Zhongli sat cross-legged on the donkey cart, staring at Adrian's back with a faint expression of helplessness.
Most adepti disciples were detached from worldly desires, seeing wealth as nothing more than dust.
A disciple like Adrian—who calculated profit in everything—was almost unheard of.
Even as the Geo Archon, ancestor of all adepti, Zhongli knew this man would not give face.
After a while, Zhongli finally spoke again.
"Boss Adrian… I won't hide it from you. I am, at the moment… financially constrained. Is there another way to make this happen?"
"Of course."
Adrian kept leading the donkey forward at an unhurried pace.
"We're short on Mora. So we simply go to the people who have money."
Zhongli leaned forward.
"Who has money?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Adrian replied without turning his head.
"The Liyue Qixing. You're the Archon—just give them a decree and make them pay."
Zhongli refused instantly.
"Absolutely not. I may be the Archon, but I cannot seize private wealth."
Adrian shrugged.
"Fine. Then use tax money. True Lord Copper Sparrow died defending Liyue's people. It's only right the people contribute a little."
Zhongli thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"People already struggle to survive. Tax revenue should go toward easing their hardship. Copper Sparrow would not wish to burden the people because of him."
Adrian stopped walking, turned around, and glared at him.
"Old man, this isn't allowed, that isn't allowed—
So what you want is for me to work for free, right?"
Zhongli coughed lightly, embarrassed.
He had originally planned on that, but now… no way he could admit it.
"It seems I oversimplified the matter… Perhaps this task should be set aside for now."
Adrian waved a hand.
"There is a way. But…"
He deliberately dragged his voice.
Zhongli understood immediately.
"Speak. As long as it is within my power, I will agree."
Adrian grinned.
"From today onward, every Send-Off Ceremony in Liyue is to be handled exclusively by my funeral house."
Zhongli froze for a moment, surprised the demand was so mundane.
After a short hesitation, he nodded.
"Very well. I agree."
Adrian snapped his fingers.
"Deal! And if you ever want to pull another 'fake-death' trick again, you'd better let my company handle the send-off."
"…Fine."
"So, tell me, Archon—do you prefer Liyue-style funerals? Or maybe foreign traditions? Should I burn you extra paper-effigies? Beautiful maidens? Want deposits in Heaven Bank or Universe Bank?"
Zhongli fell silent.
…
Before long, under the dimming evening light, the donkey cart arrived at Adrian's Funeral House.
Right on time, Cloud Retainer arrived as well.
Adrian cooked personally. Soon, the table was filled with a rich, fragrant dinner. The three sat together, drinking warmly and chatting freely.
For a moment, Zhongli felt as though he had returned to a time long past—a time when he had been surrounded by dear friends, drinking together, laughing under the moonlight.
But as the years flowed on, every one of those friends had left him, one by one…
Until only he remained to face the endless passage of ages.
The Next Morning
Adrian and Shenhe walked side by side along a narrow path through the wilderness. The land was barren, quiet, and spacious; their shadows stretched long across the ground.
They walked for a long time, slowly and naturally drifting closer—close enough that Adrian could catch the faint, clean fragrance of Qingxin flowers lingering on Shenhe's body.
That subtle scent wound through the air like a drifting whisper, brushing against his senses and stirring his heart.
Just as his thoughts began to wander, a voice drifted over from ahead—a man reciting poetry:
"Green hills and clear waters, drifting souls…
At leisure in life, I shake my fan…"
Adrian raised his head.
In front of a completely ruined shrine, a middle-aged scholar sat serenely, fan in hand, reciting verses.
Adrian stepped forward and opened his mouth without hesitation:
"True Lord Copper Sparrow, you're certainly relaxed. Your own shrine is falling apart, and you still have the mood to recite poetry here."
The scholar froze in shock.
Then, after a moment of surprise, he burst into hearty laughter.
"So it's an adepti disciple! No wonder you recognized me. But you—your cultivation aptitude is terrible!"
Adrian felt a vein pop. His trash aptitude was truly fated to be mocked forever.
He immediately changed the subject.
"Yesterday the Archon came to me. He wants me to rebuild your shrine, restore your worship, and keep your last wisp of soul from fading completely."
Copper Sparrow's eyes instantly reddened.
"The Archon… He—he never forgot me…"
Adrian sighed.
"Don't get moved just yet. The one paying for all this? That's me."
But Copper Sparrow shook his head.
"If not for the Archon's command, you would not do this for me."
Adrian didn't bother arguing. Instead, he inspected the shrine.
Copper Sparrow followed him closely, rambling nonstop, praising Zhongli's past achievements like a completely hopeless fanboy.
After a moment, Adrian frowned deeply.
The shrine was in ruins.
Only the central stone statue remained mostly intact.
The walls were half collapsed, bricks scattered everywhere.
The wooden beams had rotted into blackened splinters.
The roof had holes large enough for sunlight to pour through in bright columns, illuminating floating dust.
To repair it, everything would need to be torn down and rebuilt.
But this location was remote and difficult to access—the construction costs would be enormous.
After thinking for a long moment, Adrian finally asked:
"Copper Sparrow… what do you think of Mt. Tianheng?"
Advance Chapters available on P@treon
patreon.com/soulrequiem
