Liyue Harbor. At the foot of Mount Aocang.
Hu Tao, Keqing, and Qiqi had come together under the moonlight, as promised, to visit the grave mentioned in the storyteller's tale—the grave of the little boy.
After searching for some time, they finally found it at the base of the mountain. It was a lonely, crude, weathered grave.
Looking at the desolate, simple, dilapidated tombstone, the three frowned.
Keqing said seriously, "They say the adepti are meticulous in all things. Why would they be so careless when burying the dead?"
It was clear that Keqing not only had criticisms of Rex Lapis but also of Liyue's ancient adepti.
Hu Tao nodded earnestly. "Exactly. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was right here. Why didn't they give us this business? We're professionals."
She, too, had complaints about Cloud Retainer.
Then she added, "But it's not too late to make amends. We can hold a proper funeral."
Qiqi whispered, "Hu Tao is bad."
Hu Tao raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I'll bury you."
Qiqi quickly hid behind Keqing. "Hu Tao is bad. Not only does she want to bury me, she wants to dig up this brother."
She was genuinely afraid of Hu Tao. If Hu Tao caught her, she would tie her up and bury her in the ground. And crawling back out was very, very hard.
Keqing frowned. "Stop fooling around. Instead of digging him up for a new funeral, why don't we just fix up this grave?"
So, with compassionate hearts, they began repairing the old, dilapidated grave.
When it came to repairing graves, Hu Tao, as the seventy-seventh director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, was highly skilled and professional.
Before long, the crumbling, weed-covered stone grave had been transformed. It was no longer a simple pile of stones but a more elaborate and grander structure, decorated according to Liyue's customs.
After finishing, Hu Tao looked at the new grave with satisfaction. When it came to proper burials, relying on Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was truly the best choice.
She even took the opportunity to advertise. "Keqing, Qiqi—if you ever need funeral services, please contact me. As friends, I'll give you a thirty percent discount."
After hearing Qiqi's story, Hu Tao no longer wanted to forcibly bury her. She now considered Qiqi a friend.
Keqing's expression turned cold. "Not necessary."
Qiqi: "Hu Tao is bad."
Hu Tao didn't mind. "Hehe."
Then they noticed something wrong. The tombstone still had no name. It was just a bare slab. That did not conform to Liyue's customs.
Hu Tao hesitated. "What was that little boy's name again? Cloud Retainer really is lazy—she didn't even write a name on the tombstone."
Qiqi thought for a moment, then realized her memory was poor. She had forgotten.
"Qiqi doesn't remember either."
Keqing thought. "I think it was Li Mo?"
Hu Tao nodded seriously. "That's right. Li Mo. Since he's dead, the tombstone should have his name. Let's write it."
She picked up a sharp stone and carved four crooked characters onto the stone: "Li Mo's Grave."
After finishing, she realized she had written them crookedly. It was a little embarrassing.
But fortunately, there was no rule in Liyue's funeral customs forbidding crooked calligraphy on tombstones. So it was fine.
Yes. That was it. Hu Tao consoled herself.
Keqing looked at the crooked characters. "This is your funeral parlor's service?"
Qiqi: "Hu Tao's handwriting is ugly. Bad service."
Hu Tao chuckled. "As the director, I just oversee the funeral. Writing epitaphs is Zhongli's job. And I have to say, young as he is, Zhongli has beautiful handwriting."
After finishing everything, they suddenly realized something important.
They had come to Mount Aocang at night because of Shenhe, to visit the dead boy. They had even repaired his grave. But where was Shenhe?
Why hadn't she come?
Hu Tao was puzzled. "Shenhe said she had to wait for someone on the streets of Liyue and told us to come ahead. But why isn't she here yet?"
Keqing was equally confused. "Since we've done everything, we don't need to wait for her."
Qiqi: "Let's go back."
They didn't know what was going on with Shenhe, but since she still hadn't arrived, she probably wouldn't come tonight.
So they decided not to wait and returned to Liyue.
...
Now, on the streets of Liyue, by the commission notice board, under the moonlight—
While Hu Tao and the others were repairing the grave, Li Mo, as if sensing something, sneezed.
He looked down at Shenhe, beautiful and elegant, in his arms, breathing in her unique fragrance. His expression was a little awkward, a little helpless.
In this life, his mission was to be a storyteller in Liyue—to make Qiqi cry, to make the Raiden Shogun cry, to make Zhongli cry, to make almost every powerful figure in Teyvat cry.
To avoid affecting his storytelling, he had planned to finish all the stories and complete his mission before revealing his identity.
But unexpectedly, the perceptive Shenhe had seen through him.
Now, he had no choice but to admit it to her. "Little Shenhe, how did you know I would come here?"
He was very frustrated. He had only dared to revisit this old place under the cover of night—the place where he and Shenhe used to take commissions together. And then he ran into her.
Now, Shenhe, the disciple of the adepti, had lost all her ethereal indifference. Her face was pressed against Li Mo's chest, her arms wrapped tightly around him, as if afraid he would escape or disappear.