You are shocked to the point of being unable to say a single word. Your tongue is numb, as if a mute spell has been cast upon you.
In front of your eyes, digital reality blinks, shattering your view of the real world.
A transparent box floats, its text shining with a cold golden light.
✓ OBJECTIVE COMPLETED
Build First Contact
Progress: [1/1]
Seeing that notification, your mind immediately grasps its meaning like lightning striking a dry tree.
The deduction comes quickly and undeniable.
In front of you, this girl, is Ganyu!
There, under the reddening twilight sky, you finally find her.
Not behind dusty stacks of documents in the archive warehouse, nor behind the walls of Yuehai Pavilion guarded by Millelith spears, but on a quiet street as she kneels to help the weak.
She is real.
She is here.
And she is less than two meters away from you.
Crazy. This really happened unexpectedly, you say in a small voice, almost like a sigh of wind.
However, in the silence of that street, any sound, no matter how small, is an echo.
Hearing this, Ganyu turns her head. Her movement is smooth, like a deer hearing a twig snap. She tilts her head slightly, her black-red horns catching the remaining sunlight. Her eyes, that pair of differently colored gems, stare at you with innocent curiosity.
Seeing her face from such a close distance is a direct visual blow.
Her beauty isn't the aggressive kind, but the kind that weakens your knees.
You immediately blush, blood rushing up to your face at an embarrassing speed, and you turn your face toward the stone wall beside you, pretending to be interested in the moss growing there.
You draw a deep breath, calming yourself for a few moments. Your heart beats like a war drum pounded by the enemy. Focus. Don't look stupid.
You then clear your throat, awkward, and dare to turn back toward her.
"I was just talking to myself," you deflect, your voice trembling slightly.
You try to divert attention from your own awkwardness.
Glancing at the fallen child's condition, you then squat on the other side, maintaining a polite distance but involved.
You see the child's knee now neatly bandaged.
"Is the wound serious?" you ask Ganyu, your voice sounding more stable.
Ganyu shakes her head. Her cerulean blue hair sways gently.
"Just a small scratch," she replies.
A reply that's too simple for a busy bureaucrat.
Of course, you feel she's just making small talk, lying.
Ganyu then takes the remaining bandage, tidies the child's clothes, and smiles at him while stroking his hair, gently. That touch full of affection.
The child, who was sobbing earlier, now quiets. He wipes the remnants of his tears with his dirty backhand. Then he stares at Ganyu.
That stare… you recognize it.
"Thank you, Sister Ganyu…." the child squeaks, shyly.
He turns away his flushed face, unable to stare at his savior goddess's face.
Huh?
Why is this atmosphere so weird? You glance between the two of them, your eyes bulging. You say inwardly with a tremble. Don't tell me this little kid likes her???
Seeing this, you can only gape for a long time.
This is a comedy that's not funny at all!
A five-year-old boy just fell in love with a career woman!
You shake your head slowly. This is getting scary… my rival is even a snot-nosed kid.
After that, the child stands up. The pain in his knee seems gone by the power of puppy love.
He runs away, but his steps stop every few meters to turn and wave his hand repeatedly at Ganyu.
He smiles happily. His face shines like someone who just saw heaven.
Ganyu and you stand up together.
Ganyu returns the wave with a sweet, genuine smile. She waves her hand too, until the child disappears around the corner.
You watch this in silence with a strange stare. There's a silly jealousy in your heart. The kid got a smile, a head pat, and a bandage.
While you?
You got a death threat from the system if you fail to conquer her!
Then, silence descends again. This time heavier, denser. The child has gone, leaving you two on the quiet path.
You feel this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The fortress door is slightly open, and you must step in before it closes again.
So you intend to ask her a simple question. Your lips already open, ready to launch the opening sentence.
However, those words stop in your throat as memories of the document stacks in the archive warehouse and the rows of Millelith flood your mind.
You remember how high her position is. Qixing Secretary. The right hand of Liyue's power.
A feeling of unworthiness assaults you, cold and paralyzing. As if the distance between you isn't just one meter of space, but different worlds.
If she is a cloud at Jueyun Karst's peak, then you are mud at the harbor's bottom.
You then draw a breath, deep and long, choosing to reorganize your conviction before trying again. This isn't about love, you whisper to yourself. This is about life and death.
