The following morning, Henry smelled something wonderful — success — though it was the kind of success that came with a heavy weight in his pouch and an even heavier presence in the streets outside, where Swift Bikes had already turned into something between a marketplace and a small-scale public disturbance.
By noon, the front of the shop looked less like a business and more like a festival that had completely lost its sense of order, with people crowding the entrance, voices overlapping in constant negotiation, and customers repeatedly touching bicycles as though confirmation of existence required physical contact.
"Careful! Careful with the brakes!" Atsuko shouted from outside, her voice cutting through the noise as she tried to stop a rider who had clearly misunderstood the difference between confidence and control. "Those are not decorations!"
"I KNOW THAT NOW!"
The bicycle lurched violently as the rider tried to correct his balance, only for the front wheel to slip at exactly the wrong angle, sending the entire machine crashing into a stacked pile of cabbages beside a vendor's cart.
Vegetables burst outward in a chaotic scatter, rolling across the ground and into the street, while a nearby child immediately burst into laughter, pointing so hard he nearly lost balance himself, followed a second later by another child who joined in just as loudly, both of them reacting with the kind of uncontrollable amusement only public disaster could produce.
Several dogs nearby started barking at the sudden commotion, circling the scene as though a completely new form of entertainment had appeared in the middle of the street, while the rider himself remained still for a moment before slowly pushing himself upright, sitting back on the road with the expression of someone quietly reevaluating every decision that had led him here.
Henry watched the scene for a few seconds, then turned back toward the shop with a small exhale.
"…That's the third cabbage incident this week."
[Fourth.]
The first one barely counts.
Inside the shop, the situation was no calmer, because customers filled every available space while others argued over pricing tiers, and whether adding baskets would somehow reduce the "dignity" of the product itself, as if dignity were a measurable mechanical component.
Meanwhile, behind the counter, Xingqiu managed multiple customers' questions at once with the calm precision of someone who treated financial order as a literary art form, his reed pen moving steadily across the ledger without once breaking rhythm.
"Yes, installment plans are available," he said smoothly, still not looking up as he spoke, as though the answer had already been decided long before the question was even asked.
"Yes," he continued in the same polite tone, "if your cousin attempts to flee to Mondstadt without clearing instalments, it still constitutes theft under Liyue Laws, and yes, the Millelith will be sent after you."
Another customer began speaking, but Xingqiu gently continued before they could spiral into explanation.
"No, delayed payment does not result in ownership transfer," he added, finally turning a page in the ledger with precise control, "and interest will still apply according to the agreed terms."
Then, after a short pause where he finally allowed the flow of conversation to settle, he concluded evenly, "And yes, attempting to resell the bicycle before completing payment remains a breach of contract, regardless of intent, circumstance, or emotional justification."
Henry stood nearby watching him for a moment, and the longer he observed, the more unsettling it became how naturally Xingqiu handled everything, as though he inherited merchant skills directly from the heavens. Not the heavens here, but Henry did not want to say further lest the Heavenly Principles awaken due to his insult.
Near the entrance, another customer raised a hesitant hand.
"M-Mister Henry…"
Henry turned his attention immediately. "Yes?"
The man gestured toward the demonstration outside, where Atsuko was currently trying to prevent two more riders from turning a controlled test run into a public performance of chaos.
"Is it true these can reach Qingce Village in less than half the usual travel time?"
That question shifted something in the air immediately.
Henry straightened slightly, because this was no longer curiosity in the casual sense — this was the beginning of practical evaluation.
"It depends on terrain and rider experience," he answered after a brief pause, speaking more carefully now as nearby listeners leaned in. "But compared to walking or carts, yes. It significantly reduces travel time, especially for individual transport or light carry on cargo."
A ripple moved through the crowd at that, subtle but immediate, because the way people were listening had changed — merchants stopped talking mid-sentence, couriers looked toward each other without speaking, and even the fishermen standing near the entrance had gone quiet, as if mentally adjusting calculations they had not realized they were already making.
Henry could feel it happening in real time, the shift from novelty to utility, from curiosity to consideration.
One of the fishermen finally spoke up, breaking the brief silence.
"So if we used these for fish deliveries…"
Henry pointed at him immediately. "Exactly."
The fisherman froze for a moment, clearly not expecting such an immediate confirmation, while his companion slowly turned his head toward him as though reassessing the entire idea of their profession, and around them several merchants began exchanging looks that carried the unmistakable weight of opportunity being quietly re-evaluated.
Henry could practically see the future expanding in front of him.
Modern Roads.
Faster Delivery services.
Motorcycles
His eyes started shining.
[User is economically aroused again.]
I am imagining industrial evolution.
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