Zhongli was genuinely taken aback.
He had not expected Futsu Mitama to possess a basalt pillar of such exceptional quality. Even in Liyue, this kind of item was exceedingly rare.
For most people—those without elemental sight—it was nothing more than a beautifully patterned stone. Yet to those well-versed in mineral lore, or to Vision bearers attuned to the elements, its true value was unmistakable.
Geo-elemental creatures understood it even more instinctively.
Geovishap Hatchlings and Geovishaps alike regarded basalt pillars as treasures of evolution. A hatchling that consumed one could rapidly mature into a formidable Geovishap. A fully grown Geovishap, upon devouring such a pillar, would gain immense strength—perhaps even grasping the chance to evolve into an ancient Primo Geovishap.
If Futsu Mitama were aware of these hidden truths, he would likely understand why Liben had once been chased relentlessly by Geovishaps and their young.
This basalt pillar was no ordinary resource—it was a natural treasure, capable of reshaping fate through consumption alone.
"…!"
Old Zhang, who had been silently observing, reacted no less strongly. The moment his eyes fell upon the basalt pillar, his composure shattered. This was item worth millions of mora—no, something even more terrifying: priceless, unobtainable through ordinary trade.
From the auxiliary materials alone, Old Zhang had already inferred Futsu Mitama's intention—to forge high-grade Geo-element armor. And now, seeing the main material—
"Wait—wait a moment!!"
Old Zhang hurried forward, placing himself squarely in front of Futsu Mitama. The seasoned blacksmith, who had spent decades by the furnace, now wore an expression of barely restrained excitement.
"Young man," he said quickly, voice trembling with fervor, "it must have taken you great effort to gather these materials."
"To avoid any risk of failure—why not allow me to assist in the forging? Our Cold Steel Weapons has stood in Liyue for over a century. If anything goes wrong, I swear I will compensate you double the value of every material!"
"Oh—right!" He nearly shouted. "I'll even pay you mora! Just let me forge it!"
As he spoke, Old Zhang was already reaching for his pouch.
Zhongli let out a soft chuckle, amusement glinting in his eyes. How long had it been since he last witnessed a craftsman so thoroughly undone by the sight of a true treasure?
Futsu Mitama, meanwhile, could only smile wryly.
He understood Old Zhang's reaction all too well.
The auxiliary materials, while valuable, amounted to less than a million mora in total. But the basalt pillar itself existed on an entirely different level—something no sum of mora could easily measure. Had it not been for the basalt pillar, Futsu Mitama might never have even considered forging armor for Aila in the first place.
That pillar was the core—everything else came second.
As a seasoned blacksmith, Old Zhang could immediately tell how arduous it must have been to gather such a complete set of materials. Any piece of equipment forged from them would possess an extraordinarily high baseline quality. And if the smith's skill were refined enough, the final result could be elevated even further.
Such a creation would not merely be armor—it could become a masterpiece.
A single work like that was enough to establish a reputation, to earn recognition from the Adeptus, and perhaps even draw the attention of the Archon himself. That was precisely why Old Zhang was willing to pay out of his own pocket just for the chance to take part.
To put it plainly: I'll pay you—just let me forge it.
"That won't do."
Futsu Mitama shook his head, his gaze steady as he looked at Old Zhang.
"This armor is for my little maid. I can't let anyone else handle it."
"Maid?"
Several invisible question marks seemed to pop up above Old Zhang's head. He knew the term—borrowed from Mondstadt, akin to a retainer—but whose maid required armor worth millions of mora?
Still, seeing the firm refusal, Old Zhang did not press further. He merely stepped aside, watching with undisguised envy. No blacksmith could remain unmoved in the face of such temptation.
"Need a hand?"
At that moment, Zhongli spoke. His interest in the forging process was evident, and he calmly offered his assistance.
Futsu Mitama accepted without hesitation, even smiling as he teased, "Mr. Zhongli, you understand the art of forging as well?"
"A little," Zhongli replied with a faint smile, already moving to help.
And so, within the Cold Iron Smithy, the two set to work. Though it was their first collaboration, their movements aligned with remarkable tacit understanding, as though they had done this countless times before.
