"A—ha, ha, HA—!"
Kaeya's laughter suddenly shot up several octaves, loud and exaggerated like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on—so overdone it practically screamed guilty.
His good eye darted around wildly.
"Yichen, my friend, listen to yourself!"
"In broad daylight, under the clear blue sky—how could you slander someone's good name out of thin air? We of the Knights of Favonius have always—"
"Man!"
Yichen moved like lightning.
A sharp, vicious elbow—honed by three years of honest labor—slammed perfectly into Kaeya's unguarded ribs!
"Gah—!!"
Caught completely off guard, Kaeya let out a soul-piercing howl and folded over instantly like a cooked shrimp. His dark face scrunched up in pure agony, every line screaming I regret everything.
"Hss—! I was wrong, I was wrong! Bro! Don't hit! Let's talk this out!"
Kaeya sucked in cold air, his voice completely off-key, all dignity of a cavalry captain long gone.
"P-profit split! I'll give you a cut! Seventy-thirty—no! Sixty-forty! You take six! That's generous, right?!"
One second ago, Yichen looked like a drawn blade.
The next, he was spring sunshine incarnate.
The murderous aura vanished without a trace, replaced by a warm, harmless smile.
"Ahhh, Kaeya, my good friend—see? If you'd just said that earlier, we could've avoided all this."
Yichen patted Kaeya's shoulder warmly, perfectly calibrated for brotherly affection.
"I knew it. In all of Mondstadt, Captain Kaeya is the most righteous, fair, and respectable man of principle. Truly a pillar of the Knights of Favonius! This profit split—very sincere. I like it."
Kaeya clutched his aching ribs, staring at Yichen's angelic face, and silently awarded him yet another title:
'Mondstadt's No.1 Master of Instant Face-Changing.'
Straightening up with a grimace, he asked irritably,
"So seriously—do you have any confidence at all? I remember you swearing you'd stop after a hundred times, but now…"
Yichen shrugged casually, as if that elbow strike had nothing to do with him.
"Confidence? Of course—none whatsoever."
Kaeya's mouth twitched.
He cleared his throat, adopting a world-weary tone, ignoring the lingering pain as he patted Yichen's shoulder again.
"Ahem… listen, brother. Don't be discouraged. There's no shortage of flowers at the edge of the world. Eula's an ice crystal flower—hard to pick—but I know plenty of good girls! Gentle ones, lively ones, rich ones—just say the word and I guarantee—"
Yichen raised a hand decisively.
"Thanks, Yuan Rang. Appreciate the thought. But—"
"I'm not interested in dating right now. No time either."
He glanced at the sun.
"Anything else? If not, I need to hit the flower shop."
Kaeya choked, took one look at Yichen's single-minded focus on money (and lottery draws), and knew further persuasion was pointless.
He shrugged.
"Alright, alright. Forced melons aren't sweet.
Anyway… this afternoon—no matter the outcome—"
"If you feel bad, or want to grab a drink… Angel's Share. Old spot. My treat. As much as you want."
Without waiting for a reply—and clearly afraid the Elbow King might remember some additional "terms"—Kaeya immediately turned and vanished into the afternoon crowd, clutching his ribs, his retreat radiating strategic withdrawal.
Only after Yichen's line of sight was blocked did Kaeya stop, leaning against a shuttered shop and rubbing the injury.
"Hiss… that brat hits hard…"
"But still… hehehe…"
"This afternoon's 'devotion drama' betting pool…"
"…is hotter than ever!"
"Free drinks—secured!"
The sun melted toward the horizon, painting Mondstadt's ancient stone walls in warm amber. The evening breeze carried the moisture of Cider Lake and the whispers of dandelions.
Yichen had changed out of his waiter uniform.
His well-fitted black outfit made him look taller, sharper—less ordinary, more deliberate.
This time, he wasn't holding Cecilias.
Instead, he carried a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, their petals glowing like captured sunlight.
From afar, that familiar blue figure appeared on schedule.
Eula walked toward him beneath the sunset.
Behind the windwheel asters on the left—carefully controlled breathing, barely suppressed excitement…
Within the shadow of an ancient oak on the right—the faint scrape of armor…
And up on the watchtower's blind corner—an eye-patched silhouette nearly swallowed by dusk, accompanied by at least four or five barely breathing figures…
Eula's fingers curled—just slightly.
A surge of embarrassment, anger, and humiliation slammed into her all at once.
These idiots!
Especially Kaeya!
Her steps remained perfectly composed, her aristocratic poise unshaken, as she walked straight up to Yichen.
The sunset outlined her flawless profile—and illuminated the overly radiant daffodils in his arms.
Just as Yichen lifted his head, wearing the perfectly practiced, textbook "deeply affectionate smile", ready to begin his final work report—
A gloved hand struck like lightning.
Cold fingertips clamped down viciously on the softest, most vulnerable spot at his waist.
Hard.
"—Ngh!"
Yichen froze, his smile instantly petrified. He nearly dropped the bouquet.
A wave of sharp pain shot through him. His eyes widened in shock and confusion as he stared at Eula, who still wore her signature ice-cold expression.
She tilted her head slightly, icy blue eyes glancing sideways at him. Sunset shadows fell beneath her lashes, hiding the storm in her gaze.
"So you dared…"
"…to invite so many people to watch me make a fool of myself…"
"Yichen—this grudge, I'll remember it!"
Her fingers twisted mercilessly—half a turn more—before releasing him.
That would absolutely leave a mark.
Yichen clutched his waist, teeth clenched, utterly stunned.
He scanned the surroundings.
Stone walls.
A few passersby.
Nothing else.
Since when did rejection come with physical damage?
He opened his mouth—only to find all his carefully prepared confession lines completely strangled by pain and confusion.
Meanwhile, at the "hidden observation points" Eula had sensed—
Behind the flowers, a red-clad outrider clamped a hand over a spark knight's mouth.
In the oak tree, a librarian nearly dropped her notes, caught just in time by a serious-looking acting grand master.
On the watchtower, Kaeya covered his mouth, shoulders shaking as he silently mouthed:
"Open the pool. Open it. It's locked in!"
The sun sank lower, stretching the two figures' shadows across the gate.
Yichen stood there rubbing his aching waist, confused and aggrieved.
The slightly crushed daffodils swayed gently in the evening breeze, their golden petals glowing—
Illuminating a hundredth confession quietly blessed by countless unseen eyes.