Genshin Impact, I'm Slime

Yusupov's deep voice echoed in the stone hall, and the crisp sound of wine glasses clinking against the stone table occasionally broke the silence of the cave.

The diplomat, who was approaching winter, had already drunk his seventh glass of wine. An unnatural flush rose on his pale cheeks, and his fingers unconsciously traced the gold thread pattern on the rim of the glass.

He was using exaggerated gestures to describe to Zhiyi a grand blueprint for the future, how the Fools would support him to become the youngest star in Liyue, and how they would use the resources of Winterfall to build him an impregnable power.

Zhiyi maintained a perfectly proper sitting posture, leaning slightly forward with his hands folded on his knees. Whenever the other person mentioned a key point, he would nod appropriately and make a short, trilling sound of agreement, like a student devoutly listening to his teacher's teachings.

Behind this facade of friendship lies a hidden undercurrent of scheming.

Since the Golden House incident, the Fatui's situation in Liyue has been completely transformed.

In his quest for the Heart of God, Tartaglia unleashed the Vortex Demon in the harbor, causing towering waves. Ningguang used all the power of the harbor and sacrificed the Jade Pavilion to suppress it, which completely destroyed the fragile peace between Winter and Liyue.

A large number of Fool's envoys were expelled, but those like Yusupov, who were deliberately left behind, continued to eke out a living in Liyue Harbor like prisoners.

Ningguang's vision and understanding of the game have always been profound. Rather than completely severing ties with Zhidong, it would be better to leave a few windows open to observe the movements of the Fools.

This move not only maintains the last fig leaf of diplomatic etiquette, but also allows the General Affairs Department's undercover agents to weave an invisible giant net.

However, for Yusupov, staying in Liyue was nothing short of torture.

He became the most unpopular figure in Liyue Harbor. The omnipresent gazes were like a leech, with spies from the General Affairs Department and vigilant citizens in the streets all watching him closely.

Every time Yusupov stepped out of the embassy gate, it felt like he was stepping into enemy territory.

Even purchasing the most basic necessities, such as a bottle of inferior Liyue shochu, has become a luxury. Liyue merchants either shake their heads indifferently or simply ignore it, silently displaying the sign that they do not sell to the Fatui.

Even the children of Liyue Harbor, upon seeing his unusual grayish-white skin and icy blue eyes, would throw stones at him from afar, shouting for this white-skinned hyena to go back to Winter.

Thinking of the treatment he had received, Yusupov tilted his head back and drank the rest of the wine in his glass in one gulp.

As his Adam's apple bobbed, murky liquor slid down the corner of his mouth, soaking the already yellowed felt scarf at his collar.

The sour, musty smell of the cheap fabric made him frown, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation he suffered when buying it on the black market.

Unable to purchase essential supplies through official channels, Yusupov, a heavy drinker, had no choice but to don tattered Liyue attire and head to the port's black market.

But his unusually pale complexion and his striking blue eyes, which shone like ice crystals in the darkness, constantly revealed his alien identity.

The masked black market dealers would glance at him with the same eyes they would use to appraise livestock, offering him moldy smoked meat and watered-down liquor, but then fawning over him when he took out Mora.

The 20-year-old Liyue vintage wine presented by Zhiyi before him, with its clear and lingering aftertaste and the unique bamboo leaf fragrance of Liyue, made him feel as if he had returned to that snowy night three years ago.

When he first arrived in Liyue Harbor, he stood on Jade Capital Terrace in his brand-new uniform, and envoys from various countries vied to raise their glasses and flatter him...

Yusupov hasn't tasted the fine wine that Zhiyi brought him in a long time.

Now that we have the chance, we should naturally drink to our hearts' content.

"Your foresight and wisdom have truly enlightened me."

Zhiyi's humble compliments brought Yusupov back to reality.

The young man's movements as he poured the wine were fluid and graceful; the amber-colored wine stream fell precisely into the glass without a single drop spilling.

This wine has a clear and bright color, a rich and lingering aroma, and a mellow and smooth taste.

Yusupov couldn't remember the last time he had tasted such pure and delicious wine.

At this moment, the alcohol numbed his tense nerves and amplified Yusupov's long-suppressed desires. He greedily drank one glass after another, wanting only to sink deeper into this fleeting, illusory solace.

Yusupov thus became immersed in the numbness brought on by alcohol and the illusions woven by knowledge, completely unaware that danger was already close at hand.

Just a few feet away from their stone table, behind a pile of straw that smelled musty and was riddled with insect damage, several figures stood frozen like stone sculptures.

The traveler, Paimon, and Night Orchid, like hunters slithering into the shadows, had already silently followed the trail to this place.

They held their breath, pressed their bodies against the cold, damp rock wall, and perfectly concealed themselves in the shadows cast by the haystacks.

Paimon's little hand gripped the traveler's clothes tightly, while his other hand covered his mouth. His big eyes were wide open, staring intently at the two figures clinking glasses outside the straw, clearly catching every whispered word about conspiracy and betrayal.

The silence of the cave provided perfect cover for their eavesdropping; only Yusupov's satisfied swallowing, Zhiyi's humble agreement, and the soft sound of wine sliding down his throat remained.

A gust of cold wind suddenly blew in from the crack in the rock above, lifting Yusupov's messy hair.

He gazed at the cave ceiling through his drunken, hazy eyes, completely unaware that the cold words about poison, fish soup, and the teacher had already been clearly heard by the people behind the haystack.

"Waaah!"

Paimon quickly covered his mouth with his little hand, swallowing back the scream that almost escaped his lips.

Her small body trembled violently with shock. She then abruptly turned her head to look at the traveler and Yelan beside her, and hissed in a low, urgent voice:
"Traveler! Night Orchid! Did you...did you hear that?!"

"Poisoning... Uncle Tian... he's been feeling so unwell lately, it was Zhiyi, it was Zhiyi who did it!"

"He really is a big bad guy! Let's rush in and grab him, right now!"

Paimon waved his little fists in the air, almost unable to stop himself from rushing out, but Yelan quickly stopped him.

"Not urgent."

Ye Lan's voice rang out, deep and steady, like a frozen lake, without a ripple.

She didn't even look at Paimon; her emerald eyes remained fixed on the two people drinking together in the stone hall through the cracks in the rock. A faint, cold smile played on her lips, as if a hunter were watching his prey step into a carefully laid trap.

Ye Lan tilted her head slightly, lowering her voice considerably, and asked the blonde girl beside her:

"Traveler, shouldn't you carry a commemorative camera with you at all times?"

"If you didn't bring yours, use mine for now... Wouldn't it be a waste not to record such an interesting scene permanently?"

With extremely subtle movements, Youke took out a palm-sized, precision instrument from a specially made brocade pouch at his waist. The instrument's casing gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen, and its lens shimmered faintly in the dim light.

The word "interesting" came from her lips with the cold appreciation that intelligence workers have for irrefutable evidence.

The traveler understood and silently accepted the exquisite camera that Ye Lan handed him, the cold metallic touch reaching his fingertips.

The girl held her breath and carefully aimed the camera at the gap in the rock crevice, adjusting the angle.

Inside the stone hall, in the dim light, Yusupov was raising his glass and drinking, his face bearing the arrogance and sense of control characteristic of the Fools.

Zhiyi still wore that nauseatingly obsequious smile, humbly pouring wine for the other person, his lowered eyelids concealing an abyss of darkness.

The moment the two clinked glasses, their false friendship and sinister deal were clearly captured on the specially designed photosensitive chip inside the phonograph. (End of Chapter)