Watching from the side, Old Zhang suddenly slapped his forehead. "Ah! How could I forget—I can assist too!"
Judging from Futsu Mitama's material-handling techniques alone, this young man was anything but ordinary. The armor he forged would undoubtedly be extraordinary. Even serving as an assistant would be more than enough to satisfy Old Zhang.
Before the forging truly began, Zhongli asked, "What type of armor do you plan to make?"
Armor came in many forms, after all—far beyond simple physical protection. Even the Hilichurl Berserkers outside Liyue Harbor knew to reinforce their shields with Geo energy.
"I'm planning a defensive catalyst, primarily based on the Geo element," Futsu Mitama replied as he refined the materials in his hands, then passed them to Zhongli.
Zhongli gathered the components, his eyes briefly thoughtful. "A Geo-based defensive catalyst—That will not be easy."
Elemental catalysts were notoriously difficult to forge. The mass-produced weapons used by Fatui soldiers in Snezhnaya were proof enough—serviceable, but crude, their only merit lying in raw destructive power.
What Futsu Mitama intended was a high-grade Geo catalyst, forged specifically for Aila. That would test not only technique, but experience.
Still, Zhongli did not mind. If things went awry, he would intervene.
Part of his reason for assisting was to ensure the catalyst could be completed efficiently. The other part was simpler—Aila was now Cloud Retainer's disciple. As such, she deserved a gift.
After all, Adeptus disciples were rare. In the past several centuries, only Shenhe truly stood out. Now, at last, there was Aila. Once the news spread, the Adeptus of Liyue would undoubtedly dote on her without restraint.
"What form do you intend to give it?" Zhongli asked.
He had finished refining the auxiliary materials and turned his attention to Futsu Mitama, who was carefully working on the basalt pillar.
"For a girl, a necklace, bracelet, or ring would all be suitable. They're practical and aesthetically pleasing. If carving becomes troublesome, I can handle it."
A thin sheen of sweat appeared on Futsu Mitama's forehead as he slowly extracted a square crystal from within the basalt pillar.
"A bracelet," he said quietly. "As for the carving—I'll have to trouble you with that, Mr. Zhongli."
At this moment, he dared not breathe too heavily. The square crystal was the condensed essence of the Geo element itself. Whether this catalyst would succeed depended first on whether he could extract it flawlessly.
Zhongli nodded and returned to his work.
Time passed, minute by minute.
Zhongli used Geo energy to cleanse the auxiliary materials of all impurities before placing them into the furnace. Under intense heat, they melted together into a shimmering pool of liquid.
Then, before Old Zhang's astonished eyes, that molten mass took shape—compressed and guided by Zhongli's precise control—forming a silver-white bracelet.
Old Zhang's eyes widened.
Such refined control was far beyond what ordinary Vision bearers could achieve. Zhongli moved as though he had repeated this process countless times.
Meanwhile, Futsu Mitama completed the extraction.
At Zhongli's signal, the silver-white bracelet floated over. "The base is complete. Insert the basalt crystal, then proceed with the carving."
Without a word, Futsu Mitama placed the crystal upon the bracelet.
Activating Geo energy, he melted the crystal into a pale golden liquid, which merged seamlessly with the bracelet. The silver-white sheen deepened, turning a soft gold as powerful Geo fluctuations surged within.
Soon, that energy began to leak outward—a dangerous sign.
Ordinarily, a blacksmith would encase the item and wait days for the energy to stabilize. That was how Futsu Mitama had forged the tachis for Aila and Kuki Shinobu before.
But this time, he chose another path. Purple lightning flared in his eyes as he released the authority of the Electro Archon.
Above Liyue Harbor, dark clouds gathered without warning. Such phenomena only appeared when Archon-level power was invoked.
Madam Ping, chatting with Xiangling below, looked up in surprise. Hadn't the Raiden Shogun's retainer gone with Cloud Retainer? Why was he here again—and using Archon authority?
Yet there was no trace of battle.
Zhongli observed calmly, making no move to stop him.
Under the pressure of the Electro Archon Authority, the leaking Geo energy was forcibly compressed back into the bracelet. Its color deepened further, settling into a rich, earthen yellow.
An eye—solemn and godlike—etched itself into the surface as a pattern.
