
Shen He and Yura exchanged a glance, then looked away from each other.
They were used to this scene.
Strangely, no one felt neglected.
Su Chen treated Shen He like a cup of hot tea at the perfect temperature after the snow had just stopped.
Daiyula is the figure that silently stands in front of you when the cold wave strikes.
Waiting for light to condense is a "punishment" that, while seemingly frivolous, actually sets boundaries.
And each of them responded in their own way.
When Shen He was working at his desk late into the night, he would replace the cold tea with warm tea, without saying a word, only meeting Shen He's eyes, which were filled with moonlight, when Shen He looked up.
When Yura returned from her expedition, she placed a rare Ice Mist Flower on his windowsill with a note attached. The handwriting was sharp as a sword: "Just passing by. I didn't bring it for you on purpose. I'll remember this grudge."
Condensation...
After being slapped so hard, Ningguang deliberately rubbed her back in front of Shenhe and Youla, her eyes sparkling, her voice aggrieved: "Su Chen's hand was too heavy, it must be red now, can you two take a look?"
Shen He turned and left.
Yura pretended not to hear.
Su Chen looked at her "clumsy yet playful" appearance and sighed softly.
Then I'll take the same photos again next time.
Zhongli has given up intervening.
He learned to take the teapot to the most secluded corner of the courtyard in advance when Ningguang came to visit, turn his back to everyone, face the vigorous pine tree, and enter a state of "meditation".
The noise around me.
Yura's cool "You stepped on my cloak," Shen He's calm "It's because you got too close," Ningguang's feigned grievance "Su Chen, look, they're bullying me again," and that familiar, crisp voice that inevitably rings out when someone never learns their lesson—
"Snapped."
Zhongli closed his eyes.
A thousand-year-old state of mind, as solid as a rock, as still as water.
...like ashes.
“Mr. Zhongli,” Hu Tao appeared out of nowhere, sitting down next to him with a bowl of melon seeds, “Why do you stare at the tree all day long?”
Zhongli remained silent for a long time.
“...Observing trees is also a form of spiritual practice.”
Hu Tao tilted her head to look at the pine tree, then at him, and said "Oh" as if she understood, before cracking open a sunflower seed.
The afternoon at Wangsheng Hall was still noisy.
Su Chen sat on the veranda, with Shen He standing quietly to his left and You La holding a sword to his right. Directly in front of him, Ning Guang leaned against a soft couch, her purple eyes looking at him with a mix of reproach and a smile, her skirt spreading out like clouds dyed with gold ink.
He recalled many years ago when he first entered this world, standing under the banyan tree at the entrance of Qixia Village, gazing at the unfamiliar sky, unsure of what lay ahead.
Today, this small courtyard has gathered bonds that transcend time, space, and national boundaries.
He will still inadvertently slip into the cracks of time, heading to some "shore" he has never set foot on, leaving behind new threads.
But he knew that no matter how far he wandered, this anchor would always be tied to this noisy courtyard.
There was Shen He, who would quietly refill his tea when it got cold; there was You La, who would awkwardly place ice mist flowers on his windowsill after returning from an expedition; and there was Ning Guang, who was always getting beaten up but never learned her lesson, yet whose purple eyes grew brighter and softer with each passing day.
There are many more "creditors" who are on their way or will eventually be encountered.
They were his bond, and also his refuge.
The copper bells on the eaves tinkled, struck by a gust of wind from who-knows-where.
Su Chen withdrew his gaze from the distance and picked up the cup of tea, which was at just the right temperature.
Amidst the fragrant aroma of tea, a faint smile curved his lips, a smile he himself was unaware of.
These days, there's no peace and quiet anymore.
But he doesn't dislike it.
Seeing him lost in thought, Ningguang's eyes darted around, and she had another wicked thought.
"Su Chen," she said softly, drawing out the last syllable, "that slap was too hard, it still hurts. Aren't you going to comfort me?"
Su Chen put down his teacup and stood up.
Ningguang's purple eyes lit up, and a triumphant smile just appeared on her lips.
Su Chen had already walked around the soft couch and stood beside her.
Bend over.
Raise your hand.
"Snapped."
Ningguang covered her back, her purple eyes brimming with tears, looking as aggrieved as a cat that had been kicked off the table.
"...How could you do this?"
Su Chen looked at her, a slight smile playing on his lips.
“Lord Ningguang,” he said, “Next time you want to be beaten, you can just say so.”
Ningguang was taken aback.
Immediately, her stunningly beautiful face turned red from her ears to her collar at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"...Who, who wants to get beaten up!"
She swiftly unfolded her folding fan, covering half her face, revealing only a pair of shimmering purple eyes that glared at Su Chen, yet held no intimidation whatsoever.
Behind the fan, however, a very light, uncontrollable smile played on her lips—
It bends.
Under the eaves, Shen He quietly sipped his tea.
Yura held her sword, looked at the copper bell on the eaves, and a very faint smile curved her lips.
Today, the ancestral hall is as bustling and peaceful as ever.
In the corner of the courtyard, Zhongli finally deciphered the 837th essence of "tree observation" from the texture of the pine tree.
He put down his teacup, stood up, and walked towards the inner hall with his hands behind his back.
Behind me, there was Hu Tao's crisp laughter, Ning Guang's coquettish whispers that sounded both reproachful and resentful, You La's cool, low rebuke, Shen He's calm urging of tea, and that crisp sound that could ring out at any moment—
"Snapped".
Zhongli kept walking.
This shrine to the deceased will never be quiet again.
But it's not too bad either.
At least the tea is still good tea.
However, Klee and Wendy haven't come yet.
Klee understands.
He's just a kid who likes fried fish.
Where can one come from such a far place?
Immediately afterwards, Su Ran became very familiar with the process.
Capabilities activated!
This time vortex is different from any other before.
It didn't throw Su Chen to a specific location or era, but rather swept him into a bizarre dimension where information and consciousness surged like a torrent.
Here, the linearity of time completely disappears, replaced by countless branches of possibilities, fragments of memory, rivers of knowledge, and a grand and compassionate pulse, like the heartbeat of a planet. (End of Chapter)