You stand a few steps from your target, reorganizing your breath while reminding yourself that this is just formal business.
Think of it as a job interview. Or an interrogation. Anything as long as not a date.
However, the shadow that others—or Ganyu herself—might interpret it as something more, makes you more tense.
You finally affirm again that you're just carrying out a task, letting logic drown all romantic possibilities that weaken your knees.
"Calm down," you say several times in a small voice, reciting a calming mantra for your restless soul.
Hearing this, Ganyu turns to you again.
She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. She stares in confusion, perhaps thinking you're talking to invisible spirits.
You are shocked because you realize your voice leaked out. Your mouth spoke on its own!
Then your face heats up again, and you turn your face briefly toward the bamboo tree.
You straighten your back.
The tendency to belittle and apologize arises, but you suppress it. Insecurity will only make you look pathetic, not attractive.
You then stand tall within reasonable limits, ensuring your posture shows respect without losing self-esteem.
Mimicking the practice earlier on the park bench—a practice you thought was a total failure—you try to apply it.
At first you're nervous, your voice almost breaks, but you hold back and force your tone to be calm.
"It's really unexpected to meet someone else around here," you say.
You glance around, a bit stiff, seeming no living presence besides you two and some fireflies starting to appear.
"What are you doing here, Miss?" you say, trying to ask as normally as possible.
Clearly, you're afraid of misspeaking.
The question is simple, but in your own ears it sounds like a police question.
Ganyu pauses for a moment. Her index finger touches her chin, her eyes staring at the darkening sky as if seeking answers among the stars.
"Taking a walk," she replies briefly.
A reply too simple for a busy bureaucrat.
Of course, you feel she's just making small talk, lying.
Ganyu then starts walking slowly, traversing that path.
You are shocked.
She doesn't drive you away?
She doesn't call the Millelith, right?
You then try to follow her, aligning your steps right beside her, maintaining a polite distance but close enough to talk.
Seeing you chasing her and walking beside her, she puts on a surprised face. Her eyes widen slightly.
She is about to open her mouth as if wanting to speak, perhaps to ask why you're following her, but she closes it again before the sound comes out.
Her shoulders draw together, as if she wants to shrink her own body. Her gaze avoids every time you look at her. She fiddles with her hem, her fingers restlessly tugging at the fabric at her waist.
Is she shy? You stare at her closely.
Knowing this, a wave of calmness washes over you.
Turns out, she's nervous, awkward. Just like you!
"By the way, what's your name?" you ask, this time more confidently.
Hearing that, she seems a bit surprised. As if she didn't expect someone in Liyue not to know who she is. Or perhaps, she's glad to be treated as an ordinary stranger.
Then she smiles. A thin smile, but it feels genuine.
"Ganyu. Just call me Ganyu."
Without title. Without embellishment as Secretary. Just the name.
"Nice talking to you, Miss Ganyu," you say, feeling that name roll sweetly on your tongue.
"Me too… Sir…." she replies hanging, not asking your name back, perhaps too nervous or forgetting social etiquette.
Then, you walk in silence. You observe her fingers intertwining in front of her stomach, then releasing again, squeezing air, while her gaze glides uncertainly between the stone path and your face. Her lips open slightly, close, then open again, like a machine not finding how to start.
She's clearly confused about continuing the conversation.
She's a woman used to talking about taxes, construction, and laws.
Casual talk with a stranger on a quiet street isn't her expertise!
You intend to prolong the conversation, wanting to ask about her work, or about this city.
However, when Ganyu turns elsewhere, seeing the sundial whose shadow remains, she seems hurried.
Anxiety starts creeping on her face.
Work calls her back.
You stop teasing her. Alright, for now, enough up to here. Retreat one step to advance two steps later.
You don't try to ask when she can meet again.
Even though you're someone who's never interacted with a woman, your survival instinct flares.
Aggressive questions like that will make the other party suspicious. That's the mark of a stalker!
But thinking about it, you've waited a long time for this moment carefully. You've climbed hills, sneaked into warehouses, and waited hours, hoping the first contact could give you a clearer picture of her.
However, the conversation ended too quickly. Just a few sentences. Leaving an empty impression that confuses you whether you've done enough for "First Contact".
You finally decide to try again at another opportunity, this time with more mature preparation.
Ganyu looks confused at you who suddenly stops moving.
