Gu Sanqiu glanced at Xingqiu. "I can't help but feel like you're thinking about something weird."
Hmm, let me think... Inazuma shouldn't have something like mixed-gender hot springs... right?
"Excuse me, you three."
A neatly dressed attendant—perhaps an official servant or just a volunteer racking up hours at some prestigious academy—stepped forward. The young man, whose features could be described as delicate, bowed politely to the group.
"The main hall has requested your presence."
"Alright, time to get to business."
Gu Sanqiu tossed a napkin at Itto. "Wipe your mouth. And listen—don't do anything weird, don't yell, and absolutely do not cause a scene. Otherwise, Yae Miko from your shrine will definitely deal with you when we get back."
Causing a commotion in front of the dignitaries of a foreign nation would have an impact comparable to committing an indiscretion before the emperor in a feudal dynasty—it would surely put them at a diplomatic disadvantage.
Wait a second... isn't Inazuma still in its isolationist phase, with barely any diplomacy to speak of?
Never mind, then.
In the main hall, the trio—Gu Sanqiu, Xingqiu, and Itto—stood at the very back of the line.
This was deliberate; being at the rear helped them avoid drawing attention. More importantly, it let them relax their posture a bit.
Even so, attending was non-negotiable. One had to play the part when required.
In moments like these, Gu Sanqiu couldn't help but think how wise his ancestors had been to position their family as refined scholars and downplay the Gu Clan's prominence in Liyue.
Over on the other side, Master Keqing was also attending the gathering. Several times, she had glanced at Xingqiu with a look of barely restrained fury, her eyes practically shooting sparks.
It was obvious she resented how her companion could leisurely eat and loaf around while she had to work so diligently.
Under normal circumstances, Keqing would be thrilled at an opportunity to enhance Liyue's influence across the continent. Even if she were so exhausted that her fingers couldn't move, she'd approach the task with unwavering enthusiasm.
But as the saying goes, comparisons highlight differences.
The sight of her companions at the back—each a uniquely handsome man with an unmistakable air of indolence—only exacerbated her irritation. Their laid-back demeanor clashed starkly with the seriousness of the event, further grating on her nerves.
The fact that she hadn't already drawn her sword to demonstrate what "lightning-fast strikes" meant showed remarkable restraint.
Still, Gu Sanqiu mused, with my current strength, Keqing probably wouldn't be able to break through my Rock Shield.
"Pristine Amethyst... Technically, isn't it the purest elemental crystal available? If someone with the same elemental affinity, like Keqing, used it, wouldn't it be akin to a supercharged elixir?"
Gu Sanqiu pondered this idea. Most elemental crystals or materials derived from powerful monsters carried traces of their source's aura or will.
To put it simply, obtaining such resources was like downloading study materials online versus borrowing them from a friend. The former was generic and neutral, while the latter carried a personal touch.
However, items like Pristine Amethyst were highly pure, with only the faintest traces of divine intent—making them ideal elemental energy conduits.
Currently, these crystals couldn't be synthesized artificially. Attempts at artificial creation often resulted in low energy conversion rates and significant impurities.
The primary ways to obtain them were through exploration in elemental hotspots, fighting powerful monsters for scraps, or a semi-artificial method involving slimes.
Slimes, frankly, had it rough.
When a slime exploded, the brief moment of elemental energy release allowed adventurers to collect it using prepared containers like magical crystals, resulting in lower-grade elemental crystals.
Of course, doing this meant sacrificing byproducts like slime condensate; after all, you couldn't have both pure energy and materials.
Incidentally, items like the Windcatcher were made using similar techniques.
Still, Gu Sanqiu thought, I wonder if alchemists like Albedo have discovered other methods. Maybe I should bring up the idea of cultivating wind slimes at the Dragonspine tree...
If wind slimes could be farmed efficiently and used to produce more Windcatchers, their applications in adventuring and military contexts would make it a major industry for Mondstadt.
And with someone like Albedo—essentially a top-tier alchemist—leading the charge, there'd be no fear of technical leaks.
Should competitors try to copy them, Mondstadt could simply engage in a price war, crush them with superior technology, or file a lawsuit for plagiarism.
With the Knights on my side, how could we lose?
Gu Sanqiu nodded to himself, pleased with the idea. Perhaps he'd bring it up during his next trip to Mondstadt.
Of course, it wasn't as if other materials couldn't be exploited similarly. The thought of harvesting elemental energy from Whopperflowers, however, was unappealing. Their energy was too volatile, essentially turning any refined product into a potential bomb.
Slimes, on the other hand, were versatile, abundant, and clearly undervalued.
Poor things.
One day, Yae Miko had handed him a Pristine Amethyst. Aside from its dense lightning element making it suitable for storage, Gu Sanqiu still didn't fully understand what she intended by gifting it.
Was it simply because, as someone connected to the divine, she had an endless supply?
...Interesting.
If he considered his connections, there were certainly powerful elders in his network—perhaps he could request someone like Xiao to condense some high-grade elemental crystals for him.
On second thought, forget it. Asking too much of Xiao or others could strain their goodwill. It would be better to reserve such favors for truly necessary occasions.
If his grandfather were to ask, however, that would be a different story. Perhaps he could even persuade his grandfather to craft a stockpile of Cor Lapis crystals instead...
"Mr. Genzawa—no, I should address you as Gu Xiangjun."
Sakurae Shichiryu approached, producing a scroll from the wide sleeve of her robe and handing it over.
"This is something the Guuji instructed me to deliver to you personally. Please accept it, Xiangjun."
...Again?
Gu Sanqiu's expression froze. "May I ask what exactly this is?"
A flicker of confusion crossed Sakurae Shichiryu's face, clearly unsure why Gu Sanqiu seemed so perturbed.
What she didn't know was that the last time Gu Sanqiu had accepted something like this, it contained a fragment of a divine being. The thought that the Grand Narukami Shrine might be pulling the same stunt again was enough to make his hands tremble.
"This is a letter—or rather, the primary object is the letter itself. It's something the Guuji retrieved from the Grand Narukami Shrine's secret archives."
"This letter has been sealed for nearly five hundred years."
---
...
Huh. You really stuck it out all the way to the end.
Didn't think you had the patience. Guess I was wrong.
WiseTL's the one who actually made all this come together. I'm just here putting a bow on it... or, well, shoving it in a backpack and calling it a day. Same thing.
If you had fun, you know what to do:
👉 [patreon.com/WiseTL]
And if you're the social type, there's a Discord too. Pretty decent spot to hang out—no battles required.
👉 [discord.gg/wisetl]
Alright. That's enough standing around. Go on—before you make it weird.
—Leaf