Jiang Chen wandered the city, got a feel for Mondstadt, then went back to the inn to rest.
Lumine didn't return until late — nobody knew where she'd been.
When she finally showed up, Jiang Chen gave her a look full of question marks.
"Why are you back so late?
Did you eat already?"
Lumine and Paimon both shook their heads.
"Nope!" Paimon grinned. "We went to make money!"
They'd run into people while shopping who needed help carrying things, delivering messages, running errands — small jobs that paid surprisingly well.
Paimon bragged about the cash they'd earned, practically vibrating with pride.
Jiang Chen stared at Lumine, baffled.
"What kind of work-angel body is that? You can pick up labor just from window-shopping?"
He was speechless. Lumine was basically a natural-born hustler.
Lumine bristled at the look.
"Are you looking down on workers?" she snapped. "I'm offended!"
She's not someone you just dismiss — don't give that face.
"Not looking down. Just… amazed," Jiang Chen said. "You can go out and find jobs. That's impressive."
Lumine shrugged and admitted, a little sheepish, that the pay in Mondstadt was generous. People tipped well for small favors — enough that she joked she could pull in a fortune if she settled there. The idea of easy money was addictive.
Jiang Chen was quiet for a beat, then shrugged: fair enough. If money fell from the sky, who wouldn't pick it up?
They left for dinner at the Good Hunter. The three of them — Jiang Chen, Lumine, Paimon — sat and chatted. Midway through the meal, an unexpected guest showed up.
Venti.
The bard stormed to the table, looking ruffled and very displeased.
"You lot have put me through hell!" he complained. "Didn't you say not to expose my identity?"
Venti had been caught off guard when the Knights came for him earlier. He'd assumed his cover was blown; instead, they'd come asking if he had ties to Barbatos, because Jiang Chen had told them Venti might be the link to the Anemo Archon. Now he was furious — what had Jiang Chen done to him? He was being labeled as connected to the Archon and to Dvalin. It was chaos.
Jiang Chen waved a hand, amused.
"I was helping you," he said. "Gave you an identity—figure you could join the Knights and get a steady salary. Don't you think that's better than busking for scraps?"
Venti blinked, stunned. That was not how any of this was supposed to feel. "You expect me to thank you for this? You sold me out!"
Venti was indignant, but his indignation quickly collapsed into one simple demand.
"Fine. You owe me a meal. Buy me dinner. Buy me wine!" he declared.
Perfect. That was exactly the angle Jiang Chen needed.
"Alright," Jiang Chen said with a smile. "Make it a big spread. I happen to have a bottle of something special — Diona made it this afternoon."
Venti perked up like a child at mention of a treat. "Really? You're serious? Where?!" He already fished out a cup from nowhere.
Jiang Chen set the bottle on the table and opened it. The aroma rolled over them all. Venti's eyes lit up.
"What a drink!" he sighed, single-minded. There was only one thing on his mind: drink.
Jiang Chen grinned. "We're not drinking. This one's yours."
"Wait for the food, then have a bit."
Venti waved them off. "Food later. First, the wine!"
He poured himself a cup and sipped cautiously — it looked strong. The first taste sent him buzzing; his face went flush. He took another sip, and another, until he started singing, clinking glasses, and making a scene, utterly in his element even before the food arrived.
Jiang Chen kept pouring. He aimed for Venti to get pleasantly — then thoroughly — plastered. If he lost consciousness, the plan moved forward smoothly.
Paimon watched, bewildered. "Is this really okay?"
Meanwhile, Amber arrived and joined the table when Jiang Chen invited her. She sat and smiled, happy to share food with friends. The atmosphere was warm, and Venti kept getting merrier. Jiang Chen's gentle prodding with food and drink read like a soft but firm nudge toward the exact state he wanted Venti in: friendly, boisterous, and very drunk.
Later, when the Knights had "business" to follow up on Venti's whereabouts, and when other pieces began to fall into place, the scene at the dinner table would look like nothing more than a group of travelers drinking together. For now, the bottle kept emptying — exactly as Jiang Chen intended.
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