The tavern was warm, with the luminous golden light lit by the flame of lamps mixed along with the coffee brown wood and dancing shadows. They laugh, howl, and roar, and with the help of their ruckus, the tavern heated like flames of the hearth. As for what had been driving the invisible yet irresistible fire of excitement, fueling it like burning coal, was a greenish bard.

His attire, a hat, cape, and shorts of teal green, then a white toping, a corset, and leggings, was greener than that of the swaying and drunken adventures. Certainly, the bard had been drunk and high, but little did it affect the fluent movements of his hands as they plucked, strung, and brushed the strings of his lyre.

He was wobbly, and righteously so. With a cup held loosely in his mouth, the bard whirled around with steps on floating air, creating an odd dance that only enhanced his performance.

Then, his drifting steps and songs were all halted with a sharp jerk.

Behind him, Keqing grasped the bard's shoulder. However, it was meant to be a pat but turned out to be more of a clench. The bard tensed, only a little, before quickly relaxing and brushing away her hand.

He whirled around and smiled shamelessly. "What may I be of service, young fair lady?"

Ignoring the displeased hushes around her, Keqing went straight to her point. "That song," she said.

"What of it?"

"It's completely fabricated."

The bard tilted his head and hummed. "How do you know?"

"…" Keqing obviously did not know. The ones who knew likely didn't live long enough to tell. "It's obviously fake," she answered.

"And how do you know it's 'obviously fake'? Could it be possible that you…?" The bard made a dramatic pause. "–Are Morax's biggest fan!? Like the kind that keeps his poster hanging over your bed and his face imprinted on your pillow?"

Keqing jerked back, stumbling into the table behind her. "What?"

The bard's eyes squinted as his hand casually stroked his lyre. "So it is true then," he said, thoughtfully. "The famous Yuheng secretly keeps posters and merchandise of a thousand-year-old dragon. How cute."

Keqing clutched the edge of the table, strangely enough, she didn't feel any pain, although the force she was using definitely calls for it. "I–"

What stopped her was a familiar voice, smooth and deliberate with elegant charm: "Well, well, it seems that I've just acquired some very handy information."

Keqing turned. "Ningguang?!"

The woman chuckled. "What useful information, to get our Yuheng to become so intimidated by mere mention."

Keqing was completely paralyzed by that point. Her voice trembled: "W-what do you mean, it-it's n-not–"

Another voice cut her off, softer compared to the previous: "Keqing, I never knew you had a side like this…"

"Ganyu?!"

"Would you mind showing me the collection?"

"N-no! they're only for introspection!"

"Hmmm, so you admit having one."

The world was closing in on her, pressing down on her chest as Ningguang, Ganyu, and the bard looked at her with their piercing gaze. Her vision swam as the world swallowed her whole.

With a gasp, Keqing awoke in cold sweat. Beside her, was a scroll she had yet to finish reading.

It was only a dream. She patted herself on the chest. Then, she stood up and stretched her sore arms and neck. Streaks of sunlight had already found their way through the gaps left uncovered by the curtains.

She checked the time and sighed. She really wasn't in the mood to see that bard again.


"Oh hi. You want some toast?" were Venti's first words to her.

He was sitting at the foot of the statue, right where she had seen him yesterday. The bard rested comfortably in the shadow, leaning against the grey stone that had been carved smooth. Beside him, was a simple basket.

Keqing held out her hand.

Venti blinked. "You want me to pay you for giving you something?"

"The mora."

Venti tilted his head and blinked again. "What mora?"

Keqing frowned. "The mora I gave you yesterday, of which you promised to give back."

"Oh–right, hehe…" He took out the pouch and handed it to her. "I thought you'd forget."

Keqing took the pouch and weighed it in her hand. Surprisingly, the bard didn't seem to have spent any of it at all. "How much did you spend?" she asked.

Venti took out a piece of toast from the basket and stuffed it in his mouth for a quick bite. After a swift swallow, he spoke: "Master Diluc was very stern on keeping his promise, so…" Venti sighed.

"You weren't able to get your hands on any wine," Keqing finished.

"I wasn't even able to enter the door."

"What about dinner?" Keqing asked. "Surely you need to at least eat something."

