Original God Zhongli BG Xiao Qinglong traveled through time

Fireworks, fluff and silent comfort

Night had fallen, yet Liyue Harbor was as bright as day. Thousands of sky lanterns rose to the depths of the heavens, shimmering against the starlit sky. The harbor's streets were ablaze with light, and the bustle of people surged like a warm tide. The aroma of food, the laughter of children, and the cries of vendors intertwined into a vibrant scene of life. Yet, atop Tianheng Mountain, all this clamor was muted by the night breeze, leaving only blurred light and sound, like watching a grand silent performance through a layer of ambiguous glass.

Xiao remained seated on the bluestone, the silver-gray ball of fur in his arms completely relaxed. The Ragdoll's naturally lush fur seemed especially fluffy in the chill mountain breeze, like a cloud, freshly sunbathed and breathing on its own. She curled up into a tight circle, her chin resting comfortably on her folded front paws. Only her long tail remained in its previous position, its tip vaguely entwined around one of Xiao's fingers, as if it were her only warm anchor to this icy world.

Down the mountain, the first massive firework exploded in the night sky. Its golden-red glow instantly dispelled the gloom from the mountaintop and illuminated the cat's upturned face. Its azure eyes reflected the brilliant yet fleeting light trail. Its pupils constricted slightly at the intense light, yet there was no fear, only a quiet appreciation. Immediately, more fireworks erupted, exploding into shapes of wisteria, autumn peonies, and glazed lilies, filling the night sky with a fleeting, shimmering brilliance.

Against this cacophony of light and shadow, the mountaintop maintained a strange stillness. Yu Qing had unknowingly put away her wine jug and sat hugging her knees on a nearby rock, her chin resting on them. Her crimson eyes reflected the vibrant colors of the sky, yet they were quieter than usual, as if she had sensed a unique loneliness within this intense bustle. Shen He stood quietly beneath a pine tree, gazing upward at the sky. Her icy blue hair shone like pearls in the flickering fireworks. She seemed to be meticulously recording the shape and color of each firework, as if studying a new talisman.

And Xiao, at the center of this silence, felt the most complex of sensations. The weight and warmth of the cat in his arms felt so real, the touch of fur brushing against his arm as soft as willow catkins in early spring. He could clearly feel the cat's subtle rise and fall with each breath, and the instinctive moment when she subconsciously huddled against him as the massive fireworks exploded. This vibrant vitality stood in stark contrast to the karmic silence he was accustomed to. The Nuo mask blocked out the outside world, but it also allowed him to focus even more intently on the tiny being in his arms. He had never felt the pulse of another living being so close, so vulnerable.

The cat seemed to sense his momentary tension. She suddenly moved, turned her head, and glanced at him with her cat-like eyes, which grew clearer in the flickering light. She said nothing, but with a sense of peace that seemed to see through everything. Then, she did something unexpected: she raised one of her front paws, with its pink pads, and gently pressed it against the back of his armored hand. The pads were slightly cool and soft, forming a strange fusion with the hard, cold metal. She didn't use any force, but simply kept it there, like a silent comfort, or a gentle reminder: "I'm here."

Most of the time, she simply watched the fireworks quietly. When a particularly large golden firework filled the sky like an umbrella, she would perk up her ears slightly, letting out a soft, satisfied purr from her throat. When a series of silver-white fireworks cascaded down like a waterfall, the tip of her tail would unconsciously move in time with the rhythm, brushing against his knuckles and bringing a subtle tickle. She would even tilt her head back in the brief darkness between fireworks and rub the tip of her nose against his cold jawline, leaving a slight, wet, warm touch, then turn back as if nothing had happened, as if she had simply been disoriented by the night wind.

This companionship wasn't a passionate confession, nor was it deliberate solace. It was more like a gentle spring flowing through the mountains, silently soaking the cold, hard crevices of the rock. Xiao remained silent, his posture as upright as ever, but the invisible, repelling barrier around him seemed to have subtly weakened under the constant "warmth" of the furry embrace. He didn't even realize that his clenched fist had unconsciously relaxed, allowing the finger entangled by the tail to receive this unfamiliar intimacy.

Yu Qing would occasionally glance over here, her gaze lingering on the figures leaning against each other for a moment, the corner of her lips curling up in a subtle way, but she stopped teasing. Shen He, on the other hand, added a few more notes to her "observation notes," perhaps recording a conclusion that would seem ridiculous to others, such as "furry creatures are effective in relieving stagnant evil spirits."

As the night deepened, the fireworks slowed in frequency, but the lights of Liyue Harbor remained radiant. The cat seemed a little tired, its pauses between watching the fireworks growing longer and longer, until it finally buried its head in Xiao's clothes, revealing only its furry crown and a pair of ears that trembled gently with its breathing. The tip of its tail, wrapped around its finger, finally loosened its grip and drooped softly, resting on his lap.

A mountain breeze blew by, bringing with it the faint strains of the distant "Sea Lantern Festival Ballad." Xiao lowered his head, gazing at the sleeping fur ball in his arms. Her small body rose and fell evenly with her breathing, like a ball of warm snow, alive with life. Beneath the Nuo mask, his expression, unseen by anyone, might have remained cold and hard, but the posture he had maintained all night, and the arms, always folded, never disturbing his peace, spoke volumes.

Atop Tianheng Mountain, the starry sky, after the fireworks had faded, was exceptionally clear. A wisp of night mist, like a veil, drifted upward from the valley floor, gently enveloping the cliffs and shrouding the figures of the man and cat in a tranquil silhouette. In this solitude, guarded by kindness, even the moonlight became exceptionally gentle, gently scattering, coating the silver-gray fur with a faint, dreamlike sheen.