Chapter 104: Zhongli's Confession, the Power of the Youyou March
"This matter involves… certain means that defy common sense," Zhongli's voice remained as steady as stone as he recounted his experience.
"I was invited by a group of… rather 'special' friends. Using a communication device that can connect different worlds, I participated in a motorcycle race held in an otherworldly realm known as the Hollow. While there, I assisted the locals in resolving a crisis that could have overturned their existing order."
"Subsequently, because the Traveler encountered some difficulties, I then traveled thousands of miles to Natlan to assist Lumine and Paimon in resolving a thorny incident involving Abyssal erosion and ancient secret rituals. For the past two days, I have been rushing between these two worlds."
He omitted the specific name and operational details of the 'chat group,' but the core experiences—the otherworldly race and the one-day round trip to Natlan—were not concealed in the slightest.
As Zhongli's words fell, a strange, heavy silence descended upon the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
Only the little ghosts on the plate of Youyou March continued to grin with unnerving "innocence."
Hu Tao's expression shifted through a rapid series of emotions: from a scrutinizing 'Let's see how you spin this,' to a bewildered 'What in the world is he talking about?', before finally settling into an extremely complex look—a mixture of shock, deep worry, and a heavy sense of 'It's over, it's over, the consultant's brain has finally broken.'
She shot up from her seat and took a quick step to stand before Zhongli. Rising onto her tiptoes, she pressed her small hand firmly against his forehead without a word.
"Hiss… It's not hot…" Hu Tao's hand carefully felt Zhongli's forehead, then her own. Her delicate brows knitted together, as if she had just encountered an unmatched and unsolvable problem.
She withdrew her hand and gazed up at Zhongli with her plum-blossom eyes, her expression utterly serious and brimming with concern. Her tone was more solemn than ever, even carrying a hint of the gentle cadence one might use to coax a child.
"Consultant… you… you tell me honestly…" She paused, seemingly searching for the least hurtful way to phrase her question.
"Have you been… overworked recently? Or… did you catch a cold at night and run a fever for several days that… burned out your brain? Perhaps you ate some undercooked mushrooms and are having strange hallucinations?"
She pointed a trembling finger at the plate of Youyou March on the table, then back at Zhongli. "What… otherworldly Hollow racing? What… going to Natlan and back in a single day to help the Traveler fight the Abyss? These things…"
Hu Tao's voice rose, laced with disbelief. "Even those True Monarchs in Liyue who can ride the clouds and have lived for thousands of years couldn't do something like that!"
"Your experiences these past two days… aren't they a bit too… 'eventful' and 'colorful'? It sounds like the new 'Tales of the Unusual' being staged by the Yun-Han Opera Troupe…"
Her eyes were filled with genuine, unfeigned worry, as if she was moments away from having her knowledgeable consultant sent to Bubu Pharmacy for an emergency consultation.
"Consultant, how about… you go back to your room and get some good sleep first? You don't need to worry about the parlor's affairs. Or… I'll go invite Mister Baizhu right now! We can have him give you a thorough check-up and prescribe some medicine to calm your nerves and stabilize your mind."
Clearly, Zhongli's frank narration had not brought enlightenment to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, but rather a much deeper suspicion.
In Hu Tao's plum-blossom eyes, shock and worry intertwined, eventually settling into a heavy sentiment that screamed, 'This child is seriously ill.'
She knew her consultant had a mysterious background and might even have some connection to the adepti, but "otherworldly Hollow racing" and a "one-day round trip to Natlan"…
It was too bizarre. It sounded like a tall tale spun by a cheap storyteller under a bridge to attract a crowd, and a low-quality one at that.
"Consultant…" Hu Tao's voice was now filled with a deep helplessness, her tone soft and placating.
"Although our Liyue Harbor is vast and there are many legends of the adepti, I've never heard of any True Monarch who could instantly cross thousands of miles, let alone go to another world to drive a car… You, this…"
Zhongli looked at Hu Tao's 'I understand you're under a lot of stress' expression and knew that mere words would not convince her.
He sighed softly. "Director, if you would please wait a moment. I have physical evidence."
As he spoke, his hand moved to his waist, preparing to produce the motorcycle that Xianyun had modified—a vehicle that was a fusion of otherworldly and adeptal technology.
Clatter!
A crisp sound of chopsticks falling to the floor suddenly rang out, interrupting Zhongli's movement.
Both of them turned to look. Daiyuan, who had been sitting quietly to the side, was frozen in the posture of reaching for his chopsticks, his expression completely blank, his eyes hollow.
And on the plate of Youyou March before him, one of the plump little ghosts was now missing a large bite.
"Brother Daiyuan?" Hu Tao called out in confusion.
Daiyuan showed no reaction. His body swayed slightly, as if his very soul had been dislodged from its vessel.
His expression shifted in an instant: first came bewilderment, which twisted into extreme shock and agony—as if he had just tasted the most profane substance in the world. His pupils then lost all focus, his gaze becoming distant and empty, and the corners of his mouth began to twitch uncontrollably.
Zhongli's expression changed. He immediately stood and strode to Daiyuan's side. Realizing something was terribly wrong, Hu Tao also hurried over.
"Daiyuan? Daiyuan!" Zhongli called out in a deep voice. He extended a finger, its tip glowing with a trace of gentle Geo energy, and lightly touched it to Daiyuan's brow.
Hu Tao anxiously shook Daiyuan's arm. "Brother Daiyuan! Wake up! What's wrong with you?"
Under the gentle stimulation of Zhongli's elemental power and their urgent calls, Daiyuan's vacant eyes finally began to regain their focus.
He took a sharp, ragged breath, like a drowning man breaking the surface, and began to cough violently.
The "flashback" of images that had been rapidly cycling before his eyes—a chaotic mix of ancient memories and the searing pain of erosion, like an old, damaged film—gradually faded. The concerned voices of Zhongli and Hu Tao finally became clear in his ears.
"Cough… cough, cough…" Daiyuan shook his still-dazed head, looking blankly at the two worried faces before him.
"I… what happened to me… just now?" He felt a deep numbness in his mouth, as if all his taste buds had been utterly annihilated and then scoured smooth, leaving behind only an indescribable, pure sense of 'tastelessness.'
He subconsciously glanced at the plate of Youyou March on the table. The "little ghost" with the bite missing seemed to look back at him with an air of pure innocence.
"You… you seemed to have tasted a bite of this," Hu Tao said, pointing at the dish, her small face a mask of apology and lingering fear. "And then you… you suddenly looked like your soul had left your body! No matter how I called, you wouldn't respond! You scared this Director to death!"
Zhongli silently withdrew his finger and calmly replied, "It is fine. Perhaps it is because he has only just recovered from a serious illness and his constitution is still weak. Coupled with this… dish's unique aura, it momentarily impacted his mind and caused a temporary disassociation of the soul. Such phenomena are recorded in ancient texts."
"It is also possible that you have been trying new cultivation methods recently, and the circulation of your energies was momentarily stagnant."
He calmly fabricated an excuse for both Hu Tao's culinary "masterpiece" and Daiyuan's condition. "The next time we see little Paimon, who can purify anomalies, we will simply ask her to help you sort things out again."
He cleverly shifted the responsibility to "recovering from a serious illness" and "cultivation mishaps," doing his best to save face for his Director.
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