She stops too, turns back, still with a confused face and a bit of guilt for having to leave.
You stare at Ganyu from that two-meter distance, trying to assess if she shows signs of continuing to know you.
Did you leave a mark in her memory?
However, anxiety arises when she seems ready to turn without additional words. As if your meeting never happened, just a passing wind.
You finally decide to accept that possibility, while hoping the next opportunity gives room for her to remember.
Still with the smile you maintain with all your might, you then say in a cheerful tone, "Then, good luck with work!"
Once again she's shocked. Her eyes blink. Simple praise or encouragement seems rare for her to receive from strangers.
She smiles again, this time a bit wider. And she nods.
"Thank you."
After that, you watch her turn and leave. Her steps quick, returning to light and almost floating, disappearing behind the road turn toward Yuehai Pavilion.
You stare at her back in silence, recording that silhouette in your memory.
Once realizing no one around, once her shadow truly disappears, your calm mask collapses instantly.
Your lips immediately lift high, grinning wide until your cheeks hurt. Your breath bursts out in uncontrollable laughter, "Pfft... Hahahaha!"
That laughter flows like water from a broken dam, breaking the night silence.
Then you stretch your arms to the air, hugging the night sky, your smile blooming wildly as if the world finally belongs to you alone. Your eyes sparkle like a child who just escaped death penalty.
"I did it! I talked to her! She told me her name!" you exclaim to the moon.
That euphoric feeling is intoxicating.
The death threat from the system feels so far away right now. You feel alive.
Then you stop. Your hands lower slowly.
You glance around. Dark streets. Bamboo trees everywhere. Street lanterns sparse.
"Now, which way home?" you narrow your eyes, your smile fading replaced by confusion.
You try to follow your memory of the first turn, sure that downhill path will take you home to the lodging area. You step confidently.
But Liyue is a city built on a stone dragon's back. Its streets winding, tiered, and deceptive.
Every city corner looks similar—white walls, gray roofs, stone paths.
One hour passes. You're still walking. Two hours pass. Your sneaker-clad feet start hurting again.
You are trapped in an endless loop, passing the same ginkgo tree for the third time.
Is this a test from the System? you grumble.
After a few hours later, when your feet feel like detaching and your stomach rumbles loudly demanding the missed dinner portion, you finally return to the most familiar place—a stone statue near the market gate you passed this afternoon.
You needed a long time until you found your starting point.
However, when you finally see your lodging lights from afar, you don't feel entirely annoyed.
In your memory pocket, there's a name and a smile you stole from the secretary.
…
After that, you don't go straight to your lodging.
Your feet, weary from getting lost for hours on winding streets, lead you not to bed, but to a tantalizing aroma source.
You enter that restaurant, sit on a wooden bench slick from thousands of previous customers, and order Liyue food with a sailor's appetite who's just landed.
In front of you served spicy Black-Back Perch Stew and glistening Crystal Shrimp.
You eat the Liyue food with satisfaction!
The spicy taste burns your tongue, the savory taste caresses your throat.
For a moment, you forget you're a foreigner.
You forget your life is at stake.
You're just a man enjoying dinner!
As you eat the last bite, you put down your chopsticks and sigh long. That satisfaction so real you can't hold it.
"This is amazing! This seasoning… I've never tasted such balance in my original place. The spiciness doesn't hurt, but hugs!" you exclaim sincerely.
The chef, a burly man with an oil-stained apron comes out of the kitchen. His oily face beams hearing your praise.
In this city full of criticism and bargaining, sincere praise is the rarest spice!
What makes the food come and accept the praise happily.
He laughs, his belly shaking. "Hahaha! You have a sharp tongue, Young Man! Rare for a newcomer to understand Jueyun chili art!"
"As thanks for your praise." He goes back to the kitchen briefly and appears again carrying a small plate.
He gives free dessert for nothing. A piece of soft Almond Tofu, white like marble, trembling on the plate.
"Wow! Is it okay for me to eat?" you ask with sparkling eyes, like a child getting an unexpected gift.
"Of course! Consider this Liyue's welcome to you," he replies while patting your shoulder roughly but friendly.
You spoon that dessert. Cold, sweet, and soft. It melts in your mouth, neutralizing the previous spiciness.
Finished eating, you yawn. Your stomach full, your heart a bit warmer. The world feels a bit more reasonable.
