Genshin Impact: Watch me turn the tables and kill my servants at the start!

Ying: I never expected I had a story too!

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The next morning, Fanes was awakened by the sounds of snoring coming from outside the tent.

When Fanes lifted the tent flap and peeked out, the scene outside left one momentarily speechless, unsure where to even begin to criticize.

There were twenty or thirty people lying haphazardly on the open ground. Some were sprawled on the grass with their faces up, some were curled up on their sides under the folding table, and some were asleep right next to the unfinished grill, with half of their sleeves still stained with sauce that had dripped from the night before.

Empty cups and bowls were scattered everywhere, and the speaker was still playing, emitting a distorted electrical noise every few seconds, like an old tin mouth that had been singing all night and was now talking in its sleep.

Fanes stood at the tent entrance for a while, as if using the morning light to reconfirm the correspondence between his current situation and fragments of memory. Then he spoke, his voice neither loud nor soft, as if stating a conclusion that had already been verified.

"I'm really fed up. You kept me up all night last night. I just managed to fall asleep before dawn, and as soon as I closed my eyes, you guys started snoring."

Fanes turned his head and glanced at the party organizer who was fast asleep on the open ground. The man was still holding an empty cup in his hand, and there was a dried drink stain on the corner of his mouth. He showed no signs of waking up.

Fanes decided to leave them alone. He turned and walked along the path outside the camp for a while, past a few tents, past the row of folding tables still littered with scraps of food from the previous night, and then headed toward the main tribe of Yanmi.

The mountain path was easier to walk in the morning than at night. The air was filled with the scent of dew and vegetation, and occasionally a few birds would fly through the treetops, their wingtips flashing in the morning light. He walked for about 45 minutes before stopping in front of the familiar courtyard.

Fanes raised his hand and knocked twice on the door, then stepped back half a step and waited.

There was a noise from inside the door. Footsteps approached and stopped behind the door, then the door was pulled open a crack about a foot wide.

Seth Lari stood inside the door, still wearing a light-colored morning gown, her hair loosely draped over her shoulders, as if she had just gotten up and hadn't had time to get properly tidied.

His gaze fell on Fanes' face through the crack in the door. He didn't immediately open the door, but kept it at a point just wide enough to see the person clearly. His expression carried a subtle "Why is this person here so early in the morning?"

Fanes stood outside the door, gave a slight bow, and offered a perfectly timed smile: "This beautiful lady, may I invite you—"

Before Fanes could finish speaking, the door was quickly closed shut through the gap in front of him, making a crisp, clean sound, and the latch followed suit.

A muffled thud came from the inside of the door, as if something had pressed against it, followed by rapid breathing and the soft rustling of fabric.

Sitella was leaning against the door, her hand covering her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were wider than usual, with a hint of moisture spreading around the edges of her pupils. It was hard to tell whether it was from the morning mist or because her heart rate had exceeded a threshold that would allow her to remain calm.

Seth Lari slowly slid down to the floor behind the door, burying her face in her knees, her voice carrying a low, almost uncontrollable lilt.

"What... Is this what they call a domineering CEO falling in love with someone hundreds of years old like me in novels? The plot came so suddenly... I wasn't prepared. I hadn't even changed my clothes or combed my hair properly when he stood at the door saying those kinds of things."

Fanes stood outside the door, looked down at the door that had just closed, then looked down at his empty hands, then turned his head and said something again towards the crack in the door, his tone calm.

"I'm here to discuss serious business with you, not to chat you up. If it's not convenient for you right now, I can come back later."

There was a moment of silence inside. Then the door was pulled open a little more, revealing a crack large enough for sound to pass clearly, and Sitale's voice came from inside, with a tone that seemed to be trying to calm herself: "...Then get to the point."

Fanes leaned against the doorframe: "Yakoda has returned to winter. I'll be leaving Nata soon too. Before I go, I wanted to confirm with you—that vegetable garden you mentioned before, would you like me to help arrange a few regular supply channels?"

Cetalli remained leaning against the inside of the door: "...That's it?"

Fanes said, "This is it."

There was a moment of silence inside the room, then Sitale spoke again: "So what were you originally planning to say after your first sentence—'This beautiful lady, may I invite you—'?"

Fanes thought for a moment: "I'd like to invite you to have breakfast together. I saw a scones stand on the roadside on my way here, and it looked delicious."

There was silence inside the door for a while. Then the door was pulled open a little, and a gaze peeked out from the crack, as if confirming the authenticity of the information in its own way. Then her voice came from the crack in the door.

"The sauce at that pancake stall is indeed homemade, and it tastes better than the other ones in town."

Fanes said, "Shall we eat together?"

Sitaleie paused for a moment, then spoke: "...Go wait at the stall. I'll change my clothes and come out. Don't wait for me at the door."

Fanes turned and walked towards the intersection: "Okay."

Meanwhile, on the distant edge of the Sumeru Desert, Ying was squatting under a dead poplar tree, drinking water.

A sudden, unexpected sneeze nearly made her drop the water bottle. She rubbed her nose and looked up at the sand dunes gleaming golden in the morning light. "Strange," she thought, "who's talking about me?"

Paimon, standing beside her, was brushing off a grain of sand that had gotten onto the edge of his wing: "It might be someone you met before. Or someone you owe money to. Or someone you owe money to who's been nagging you about it."

Ying put down the kettle: "...You're right."