Original God Zhongli BG Xiao Qinglong traveled through time

The afternoon in Inazuma Castle was shrouded in a sticky, tepid languor. The air was thick with the overly sweet fragrance of the crimson cherry blossoms, emanating before they withered, mixed with the unique salty smell of the harbor, weighing heavily on one's nose and mouth.

Xingqiu sat alone in the window-side tea room of Kamisato Yashiki, snow-white rice paper spread out before him, yet he hadn't touched a brush in ages. The wolf-hair brush, so free and unrestrained in his brushwork, now felt as heavy as a rock. His delicate brows were furrowed, his amber eyes reflecting the overly bright spring light outside the window, yet they seemed empty and anxious. A mountain of discarded paper piled in a corner of the desk, each twisted "Pillow Jade" character a silent mockery of his futility.

"It's just a signature..." He muttered to himself, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the cloud pattern embroidered on the cuffs. The sky-blue fabric seemed to be a little dimmed by the owner's uneasy mood.

At that moment, Lin Huan's figure appeared silently in the shadows of the porch. She was wearing a plain, rain-soaked, sky-blue gown that made her look even more elegant, like a bamboo. Her steps seemed to lighten the sticky air around her.

"Look at you, you look like you've been possessed by some demon." Her voice was as gentle as ever, like the tapping of jade. "Hurry up and follow me to the harbor to get some fresh air and dispel the gloom that fills this room."

Xingqiu looked up, his face filled with reluctance and struggle: "Sister Huanhuan, I..."

"Don't mention 'I,'" Lin Huan interrupted without further ado. She had already walked up to him and gently placed her bare hands on his tense shoulders. "Being confined to a small space all day, struggling with inanimate objects, will wear away your spirituality. Besides—" Her eyes raised slightly, a subtle hint of deep meaning flashed across them. "Two old friends have returned from a long voyage and need a cup of tea to soothe them. Wouldn't such a refined occasion be dull without our Teacher Zhenyu?"

Her force was gentle, yet carried an undeniable intensity. Xingqiu was almost half-pushed, half-pulled to his feet. He glanced chagrined at the unfinished game on the table, but ultimately sighed and followed obediently.

Wendy had been waiting in the courtyard, idly strumming her zither and humming a tuneless Inazuma ballad. Seeing them emerge, her emerald eyes curved into crescents. "Oh, my! We've finally invited our great writer! If you keep quiet, I'm afraid the cherry blossoms in the yard will be stained black by your melancholy!"

The three of them walked through the bustling streets of Inazuma City. The closer they got to the port, the stronger the sea breeze grew, bringing a chill from the ocean that penetrated clothes and somewhat dispelled Xingqiu's irritability. He took a deep breath and tried to mentally sketch the words "Pillow Jade" again, but his thoughts were completely interrupted by a long, melodious whistle from the harbor ahead.

The island pier was already in sight. The massive Southern Cross Fleet flagship, the Death Star, like a weathered giant, slowly approached its berth. Its dark hull, etched with the marks of waves and time, stood out against the delicate Inazuma vessels surrounding it, appearing exceptionally rugged and powerful.

A crowd gradually gathered, awaiting the arrival of friends, family, or cargo. Lin Huan stood at the edge of the dock, the sea breeze ruffling her hair and the wide sleeves of her blue shirt. Her gaze, calm as water, fixed on the deck of the massive ship, seemed to be waiting for something.

Xingqiu followed her gaze and saw that the first thing that caught his eye on the deck was an extremely eye-catching maple red.

He was a white-haired young man, his figure erect as a solitary pine in the wind. The sea breeze whipped the hems of his maple-red robes like a flame that would never be extinguished. He didn't lean against the side of the boat, but simply stood quietly, his gaze calmly sweeping across the gradually clearing Inazuma Port. His expression carried the indifference of someone returning from a long journey, yet also a subtle hint of fatigue, as if a myriad of thoughts had settled.

Half a step behind him stood another young man.

The man wore a slightly worn indigo-blue samurai uniform. His frame was lean, yet his back stood straight, like the equally silent katana at his waist. His features weren't particularly handsome, but they were defined, and the taut curve of his jaw revealed a restrained resolve. His eyes were the most striking thing—a pair that seemed to have condensed all the thunder and storm, remaining at a state of ultimate calm. Deep and dark, they seemed to absorb all light, yet within their depths, a faint, unfading spark of faith flickered.

