Returning to Mondstadt, the panic on Ji Ming's face vanished instantly — like someone blowing out a candle.
One moment: fleeing in pure terror.
The next moment: calm, expression steady, footsteps light.
Barbara blinked, rubbed her eyes. Did I hallucinate?
The run from Cider Lake back to the city took only a few breaths.
Before she even had time to get embarrassed about the princess carry, Ji Ming had already set her down — steady, careful, precise.
She was held.
That absolutely happened.
Barbara lowered her head, her shoes scuffing lightly against the stone. Then she peeked up again and poked Ji Ming's waist.
"Ji Ming, your expression is really strange."
Ji Ming gently moved her finger away.
"Barbara… please don't poke my waist. That's very ticklish."
So that was the weakness.
Her eyes curved like crescents.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Ji Ming grabbed her hand and sighed helplessly — she was way more mischievous than she looked.
"Barbara, listen. That bard is definitely not normal."
"Not normal? I think he just likes you a lot. Romance between boys is very normal in Mondstadt. Emotional companionship is free and sacred."
"Absolutely not normal!"
Ji Ming stared.
Barbara blushed a shade deeper — like she had just accidentally shipped them.
But Ji Ming wasn't concerned about that kind of "liking."
What bothered him was the familiarity he felt from the bard — that breeze-soft intimacy, like a flutter of wind finding its home.
He could feel the Anemo on Venti.
Too pure, too effortless.
And the "Vision" on Venti's hip was… a cheap fake. Ji Ming could tell at a glance — long years of fencing counterfeits had honed his eye to perfection.
This person was absolutely not some ordinary bard.
Barbara tugged his sleeve.
"It's fine, Ji Ming. If you don't want his affection, just refuse. Rejection is also freedom."
"…I am not getting confessed to!"
"Are you sure?"
A light, playful voice chimed behind them:
"Oh dear. So you're really going to reject my love?"
Ji Ming stiffened, stepped back, hand up in full defensive stance.
"Venti. Please tell me you're joking."
Venti smiled, hands behind his head, strolling closer.
"Who knows? Since we're fated to meet — why don't we introduce ourselves properly?"
"No need. Better if we never meet again."
Barbara: pokes his waist again.
Ji Ming exhaled.
Fine.
Face, dignity, manners — maintain them. For Barbara.
"Ji Ming. Liyue native. Eighteen."
"Oh! I also have a good friend from Liyue. See? Fate!"
"No fate. None. Zero."
Poke—
Ji Ming: "OW— okay fine, friends. We can be friends. If you stay over there."
Venti's grin widened.
"Then let's drink together!"
Mondstadt people.
Why the first solution to everything was always alcohol — Ji Ming would never understand.
Barbara clapped happily.
"Great idea! Ji Ming doesn't need to come back early. Even if he comes back, I won't open the door!"
"…The church is open twenty-four hours."
Barbara froze.
"…Well… still! Don't drink too much."
There she was.
Little Angel Barbara.
As reliable as always.
Once she disappeared from sight, Ji Ming turned back to Venti, expression serious.
"Venti. Explain your Vision."
Venti lifted the fake gem and spun it lazily.
"Like it? If you want it, I can give it to you~"
"I'm not talking about this glass bead. I mean your real Vision."
Venti's eyes gleamed — and he looked straight at the Anemo Vision at Ji Ming's waist.
Ji Ming instinctively covered it — cold tingled under his palm.
He removed it, examining it carefully.
Every Vision carried personal nuance — shape, runes, resonance.
His was oblong, its wind-sigil edged with sharp angles — elegant yet firm — unmistakably Liyue craftsmanship in temperament.
The one Venti held was smooth, rounded — but the details?
Identical.
Down to the last carved curve.
It was like both were made from the exact same original pattern.
"…So what? Mine was originally yours?"
Venti clasped his hands dramatically and lifted his chin.
"That's right~ In fact— I am Barbatos, the Anemo Archon. You are my most favored child. I bestowed the Vision upon you myself. Are you touched?"
Ji Ming's expression did not change.
"I could say I'm the Geo Archon, Rex Lapis. Do you believe it?"
Venti clapped—
"Of course! An eighteen-year-old Rex Lapis — how promising! Truly, Liyue Harbor's future heir."
His tone was joking.
But…
There was a strange kind of affection behind it.
A familiar warmth.
Something like:
"The old man has his eye on you, kid."
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