As you lean back sated, your eyes unconsciously glance at the empty air in front of you.
You stare at the system panel that appears, shining blue amid the dim eatery.
The text there changes, crumbling the Almond Tofu's comfort you just swallowed.
The system displays the next mission.
(INCOMPLETE) Gain Basic Trust
Progress: [0/3]
You freeze.
The euphoric sun that shone earlier when you met Ganyu, now covered by dark clouds.
Your heart refuses to move, feeling heavy as if a stone is tied there.
You feel your mediocre social skills aren't enough to face that new challenge.
Basic trust? your mind screams. How? I can't even ask directions without looking suspicious!
Clearly the obstacles are getting harder. Meeting can be done with luck or accident.
But trust? Trust must be built.
Must be nurtured.
And that needs time, strategy, and consistency.
Something you—the foreigner in ethnic cardigan—don't have.
You let the memory of the short conversation with Ganyu this afternoon float in your mind.
"Nice talking to you..." "Taking a walk..."
That's it. Stiff conversation. Broken.
But the more you recall it, dissecting it word by word, the bigger the worry that grows.
The worry that the contact isn't enough to make you recognized or remembered.
You thought about this before, after chatting alone with her, but now you just understand the reality!
For Ganyu, your two-minute meeting might equal an eye blink.
You're just dust passing on her shoulder!
"Ahh… damn!" you curse softly, massaging your suddenly throbbing temples.
You then draw a breath, trying to calm yourself.
You start devising a small strategy, turning your tired brain so the next interaction can be more substantial.
Maybe pretend to drop something? No, too cliché.
Maybe apply for work at a place she often passes?
You stare at the system for a long time, as if hoping your stare can magically change the number [0/3] to [3/3].
You stare until bored, until your eyes water.
Then sigh, long and heavy. You realize, no shortcuts.
You stand, leaving some mora on the table as payment for the main meal, and walk out.
Outside, Liyue's night wind greets you coldly.
You choose to slow your steps, enjoying yet hating the street silence.
You stop briefly under a nearly dead lantern, before truly stepping forward.
While stepping toward the lodging, another reality hits you.
Your hand rummages in your pocket, pulling out the Mora pouch now feeling very light.
Its clinking sound no longer merry, but pitiful. Kling... klong... Just a few coins clashing.
You count again the pouch contents while walking, your fingers feeling the gold coin surfaces, hoping the mora amount inside isn't as bad as you guess.
Hoping some coins miraculously multiplied.
But mathematics is a cruel science.
When seeing the remaining coins, anxiety immediately squeezes your chest. Tonight's dinner, though satisfying, its price considerable for an unemployed.
Lodging rent for tomorrow... the day after... and next week.
As if every small expense is a new threat. Every bite a reduction in life ration.
Addition and subtraction never lie.
You exhale, white vapor out of your mouth.
"How do I get a job here?"
That question hangs in the night air. You have no recommendation letter. You have no special skills in this world. You have no connections besides the old merchant you helped and the bespectacled man who knows where.
You finally decide to hold back from unnecessary expenses. No more snacks, no more luxuries.
You must start finding ways to add income before the situation worsens.
Right, before you become a vagrant in Teyvat's richest city.
The streets to your lodging empty.
Shops already closed, leaving only swaying signboards blown by wind.
Your shadow lengthens on the paving stones, your only faithful friend tonight.
Desperate, you look up at the sky, or more precisely, at the interface screen invisible to others.
"Can't you help me, System?" you whisper. Your voice sounds pleading, a plea from a tortured servant to his mute master.
"Give me a little capital? Or at least a hint where job vacancies accept foreigners without identity?"
Silence.
The panel remains blue. Remains cold. Remains silent. It only displays the demanding mission objective, without providing means to achieve it.
At this point it's too late, so when you talk to yourself, debating empty air, no one sees you strangely.
Only a street cat jumping on rooftops stares at you briefly, then leaves, as if knowing you have no food to share.
You're alone.
…
A/N: This makes me confused about how the protagonist gets a job. He doesn't have fighting skills… so I think he won't work as an adventurer. Briefly crossed my mind the possibility of him working for the old grandpa to sustain his daily life. Well, he doesn't have long-term goals so he definitely isn't aiming for wealth. Or, should I make the system side with him by giving a quest with mora reward? I need your opinions!