He stood there quietly, like a silent shadow, yet impossible to ignore. It was as if he himself was a heavy and turbulent past that needed no words.

Xingqiu's heart inexplicably trembled slightly.

Are these the two people? The "old friends" that Sister Huanhuan mentioned?

The ship finally docked, the gangway was lowered, and the crowd began to surge.

The young man with white hair and red clothes, Fengyuan Manye, was the first to step down the gangway. He walked calmly, his eyes moving through the crowd, quickly settling on Lin Huan. A faint, sincere smile played at the corner of his lips, and he quickened his pace towards him.

"Miss Lin, Master Wendy," he greeted politely, his voice as clear as a stream. "It's been a long time since we last met. I hope you are well." His eyes then fell on Xingqiu, with just the right amount of inquiry.

"This is Liyue's Zhenyu teacher, Xingqiu," Lin Huan introduced gently, stepping aside to let Xingqiu move to the front. "He's also a good friend of ours."

Xingqiu quickly collected his thoughts and followed the standard ancient Liyue etiquette: "I've long heard of Brother Fengyuan." He took a deep breath, trying to dispel the chaotic thoughts about signatures in his mind.

Wan Ye returned the greeting with a humble attitude: "Teacher Zhenyu, you are very polite. The plot of "Shen Qiu Shi Jian Lu" is full of twists and turns, and the chivalrous spirit is unstoppable. After reading it, I also yearn for it."

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the indigo-colored figure quietly approached Manye's side. His movements were silent, as if blending into the bustling background of the harbor.

Lin Huan turned his gaze to him, the smile on his face remained unchanged, but seemed to have deepened, with a kind of silent sigh that had been settled over time.

"Thank you for your hard work during this stormy journey." Her words were simple, but seemed to contain thousands of words.

The friend nodded slightly in return. His gaze met Lin Huan's for a moment, and a faint, unwavering understanding, like the reunion of old friends, seemed to flicker across his calm, unwavering eyes. He said nothing, simply standing there quietly, yet he possessed a calm, mountain-like demeanor that startled Xingqiu.

Wendy approached with a grin and patted Manye's shoulder. "You're back just in time! Inazuma's cherry blossom wine and Liyue's fine wine are waiting for you! And this guy..." He looked at his silent friend curiously and blinked. "It's obvious he's someone with a story! Why don't we find a place to chat over a drink?"

At this moment, a calm and gentle voice sounded from the side:

"It seems that I have arrived at the right time."

Everyone turned around to see Albedo had arrived at the harbor without them noticing. He still wore the same meticulous, scholarly demeanor, his blond hair glistening with an almost metallic sheen in the harbor sunlight. His gaze swept calmly over the crowd, finally, like a precision instrument locking onto a target, it settled on Xingqiu.

"Mr. Makutama," Albedo stepped forward, his tone calm but unmistakable in its seriousness. "I've been looking for you for something. I've been thinking a lot about the portrait of the 'Five Songs Immortal' for the Rongcai Festival..." He paused, his lake-green eyes gleaming with the light of an artist focused on his creation. "For the role of 'Aoi no Ou', I think you'd be the most suitable person to portray his character. What are your thoughts?"

"—!"

Xingqiu felt a buzzing in his ears, as if all sounds had instantly faded away. The whistling sea breeze, the clamor of the dock, the laughter of his friends... all faded into a blurry background. He could only see Albedo's calm, expectant face, and countless fragments of the aged image of "Aoi" exploded in his mind, intertwined with his own awful signature practice drafts.

The anxiety that had been slightly dispelled by the sea breeze now surged back with even greater force, instantly engulfing him. Modeling for Mr. Albedo? Showcasing the character of Aoi?

Is he worthy?

The youth's cheeks instantly drained of color, his fingertips curled slightly in his wide sleeves. He opened his mouth, but his throat was too dry to produce a sound. He could feel Lin Huan's concerned gaze, Wan Ye's slightly probing gaze, and the calm, all-seeing gaze of his silent friend.

The harbor wind still blew, carrying with it the vastness and freedom of the ocean. Yet Xingqiu felt as if he were imprisoned in an even tighter cage, constructed of pen, ink, paper, and self-doubt.

From that moment on, his Rong Cai Festival seemed to have truly taken on weight—a weight so heavy it threatened to crush his frail shoulders. And that silent indigo figure and Albedo's calm words were like two invisible barriers, trapping him in the middle of a dilemma.