Postman Pat staggered up the Liyue Pavillion, drenched in sweat. Not only had he somehow made the trek to Liyue, but he somehow outran an army of hilichurls. Kirara's routes were insane. Hopefully, she got over her cold soon because he didn't want to make this trip every day.

Well, time to deliver the letters. Then, he saw with horror that the return addresses on every envelope had been smeared. The samachurls water spells got the ink all messed up.

He got out the mailing list but found it had several rips and tears. Rotten hilichurls. The names and addresses were all gone, leaving only profiles of the recipients. He'd just have to deliver based on those.

Approaching a Milileth, he explained his situation.

He read the first profile: Blue-haired, sleep-deprived young woman who is frequently stressed out. Has a soft, gentle voice. Very intelligent, but prone to sleepwalking. Regularly studies at—here, the paper had been torn.

The officer said, "That sounds like Miss Ganyu. You can find her in the pavilion."

He read the next profile: The richest woman in—She is a ruthless, highly skilled merchant with connections and her own palace.

"Lady Ningguang, of course," said the officer.

"High-class sword-wielding girl well-versed in all ancient customs. Has an alternate outfit for special occasions, works hard for her nation, and is crazy about Aether. Resisted a god and the Fatui alongside Aether."

The officer chuckled. "Definitely Keqing."

"How about this one?" said Postman Pat. "Tall man who is exceedingly knowledgeable and eloquent of speech. Dresses in a formal suit and regularly seen working with a spirited young lady."

"Hmm, well, that sounds like Zhongli."

"How about this one: an academically minded woman who specializes in mechanical semantics. Do you know her?"

"Um… well, I don't know what semantics are. But that could be Xianyun."

"Next is: a young swordsman who enjoys writing poetry. Traveled to Inazuma, from a prestigious family."

"I know that Xingqiu went to Inazuma for the Iorodori Festival. I suppose that could be him."

Postman Pat read the final profile, but the officer couldn't help him this time. Postman Pat thanked him anyway and went around delivering the letters.

That final letter remained undelivered.

Postman Pat took a break for lunch at Wamin, still unsure who to send the letter to.

Then, a white-haired woman brought him his meal. As she laid the food on the table, he read the description again and again. It was a seriously outlandish profile. And what the heck was a "peacemaker" anyways?

After he finished eating, the white-haired woman returned with the bill. Once he had paid, he asked her, "Excuse me, miss? But I'm looking for someone. Does this description sound like anyone you know?

"This person is a tall woman who acts as a peacemaker, usually settling disputes with her ludicrous strength."

The woman said, "Well, I don't know if it's relevant, but last week, a customer tried to dine and dash here, and I broke their arm."

Postman Pat shuffled uncomfortably. True, this woman—her nametag said Shenhe—was quite tall.

"Right, um… this person was abandoned by their parents as a child due to a rare condition."

"My father abandoned me," said Shenhe, "and I do have a rare condition."

"Okay, did you spend most of your childhood away from human society and reintegrate into society later in life?"

"Yes."

Postman Pat blinked, surprised by the coincidence. Had he accidentally stumbled upon the letter's recipient? He adjusted his glasses and read.

"Did you fight in a war to protect your nation?"

"Hmm-hmm."

"Did you play a major part in this war?"

She nodded.

"Alright then, last question. If this describes you, then I can only assume this letter was indeed meant for you," said Postman Pat. He cleared his throat and read, "This person was adopted and raised by a giant bird."

"Yes, that's me."

Postman Pat quirked his eyebrows. Huh, small world. With a chuckle, he reached into his satchel and handed her the letter. Shenhe took it and his Mora for lunch. Offering him a bow, she thanked him for eating at Wamin and wished him a good day.

Postman Pat set out with a grin. Maybe he had been overstressed for nothing. Every letter wound up with the right person sooner or later.