With a soft hum, the Chakra Desiderata vanished.
Futsu Mitama staggered slightly, his face pale.
"Mr. Zhongli," he said, handing the bracelet over, "the remaining carving and tests are up to you."
The Geo energy within was now stable. Zhongli accepted it, understanding unspokenly that Futsu Mitama had left more within than mere materials.
Old Zhang stood frozen, mouth slightly agape. To forge such an artifact in mere hours—was this truly possible?
At that moment—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Applause echoed through the smithy.
They turned to see Tartaglia standing there, smiling brightly. "Oh my~ What a coincidence."
He had rushed back upon hearing that Zhongli and Futsu Mitama were forging something together. The sudden storm clouds had confirmed it—Electro Archon authority had been used.
Thankfully, it wasn't a fight.
Hu Tao, carrying Homa on her back, sighed when she saw him. "You again? Don't even think about fighting. Repeat offenders get fifteen days in jail, you know."
"Relax, relax," Tartaglia laughed, raising his hands. "I'm not here to fight."
Then, with undisguised enthusiasm, he added, "I'm here to treat you all. I've reserved a table at Xinyue Kiosk. Their Moon Cuisine is famous—even I don't get to eat there often."
He looked between Zhongli and Futsu Mitama, eyes bright.
"Well? Care to join me?"
Tartaglia was not surprised that Futsu Mitama had established contact with the Liyue Qixing in such a short span of time. If the Qixing were not fools, they would naturally take the initiative—just as he had.
Futsu Mitama did not answer immediately. Instead, he cast a glance toward Zhongli, as if asking, "Mr. Zhongli, what do you think?"
"Not today," Zhongli replied, shaking his head slightly. He raised the earthy-yellow bracelet in his hand and spoke calmly. "I need some time to engrave this. However, if circumstances allow, I can attend another time."
Zhongli's polite refusal, couched in the need to finish the bracelet, drew a faint trace of regret across Tartaglia's face. He turned his gaze toward Futsu Mitama, eyes filled with expectation.
Being stared at so directly, Futsu Mitama could only respond with a helpless expression. He was well aware that Tartaglia could, in a sense, be treated as a friend—but that was precisely why he did not wish to have too much contact with him.
The reason was simple.
Once Tartaglia found a proper excuse, there was no telling whether he would cling on relentlessly. Worse still, this was someone who could be laughing with you one moment, then launch an attack without warning the next.
He was the type to say, "Sorry—even between friends," and then proceed to show absolutely no mercy until his objective was achieved.
Because of that, Futsu Mitama's stance toward Tartaglia had always been clear: They could communicate, but at a distance. Accept the sugar coating, but throw the cannonball back.
Only Tartaglia could be treated this way. If it were Il Dottore, La Signora, or Scaramouche, Futsu Mitama's reaction would be far more straightforward: Stay away from me—or I'll cut you down.
At the very least, Tartaglia would offer a sugar-coated shell. The others would offer a fake one—or worse, a poisoned one.
Scaramouche, perhaps, was marginally more "honest." What he said he would give, he usually did—but most of what he gave was nothing anyone would want.
Just as Futsu Mitama was about to refuse—
Tartaglia spoke first, as though he had already anticipated the rejection.
"Don't be so quick," he said with a smile. "You do know I'm currently the Fatui's representative in Liyue, right? But in a few days, I won't be the only one anymore."
His tone remained light, yet his words carried weight.
"I mean no harm to you. But the one who's coming next…" Tartaglia paused briefly, then shrugged. "I can't guarantee he shares my goodwill."
To avoid being turned down outright, Tartaglia revealed confidential Fatui intelligence: another Harbinger was coming to Liyue.
Kuki Shinobu frowned, her gaze fixed on his smiling face as if trying to discern what lay beneath it. She disliked Tartaglia, yet she had to admit—his way of dealing with people was fundamentally different from La Signora or Scaramouche. But if another Harbinger were to arrive—
The currently restrained Fatui would undoubtedly grow restless. And if that Harbinger were anything like La Signora or Scaramouche, then Liyue would hardly remain peaceful.
"What are you getting at?" Futsu Mitama asked calmly. "If it's just pleasantries, there's no need to continue."
