"Nnh… true enough."
Nahida agreed with a tiny nod. Idris clearly had been misunderstood by the Traveler, but since he never cared about such things, it hardly mattered.
"Anyway, the commission was picked up by the Traveler just like you planned," she added, amused. "That'll make the desert business much easier. Once she's moving, I can focus elsewhere."
Idris dropped into his chair in the Grand Sage's office—right as the system chimed in his head again.
[The protagonist of Teyvat, the Traveler, now holds a… peculiar impression of you. You have altered her original view of the Grand Sage.]
[Branch plot detected. Reward granted.]
[Congratulations. You've acquired a new research discipline: Plant Grafting.]
[Technique auto-adapted for Teyvat flora…]
"A reward again?" Idris blinked, then grinned. "Plant grafting, huh… not bad at all."
Teyvat's plants each had their quirks; if he could splice traits together and breed hardier strains, that fit Sumeru's needs to a tee—and would be good for the whole world. No one here had proposed grafting yet. If he rolled it out first, it would polish the image of the Nation of Wisdom nicely.
He leaned forward to absorb the download—and called over his shoulder, "Lesser Lord Kusanali, go do whatever you like for a bit. I'm going to work."
"Okay, I won't bother you."
With a flutter of white, Nahida dove into his bedding like a content little spirit—warming the bed, as always.
Idris closed his eyes and let the knowledge slot into place. This grafting wasn't ordinary, either. Because Sumeru had a peculiar lifeform—the Fungi—spore-born creatures that were half-monster, half-plant, the method could even be applied to them. With a few trials… who knew what he could cultivate?
Smiling at the possibilities, he poured the new research into the Akasha Terminal, queuing it for the Akademiya's seventh school—his Pillcraft Division. You couldn't have students doing nothing but refining pills all day; they needed pastimes—tending plots, breeding herbs. Grafted stock went straight back into pillmaking: a perfect little loop.
(First admitted student? Dinazedeh—an unexpected choice, but it delighted Nahida. Better that believers serve the nation than merely venerate a god, she thought.)
Paperwork waited. Idris flipped through a stack of memorials until a few caught his eye.
From Keqing of the Liyue Qixing:
Grand Sage Idris, ever since our delegation visited Sumeru we've held your nation in high regard. We'd like to pay another visit soon—would you have time to receive us?
So it was Keqing's turn. Looked like Ningguang and Ganyu had bragged one time too many; she finally cracked. No problem—Rejuvenation Pills were low-tier by his standards; he could refine a heap in an afternoon. And this visit felt more like sightseeing than statecraft.
The serious letter came from Fontaine.
From Neuvillette, Chief Justice of Fontaine:
Grand Sage Idris, though you're young, your name precedes you. Lady Furina, our Hydro Archon, wishes to make an official visit to Sumeru. We also hope to deepen relations between our nations. Please extend every courtesy—her temperament can be… unusual. We propose arrival in one week if convenient.
Now that was diplomacy. Neuvillette clearly wouldn't leave Fontaine himself—if he did, half the nation might collapse. So they were sending Furina.
"Looks like those two hundred songs I loaded onto the music players did their job," Idris mused. One of them must've pierced straight through Furina's heart and pushed her out the door.
Perfect. Sumeru's problems were nearly wrapped. If Furina came now, he could nudge Fontaine's plotline later—and squeeze more prizes out of the system.
He penned a gracious reply: Sumeru welcomes Fontaine anytime.
The days that followed were pleasantly routine. By day he processed memorials and refined pills; by night he pushed his alchemy toward a single, formidable elixir—one that would settle Sumeru's last, deepest knot with Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. Between tasks, he drafted primers on grafting and pitched the idea to Nahida.
Nahida listened bright-eyed, then looked at him with complicated warmth.
"I'm starting to understand why Morax trusts humans' miracles," she said. "This is such a simple, daring leap—something only humans would imagine. Leave the growth to me; I can accelerate ordinary plants, so your trial cycles will shrink to days."
Idris chuckled. "Our little princess finally wants to do real work, hm? I'll have seeds sent over for you to play with. If you can bring a few grafts to maturity within a week, we'll trot them out whenever foreign envoys visit."
"Deal." Nahida smiled. And so their week took shape: Nahida cultivating; Idris refining and ruling; Nahida warming the bed at dusk with saintly devotion.
As for Dottore—docile as a lamb. Apparently the last showdown cowed him; the man was unusually quiet.
A week passed. Sumeru ticked forward—and beyond the rainforest, Aaru Village stirred.
After days of running and far too many distractions (sparkly things were still sparkly), Lumine and Paimon finally set foot at the desert's edge.
"Whew—at last," Paimon groaned. "No wonder the Grand Sage didn't come himself. This is far."
Lumine rubbed her cheek, a little embarrassed. They could have moved faster… but since this wasn't about storming the Sanctuary anymore—and since she'd privately ruled Idris out as a lecher—the rush had faded. Treasure chests along the way had not.
A low, warm voice answered them from behind. "You're not wrong. The desert's a mean place. Outside the villages, the wrong crest or the wrong coat can get you jumped."
They turned. A tawny-skinned woman with a lion's poise strode up, smile easy but eyes sharp.
"I'm Dehya," she said. "Mercenary. I'm here on the Grand Sage's behalf to guide you. The terrain's nasty, and the ecosystem nastier; first-timers should have a local."
"You were… sent by Idris?" Lumine asked, giving the woman a quick once-over.
That silhouette. That dangerous, easy grace. Great, Lumine thought dryly. Another woman with a story.
Paimon's curiosity got the better of her. "So, uh… what's your relationship with the Grand Sage?"
Dehya scratched her cheek, a touch sheepish. "Pretty good, I'd say? He helped a… lady I know—no, a friend—with a terminal illness. I owe him. He's a decent man."
Lumine and Paimon traded a look.
In their minds, Idris was already a notorious playboy. Hearing that only made Lumine sigh inwardly.
"Don't tell me," she thought, glancing at the blazing horizon, "this whole country is full of women who've got a soft spot for the Grand Sage."
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