After displaying her single-handed domination of the dessert table, the white-haired little demon (strike that), Paimon, collapsed onto Aether's lap, her stomach round and full.
Gu Sanqiu rubbed his forehead. "It feels like you've been marinated in the aroma of rice and flowers."
"Eh? Really?"
Paimon's face turned wary. "You're not planning to feed me all that delicious food just to season me and then eat me, are you?"
Gu Sanqiu immediately shot her a deadpan look. "That kind of method is only for preparing meat dishes—like wild boars or birds—using spices or premium feed. Do you think you qualify as fine cuisine?"
Aether chuckled, placing his hand gently on Paimon's small shoulder. "She is… emergency food."
"Emergency food?! What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Alright, enough. You can argue later. For now, let's head back and return this little one first," Gu Sanqiu said, referring to Klee.
With a swirl of Anemo energy, he ensured the group was safely carried back to Mondstadt.
He'd briefly considered tossing them about midair as payback for Paimon's overindulgence and humming noises, but for the sake of Mondstadt's natural balance—and his own peace of mind—he abandoned the idea.
Watching Paimon eat had reminded him of Guoba, the Stove God.
If Paimon were fed a steady diet of food rich in elemental energy and vitality, would she awaken to some hidden power? Perhaps even recover mysterious abilities she once had?
Guoba, after all, found happiness and contentment in the flames of the hearth.
From a narrative standpoint, this could explain Paimon's love of food and treasure—a subconscious desire hidden deep within her.
Then again, the likelier explanation was simply that she was just a greedy little emergency ration.
Honestly, it was like how Gu Sanqiu suspected Barbatos of scheming behind the scenes—a matter of perspective.
If you told La Signora that Barbatos had his own struggles and hidden plans…
Forget it.
The thought alone made Gu Sanqiu drop that example. That madwoman was already careening down a path of extremity.
If you told Vanessa, or perhaps even a post-Mondstadt arc Paimon from the original story, about Barbatos's secret schemes, they'd likely only be half-convinced.
Vanessa might shoo him away with the sound of chasing squirrels, and Paimon might yell "Eh? What the heck is this nonsense?" A classic scene—exactly what he envisioned.
As for Barbatos himself, Gu Sanqiu had no strong opinions. He had his own plans, surely. Even the Adepti likely knew little—or nothing—about them.
The one being who might have some idea was Lord Jueyun, the great Rex Lapis.
The supposed "seal" under the Dragonqueller seemed more like a facade—perhaps an adaptation made by Morax to cope with the erosion of time.
Why else would someone of his stature be "sealed" in such a place, unable to draw from the leylines? If you wanted a truly effective prison, something like Dvalin's chamber in the ruins of Stormterror's Lair would've been a better choice.
As for who this facade was meant to deceive… well, that wasn't clear.
And Inazuma? Gu Sanqiu scratched his head. Ei was simply a warrior—a soldier who had been relegated to the background during the Seven Archons' gathering in Liyue to drink.
Even now, she was likely grappling with the consequences of her declaration of eternity and the schemes Scaramouche had enacted against her.
Makoto—the true Raiden Shogun who had passed five hundred years ago—had left behind countless secrets. Yet, much of it remained unknown.
Whether her death was real or feigned, Gu Sanqiu wasn't certain. But if the Shogun's closest friend had witnessed her demise firsthand, it seemed unlikely to be a deception.
Unless her plan was of such critical importance that she was willing to allow Inazuma to suffer, the odds of a fake death were slim.
Returning to Liyue, the Stove God's transformation into Guoba likely also tied back to the calamity five hundred years ago.
Madam Ping had recounted that for centuries, disasters plagued the land. The Stove God had ceased frequent appearances, instead channeling all his power into the earth to quell the chaos.
Drained of strength, Guoba had diminished in wisdom and shrunk in form—teetering on the edge of the afterlife and the elemental cycle.
Yet, even after leaving his legacy, Guoba somehow returned to the forests. Whether through some miraculous preservation or a choice akin to reincarnation, the Stove God had not truly perished.
Awakened by Xiangling with a plate of spicy chili stir-fry, the length of Guoba's slumber remained unknown.
If it had been closer to the start of the five centuries, it suggested the calamities in Liyue weren't sudden but instead gradual, escalating over a millennium.
To protect his beloved humans, the Stove God may have resorted to extreme measures.
But if it was later in the timeline, the implications grew even grimmer. Despite his aid, Guoba had nearly succumbed to the elemental cycle, and Liyue barely survived.
The Abyssal catastrophe in the Chasm had seen Yaksha and Millelith alike suffer devastating losses.
For Rex Lapis to have been preoccupied elsewhere at the time, the enemy must have been formidable enough to force a god to dissipate his own power to suppress it.
And these weren't the days of the Archon War.
It had to be a foe emerging from the depths—powerful, numerous, and intent on recreating an era when gods clashed en masse.
To shield Liyue, the Stove God must have fought with everything he had, buying time for Rex Lapis to return and eliminate the threat.
Afterward, the Stove God left behind his legacy and retreated to the mountains until Xiangling's dish awakened him.
Gu Sanqiu sharpened his focus. Whether his theories were correct didn't matter. One thing was certain: the entities below were no saints.
The masked "wretched ones" were only part of the Abyss's story.
The higher beings had ambitions far greater, and the schemes twisting the minds and souls of countless people had roots far deeper.
As he brushed his hand over his inherited Vision, Gu Sanqiu resolved himself.
He felt pity for the Hilichurls' plight but knew where he stood. When the time came, he wouldn't hesitate.
---
...
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