"Dead drunkard—what are you doing!"
At Stone Gate, Rowan and Venti were calmly watching little Klee work her chain of blasts when a furious shout cracked the air behind them—and a rock-forged spear streaked straight for Venti.
Judging from the tone, the old man was truly angry.
Venti reflexively unraveled into a wisp of wind and slipped past the strike. Rowan flicked a thought; a golden veil flared into being and swallowed the spear whole. The instant it sank into the light, the link on Zhongli's end snapped.
Zhongli's face darkened. That spear had accompanied him since the Archon War—and Rowan had just… taken it?
That containment… it recalled the power of the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles. Only she could seal things so absolutely. But wasn't Rowan a traveler? How could he wield something so similar? Had he already established contact with Celestia?
He let the speculation go. He'd come here to teach Venti a lesson.
"Come out and die, drunkard!" Zhongli's voice rolled like thunder. "Who gave you the gall to blare that racket in my ear!"
Seeing Venti refuse to show himself, his gaze swept coldly across the ridge.
"Hey now, Zhongli—don't be angry," Rowan said, hands raised. "I asked him to call you over. But going for a kill-shot? Aren't you two on good terms?"
If Rowan had known how exactly Venti had "called" him, he wouldn't have defended the bard. He would've dragged Venti out by the scruff and let Zhongli pound him flat.
Zhongli's eyes narrowed. Another rock spear formed in his hand as he turned to Rowan. "You told him to pipe that clamor into my ear?"
"Yeah. What about it? I wanted some noise to bring you over so we could talk business." Rowan blinked, genuinely puzzled. "A little commotion, that's all. No need to fly into a rage, right?"
"A little—commotion?" Zhongli's voice trembled. "He amplified the sound a hundredfold and blasted it directly in my ear. You call that 'little'?"
"…Huh?" Rowan went slack-jawed.
He hadn't expected Venti to go that far—amplifying the blasts and feeding them straight to Zhongli's eardrum. Pulling a tiger's whiskers didn't begin to cover it.
"Do you know what I was doing?" Zhongli pressed on, anger barely leashed. "I was sitting beneath the thousand-year tree at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, savoring tea. The instant that din exploded, my favorite table—crafted from candle-glow grade Noctilucous Jade—shattered."
"And that fool acted like nothing had happened. Tell me—should I not be angry?"
He was truly furious. Repairing a table was trivial for him—but being toyed with? Again?
"The table stunt was last time," he added icily. "Earlier he even drafted a 'contract' in my hand and tore it himself. And now this. Barbatos—are you getting arrogant, or do you think Morax has grown too gentle to draw a blade?"
Rowan put both palms out fast. "I didn't tell him to do that. I only said 'make some noise so Zhongli hears and comes over.' How he chose to do it—I had no idea."
Zhongli absorbed that, then glanced downslope. The pattern of charges, the plumes, the slurry mixing—yes, they were building something. Roadwork. The binder they were mixing looked promising; it would harden into a surface far smoother than brick-laid paths. Bricks were durable but jarring under wheels. This "cement road" would be better by leagues.
He'd already seen the completed stretch near Springvale. As the Geo Archon, he knew at a glance how it was made—and this batch matched it near perfectly.
"You called me here to propose cooperation with Liyue?" he said at last. "This material is excellent. It will spur economic development. If that is your aim, I agree to a deal."
Rowan exhaled in relief. "Good. With your nod, I'm set. We're cutting the road here first to show intent. You know Mondstadt's mineral output is a drop compared to Liyue's. For this trade, we don't need mora. You provide raw materials—we'll build roads for you."
He added without missing a beat, "If you think our pace is too slow, buy the formula and do it yourselves. We still don't need mora—just pay in ores of all kinds. How about it, Zhongli?"
Simple, direct, scalable—the kind of deal both nations could stomach. And for Liyue, a mining powerhouse, "ores" were the easiest bill imaginable.
Zhongli nodded. "The principle is sound. But the details are not mine alone to decide. You can discuss them with Ningguang when she arrives." His gaze sharpened. "As for me—I have a drunkard to discipline."
He turned, cloak whispering like falling sand. "New grudges, old debts—he must be taught. Or who knows what offense he'll commit next."
He stepped off the ridge—and the wind carried a certain bard's yelp a heartbeat later.
Rowan watched the sky where a distant silhouette—an opulent palace of jade and gold—was already angling toward Stone Gate. The Jade Chamber was on the move. Perfect timing.
Down below, the charges bloomed in perfect sequence. Klee laughed, counting them off like fireworks.
Mondstadt's road to Liyue was being carved—stone by stone, blast by careful blast.
(End of Chapter)
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