Tartaglia understood immediately.
Futsu Mitama was tempted—but he was not someone who would show his hand without seeing tangible value first.
Tartaglia was generous and often spent Il Dottore's mora freely to build connections, but he was no fool. He knew exactly who was worth investing in.
Even if Futsu Mitama went directly to the Qixing, he would eventually learn of the incoming Harbinger. But that would only give him a name—nothing more.
Intentions, plans, hidden motives—those were not things the Qixing could easily uncover.
That was why Tartaglia chose to reveal the information himself, maintaining the initiative.
"Nothing complicated," he said lightly. "I'd just like to discuss it over dinner. Talking while eating makes things easier."
His smile was friendly, his tone nonthreatening—but his stance was unmistakable.
No dinner, no conversation.
"All right."
Futsu Mitama agreed.
He looked at Tartaglia and smiled faintly. "Coincidentally, I didn't eat much for lunch. I've also been curious about Xinyue Kiosk's cuisine. I'll trouble you to cover the bill."
Kuki Shinobu said nothing further, simply standing quietly at his side.
"Excellent! Let's head there now!" Tartaglia was visibly pleased. Regardless of Futsu Mitama's true thoughts, as long as he agreed to the dinner, everything else could be negotiated.
Before parting, Zhongli stated that once the bracelet was fully engraved, he would personally deliver it.
Futsu Mitama expressed his thanks.
And with that, Tartaglia departed with Futsu Mitama and Kuki Shinobu.
—
"Sigh…"
Director Hu let out a soft sigh as she watched them leave.
Standing beside Zhongli, she said helplessly, "I really don't know what that Fatui Harbinger is plotting."
"He's been eyeing Futsu Mitama since the moment he arrived in Liyue, and he still hasn't given up. Good thing Futsu Mitama isn't a girl—otherwise I'd think he was being pursued."
Even now, Director Hu still found time to joke.
Zhongli merely smiled helplessly as he picked up his tools and began engraving the bracelet with measured care, quietly leaving behind something of his own.
Aila would surely be moved when she received it.
"Speaking of which—" Director Hu suddenly seemed to recall something. She turned toward Zhongli, eyes widening slightly. "That Tartaglia invites you out quite often too. Don't tell me he's actually interested in men—?"
Her expression grew increasingly alarmed. Though she was not particularly old-fashioned, this line of thought felt far too avant-garde.
"…."
Zhongli fell silent, his expression growing subtly complicated. This child truly was difficult to deal with.
Why would she jump to that conclusion?
At that moment, Zhongli resolved—quite firmly—that he should probably minimize contact with Tartaglia in the future. Otherwise, his reputation might become—troublesome.
—
Meanwhile, at Xinyue Kiosk.
Under Tartaglia's invitation, Futsu Mitama and Kuki Shinobu had arrived. Just two days earlier, they had eaten [Liyue Cuisine] at Liuli Pavilion. Now, they were about to sample Xinyue Kiosk's famed [Moon Cuisine]. (One of them should be the Mountain Ingredients Cuisine and Seafood Ingredients)
Within three days, they had visited both of Liyue's top-tier restaurants. Even within Liyue itself, few could boast such an experience.
"Ah, I finally managed to invite you," Tartaglia sighed theatrically. "You're far harder to invite than Mr. Zhongli. Mr. Zhongli just needs a word. If he's free, he comes."
With Zhongli's help, Tartaglia had obtained a great deal of valuable intelligence. Every mora spent had been worth it.
As for Futsu Mitama—this was a long-term investment.
After encountering La Signora and Scaramouche, Futsu Mitama naturally understood that most Fatui Harbingers were—problematic.
His willingness to eat with Tartaglia was already within expectations.
"No need for formalities," Futsu Mitama replied. "You're paying anyway."
He proceeded to order over a dozen of the most expensive dishes without hesitation, along with a pot of premium wine. Kuki Shinobu did not hold back either.
Goodwill, genuine or otherwise, was easy enough to distinguish.
Tartaglia was clearly trying to use them—but what exactly made them worth using, she still could not fully grasp.
"Hahahaha~" Tartaglia laughed, unfazed. "It's fine. The Fatui's funds come from Regrator and Il Dottore useful invention anyway."
