Lu Chen and Raiden Ei had just returned home when the sound of a violin greeted them at the door.
The music was soft and flowing, at times like the chirping of birds, at others like spring water rushing over rocks. It reminded Lu Chen of early mornings in Springvale, Mondstadt.
He had no idea what piece Venti was playing, but it was captivating. There was no denying it—Venti was a natural-born artist.
He followed the sound and opened the door to Venti's bedroom.
Then he frowned.
A wave of alcohol stung his nose. Venti was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sawing away at the violin in a very undignified posture. A half-empty bottle of vodka lay by his feet.
Seeing him in such a sorry state, Lu Chen promptly retracted all prior praise.
"Yo! You're back!"
Venti's cheeks were flushed a deep red. Who knew how much he'd drunk to get like this?
Sure enough, Lu Chen spotted a bunch of empty liquor bottles scattered on the bed—all hard liquor.
Without a word, he nudged Ei toward the kitchen to prep dinner.
With her tolerance, even the smell might make her tipsy—and with her drinking habits, she might actually tear the place down.
"You bought instruments?" Lu Chen sniffed the air and stepped into the room.
He took in the trumpet, the oboe, the guitar, and an enormous... timpani drum.
"You spent all the money I gave you on instruments?" His eyes went wide.
"Nope..." Venti put the violin down and pointed to the bed and the table.
"I also bought booze!"
Lu Chen held his forehead. "Would've been better if you just bought instruments..."
He had given both Raiden Ei and Venti a phone and transferred 100,000 yuan to each of their wallets—just in case.
Raiden Ei barely spent anything, staying home all day. Venti, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.
Looking at this pile of gear, Lu Chen couldn't shake the feeling something was off. No way all of this came from just 100,000 yuan...
He shot a suspicious look at Venti, still sitting on the floor.
"Ehehe~"
Venti's emerald eyes sparkled with amusement. He laughed, "Just kidding! Instruments are crazy expensive in this world. You're so stingy—100,000 yuan isn't nearly enough to buy all this."
Lu Chen's gaze landed on the massive timpani. "Then where did all this come from? Don't tell me you..."
His expression grew wary. "You didn't steal it, did you?"
"What are you thinking!" Venti huffed. "Is that really how you see me?"
Lu Chen said nothing—just nodded.
That finally set Venti off. Lu Chen felt a gust of wind shove him toward the door.
"You're messing up my practice. Get out!"
"Venti... Barbatos... Anemo Archon!"
Lu Chen tried switching up his titles twice, but Venti's face stayed just as sour—until he promised to take him out drinking. Only then did that tense little face finally relax into a grin...
"You better keep your word!" Venti blinked, all smiles again, like nothing had happened a moment ago.
"Yeah yeah." Lu Chen shrugged. "No big deal. What, you gonna drink me into bankruptcy?"
He said that, but deep down... he wasn't so sure. With Venti's drinking, bankruptcy actually seemed possible...
Back to the point—Venti finally explained how he got the instruments.
He'd gone out early that morning, wandering aimlessly. Said he wanted to check out the local music scene—and also bought a bunch of alcohol. Of course, Lu Chen figured it was more like: he went out to buy booze and just happened to look into the music scene.
Venti wasn't just sensitive to alcohol; he was just as attuned to music. He said he stumbled across a building filled with music—people were singing, dancing, and a few bands were playing.
He slipped in, joined the fun, sang with them, and played their instruments for a while. After getting his fill, he tried to leave—but a long-haired man hugged his leg and refused to let him go...
As Venti spoke, he proudly handed Lu Chen a business card. "He said I have exceptional musical talent—voice, theory, everything. Said he knew I was special the moment he heard me."
Lu Chen took the card. Venti kept going, "We hit it off right away. He begged me to join them. I told him I didn't even have any instruments, so he lent me these—for free!"
The more Lu Chen listened, the stranger it sounded. He studied the card closely.
"Starlight Entertainment Co."
"Music Producer / Director"
"Tony Wang"
So... it was an entertainment company? Tony Wang was a talent agent?
Lu Chen glanced at the still-smug Venti and couldn't help wondering—was this guy planning to debut?
A bizarre image popped into his mind:
"Hello, producers! I'm Venti, a trainee with two and a half days of experience.
I love singing, dancing, rapping... and drinking.
Music!"
It was too ridiculous. Lu Chen couldn't bear to imagine more.
"You didn't actually say yes... right?" He looked at Venti, wide-eyed again.
"Of course not. I'm not stupid." Venti waved a hand dismissively. "That guy really loves music—his eyes lit up—but in a place like that, all I saw was jealousy, desire, obsession. That's no place for real music, even if they have the finest instruments."
Lu Chen finally relaxed. He had to admit—even if Venti didn't fully grasp what entertainment companies, agents, or debuting meant, he was smart enough to know it wasn't the right fit.
The entertainment industry was a boiling vat of vanity and greed. But Venti... Venti was a breeze—free, unbound.
He was the kind of soul who belonged on a park bench, strumming a casual ode to the Anemo Archon on his lyre, the sea breeze rustling by, a bottle of wine at his side. Passersby would pause to listen. When the song ended, he'd take a carefree sip of cider.
That was Venti.
"Relax already!" With that, Venti began fiddling with his new instrument. He picked up the guitar and started tuning it.
There probably weren't guitars in Mondstadt, but even though it was his first time, his incredible musical talent let him pick it up quickly.
It was only a matter of time before he'd be playing full songs.
Lu Chen stopped worrying and headed to the kitchen, where Raiden Ei was quietly slicing meat.
Hmm... Of all her cooking skills, chopping was what she excelled at most.
The kitchen knife danced smoothly in her hands, slicing the meat into thin, even sheets with bold, fluid strokes. It was the most precise blade work in the world.
As expected of her.
If it were any other part of the cooking process, Lu Chen might've feared an explosion in the kitchen. But this—this was her domain.
From the bedroom came the intermittent sound of guitar strumming. From the kitchen, the steady rhythm of chopping.
Lu Chen cracked open a can of Coke and sat on the couch, a deep sense of homely comfort washing over him.
It was perfect. He wished it could stay like this forever.