"There's this beautiful apple tree just outside of the city. It gives three big, freshly picked apples when the weather's right."

"And where did you sleep?"

"Oh, about that, there's this big tree–"

"Stop," Keqing told him. "I get it." The boy's lifestyle was hopeless.

Venti did not seem as bothered as Keqing was about his life. He held up the basket that had been beside him and asked: "you want some toast?"

Keqing opened her mouth; her stomach growled before she could answer.

The bard chuckled. "Your stomach says yes!" He reached into the basket. "One toast, coming right up!"

She closed her mouth and pursed her lips. This really shouldn't be more embarrassing than it is. Keqing shook her head. Away with the pointless thoughts. "Where did the basket come from?" she asked

"It's from Klee," answered Venti.

"Klee?"

"The little red girl from yesterday." He gave the toast in his hand a little wave. "It's an apology from her, which means that it's for both of us. Take your share at least, to show some gratitude."

Keqing sat down beside him and took the toast. It was almost tasteless, compared to the food that she was used to in Liyue; but it also had a feel of organic flavor, a unique taste that should only be present when the food is cooked properly, that is, when the food is cooked to taste a certain way.

She reached into the basket for another, before a sister ran out of the church and scolded them for eating on Barbatos's foot:

"Stand up right now. You should know well enough that this is a very disrespectful act. *sigh* Maybe I should put up a sign…"


Keqing walked her way down to fountain plaza. She could not stop thinking about it. A representative of Liyue caught redhandedly eating toast while sitting on one of the most patriotic symbols of Mondstadt. Only the archons know what'd happen if word gets out.

Venti skipped along; such troubles seemed nonexistent to him.

"We should head back," Keqing told him. "And apologize, properly. If I–"

"Eh? But why?" Venti looked at her and tilted his head ever so slightly. "I'm sure she doesn't mind all that much."

"But–"

"I'm sure Barbatos doesn't mind either," he added.

Keqing huffed. "And how do you know?"

The bard grinned. "The same as how I know all the songs there are on this land." His eyes glistened a faint spark.

"Like that song," Keqing remarked, skeptically. "How very believable."

"Uh-uh." Venti nodded. "Does sound very believable."

How very believable indeed.

Keqing sighed. The bard did have a point, however. She shouldn't be acting too impulsively and making a scene. It would be best if she simply let the matter slide. "We should return the basket," she said, changing the topic. "Do you know where we should go?"

"Knights of Favonius headquarters."

"Other than that." Keqing didn't want to bother Jean anymore.

"Then I suggest you try the alchemy stand right there."

Keqing looked in the direction that he was pointing. There, was a standard alchemy table amidst the few shelves of many books and jars.

"Strange, I thought he should be here…"

"Who–"

She was stopped by the rumbling sound of a squeaking huddle. From the turn leading to the side of the building behind the alchemy stand, sprung a truly horrendous view. Balls of white, a whole flock of them, bounced and ran out of the alleyway. They had a round body, with black dotted eyes and long, pointed ears, on the bottom of the things, were two tiny spheres–presumably their legs–rotating at rapid speed.

"Rolly, runny, jumpy dumpty," muttered Venti.

"Watch out! Incoming–" Behind the herd of morbid dolls, chased a woman with fluffy hair and round glasses falling to her nose. After her, followed a man, screaming.

Keqing pinched herself. "…It's not a dream."

"When you begin doubting, it's likely not," said Venti.

"You think you can gather them with your wind?"

"Yes, but uhh…are you sure? It's going to damage the city–"

Ka-boom–!

A doll exploded.

One by one, the little white spheres popped open, creating a cloud of grey ash that soon consumed the entire plaza.

Yet the last thing in Keqing's mind during this horrific moment was:

'This is happening way too often for my liking.'

Venti hummed, not minding the commotion:

"Explosions, explosion; A common theme for heroes of chosen."


I'm going to be very busy for the next month (and this month, too), so I don't know if I can keep updating this story before the summer. I am publishing this chapter to give notice of temporary hiatus (ironically, this story hasn't been updated for a month, I just don't know if it's appropriate to update a story without giving new chapters).