"He makes the money. I spend it. Perfectly reasonable, don't you think?"
"And besides—you haven't spent as much as Mr. Zhongli."
Kuki Shinobu and Futsu Mitama exchanged a glance, both feeling a sense of helplessness. At the same time, Kuki Shinobu was secretly shocked. Just how much mora had Zhongli spent under the Fatui's account?
This meal alone was already exorbitant—yet Tartaglia spoke as though it were nothing.
"All right," Tartaglia said, leaning back slightly. "Since you're willing to give me face, I won't keep you guessing. That means you already see me as different from La Signora and Scaramouche."
"I hate being compared to them too. La Signora aside—Scaramouche—hmph."
He snorted twice, clearly holding little regard for him.
"As a warrior, I can tell. La Signora may be unpleasant, but she's loyal. Scaramouche isn't. If given the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to betray the Fatui."
"Enough," Futsu Mitama interrupted calmly, setting down his teacup. "Tell me who's coming next, and I'll give you the intelligence you want."
"A fair exchange. And you're right about one thing—you are more trustworthy than the others."
Tartaglia's eyes lit up. He hadn't expected this. After a brief internal struggle, he made his decision.
"Il Dottore is coming."
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Kuki Shinobu and Futsu Mitama both stiffened.
Seeing their reactions, Tartaglia sighed. "Judging by that, you know exactly who he is."
"To be honest," he continued, rubbing his temple, "I don't like his arrival either. If he were just a little more rational, he might even be tolerable. But most of the time, he's obsessed with gains and losses. If he believes something is feasible, he won't hesitate to sacrifice others."
Tartaglia spoke with genuine frustration. He had been deceived by Il Dottore before.
The Second Harbinger—ancient, fragmented into countless 'selves,' each intelligent, each dangerous.
Every single one was difficult to deal with.
Kuki Shinobu and Futsu Mitama fell silent. On their way here, they had already speculated about Aila's origins. Futsu Mitama had even voiced it directly—
If someone could strip fate and memory from a person and implant them into another, creating an entirely new existence—
Aside from Il Dottore, who else could do such a thing?
Other gods might be capable—but any god entering Liyue would be noticed by Zhongli.
That left only Il Dottore. Or the Abyss Order.
And in Inazuma, Futsu Mitama had yet to see the Abyss Order act directly.
Kuki Shinobu, however, had encountered Abyss Mages more than once.
"So he's still coming," she muttered.
Even after leaving Inazuma, they could not escape him.
A persistent ghost indeed. And at that moment, neither of them could help but wonder—
Was Il Dottore chasing them… because he already knew something?
"Hm." Futsu Mitama gave a slight nod, his voice even as he spoke. "It's fine. If he doesn't come looking for us, all the better. But if he does—"
A cold gleam flashed through his eyes.
He was not a benevolent person—never had been. Or rather, from the moment Aila became a possible target, that part of him had long since ceased to exist.
Back then, when he was the one being targeted, Futsu Mitama felt nothing. Yet Aila had cared deeply.
Now, when Aila was the one being targeted, she herself seemed indifferent—but Futsu Mitama could not ignore it.
In this regard, they truly were alike. Master and servant, reflecting one another perfectly.
"Hahahaha—how terrifying." Tartaglia sensed the killing intent radiating from him and broke into laughter. "Under normal circumstances, I won't interfere."
"After all, my relationship with Il Dottore isn't exactly friendly." He shrugged casually. "As long as you don't kill him right in front of me, I won't mind."
Such were the warm and harmonious internal relations of the Fatui Harbingers.
Tartaglia's words left Kuki Shinobu momentarily speechless.
In a way, it was fortunate that the Harbingers were not united. If Scaramouche and La Signora were ever to act together—
Even Futsu Mitama might not last long—let alone herself and Aila. Even if the two of them joined forces, there was no guarantee they could defeat both La Signora and Scaramouche.
"Then…" Tartaglia turned his gaze back to Futsu Mitama and asked tentatively, "Though this may be a little awkward—could you share some information about the Primo Geovishap?"
His interest in the Primo Geovishap was unmistakable. Or rather—
The Primo Geovishap was closely tied to the plan he was about to set in motion.
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