[Filling the jars with sand symbolizes carrying things with great virtue; their circular shape signifies reunion and perfection; the tightly sealed mouth further implies the deep meaning of stability and thoroughness.]
Once an action is endowed with meaning, it transcends the material itself. The act of burying jars evolved from practical flood control and foundation stabilization into a cultural custom of praying for peace. This is precisely a microcosm of the evolution of mortal civilization, sublimating practical technology into a spiritual sustenance.
The book also attributed the birth of tube tiles and glazed tiles to the inspiration of pickle jars, which was naturally a literary association. The birth of glazed tiles was a miracle resulting from the collision of kiln fires, minerals, and craftsman experience through countless failures and accidents; the process was far more complex and lengthy than "knocking over a color pot."
But... doesn't this association itself prove something?
To link the beautiful glazed tiles covering the myriad grand buildings of Liyue with the simple pickle jars under the eaves of every household is a form of romantic imagination.
People might have forgotten how the real glazed tiles were developed and who invented them, yet they instinctively remember and praise this flower of creativity that bloomed from mundane daily life.
This is not a distortion of history, but another form of remembrance. What is remembered is not a specific event—which has long been impossible to "verify"—but that spirit of not giving up hope in desperate straits, being adept at using the ordinary things around them, and thus uniting as one.
The overturned pigments, sea minerals and shell powder, the tempering of intense fire... everything in the book seemed like a coincidence, but was actually the result of Liyue craftsmen's continuous attempts.
Zhongli's gaze finally landed on the third chapter, on those records buried in history, those ancient jars dug up but recognized by no one, and that "house-settling" ceremony that existed only in form.
[They remained silent, as if they had much to say but hesitated.]
This sentence carried a trace of historical melancholy.
Real feats are forgotten, leaving only blurred traces and altered customs. But Zhongli saw something else in it: the vitality of inheritance.
Even if the meaning has become blurred, the form has been preserved, like a sleeping spark waiting for the possibility of being reignited and understood once more.
Throughout the book, there was no mention of the rule of man, yet every part wrote of the power of people.
Facing disaster, they relied on mortal quick-wittedness and unity. Building their home, they relied on mortal skill and inheritance. Continuing culture, they relied on mortals endowing objects with spirit and constantly evolving and adapting through time.
This produced a wonderful resonance in spirit with his philosophy of ending the "contract" and returning Liyue to humanity itself.
The "Setting the Foundation" ceremony does not actually exist in Liyue; it only exists in the imagination of this story. But Liyue people will feel a cultural identity with it, which precisely shows that this spirit itself has already constituted a part of Liyue's foundation... Outside the window, the twilight deepened.
The truth of history is forged by Jueyun Chili Spears, contracts, and sacrifice.
And the stories of the mortal world are nourished by hope, wisdom, and inheritance.
The two are not mutually exclusive and together constitute the Liyue of today.
Although this book depicts things that are not historical facts, it touches upon a certain deeper "truth." In an era where Gods and demons have exited the stage and the rule of man is rising, such stories might be better able to tell today's Liyue people where they came from and what kind of indomitable souls their ancestors possessed than cold stone inscriptions.
As for this author of mysterious identity, "Lovia"... a nearly imperceptible smile touched the corners of Zhongli's mouth.
A being capable of writing such a story, whoever they may be, has an understanding of Liyue and of "people" that has already transcended the boundaries between the mundane and the divine.
Let her continue writing; in this land he has handed over to the people, having a few more of these "histories of jars" is perhaps not a bad thing.
Although Lovia's other books depicted the geo archon as an idle deity and wrote about non-existent matters with great conviction, he did not feel offended when he saw them; instead, he found it amusing. (Really?)
In those stories, the deity no longer sat high upon a divine throne but walked into the marketplaces.
Then, he thought of the heated discussion that Lovia's book, "secret tales of feiyun," had sparked in Liyue Harbor.
Such arrangements, by normal logic, would likely lead to a lawsuit. But the Feiyun Commerce Guild only gave a helpless smile and did not pursue the matter; instead, because of this unexpected attention, business flourished even more.
When people talked about these anecdotes after tea or a meal, what flickered in their eyes was mostly well-intentioned teasing and a love for the story itself.
This is perhaps where Liyue Harbor's unique vitality lies: in its all-encompassing tolerance.
As long as it is harmless, does not violate the spirit of the contract, and the parties involved agree, people are happy to see a bit more color in life.
As a deity, he was once the legend itself, the maker of rules, and the witness of history. Now having laid down the burden to become a consultant wandering the mortal world, he was more like an observer, watching how people, after breaking free from Gods, used their own ways to record, interpret, and even "create" the world in their eyes.
As long as it does not touch the bottom line or excessively confuse the public, these seemingly "absurd" narratives are instead a manifestation of civilizational vitality—flowers of freedom blooming under the rule of man.
Zhongli picked up the tea that had already grown slightly cold and drank it in one gulp.
He stood up, carefully put away the "history of jars," and then walked out of the tea room with a composed pace, merging into the bustling night of Liyue Harbor.
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