Chapter 312: Venti's True Tavern Appeal
Stelle held the faintly glowing purple Gene Lock cultivation orb between her fingertips, her thumb brushing against its smooth, glass-like surface. She lowered her hand toward the open delivery box, but her movements paused just as the orb hovered over the velvet-lined interior.
Sending a bare, unexplained orb across the cosmos felt entirely too careless. Would Firefly and Kafka even know what to do with it?
Her brow furrowed slightly. If they tossed this incredibly valuable item into a containment vault out of suspicion, or hesitated to activate it out of an abundance of caution, all her hard work would go straight down the drain.
Making up her mind, Stelle pulled her hand back. She needed to write a letter. A highly detailed, complete manual of sorts.
It had to break down the exact origins of this Gene Lock system, outline the foundational cultivation methods, and clearly list the potential physical risks, especially the violent bodily stress that usually accompanied the initial awakening phase. Beyond the clinical details, she also wanted to weave in her own encouragement, letting them know she believed in them.
Besides, it was the perfect excuse to catch up. She wanted to chat with Kafka, Silver Wolf, Blade, and Firefly about their recent bounties and escapades. She needed to tell them that she was thriving aboard the Astral Express, that she had stumbled into a dozen ridiculous and thrilling adventures, and that despite the vast distance between their respective paths, they were always on her mind.
Glancing down at the delivery box, Stelle noticed the subtle distortion of light within its depths. The interior clearly used some form of high-tier spatial expansion technology. There was more than enough room inside. Sending it half-empty would be a tragic waste of premium shipping.
Acting on the thought, Stelle immediately began rummaging through her spatial storage. She bypassed a pile of shiny trash and half-eaten consumables until her fingers closed around a stack of high-quality stationary and a sleek fountain pen. Clearing a space on the table, she leaned over and began to write, the nib scratching rhythmically against the paper.
The pages addressed to Kafka carried a subtle tone of reliance, structured almost like a dutiful report to a guardian, detailing her growth and current status.
The letter for Silver Wolf was entirely different, filled with chaotic gamer slang, playful banter, and boasts about the bizarre new mechanics and systems she had encountered.
Her message to Blade was kept deliberately brief, offering quiet respect and a simple wish for his continued endurance.
The final letter, dedicated to Firefly, spanned several pages. Stelle poured her heart into the ink, filling the lines with warm encouragement, gentle reminders to take care of her health, and a unique, lingering tenderness born from the unforgettable bond they had forged beneath the neon skies of Penacony's dreamscape.
After finishing the thick stack of letters, Stelle carefully folded them into neat squares.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, slightly worn photograph. It was the picture she had taken with Firefly back in the dreamscape. Looking at Firefly's genuinely radiant smile, tinged with that familiar hint of shyness, the corners of Stelle's own lips unconsciously curved upward.
Applying a thin layer of adhesive to the back, she pressed the photograph firmly onto the inside of the delivery box's lid, right where it would be impossible to miss.
This way, the moment Kafka or the others cracked the seal, they would be greeted by this familiar memory. They would instantly know exactly who the sender was, allowing their legendary paranoia to drop just enough to prevent any unnecessary misunderstandings.
Satisfied with her work, Stelle solemnly placed the pulsing purple orb and the thick stack of letters into the center of the expanded space. She closed the lid, the latches clicking securely into place. Grabbing a marker, she wrote the recipient information across the top casing in bold, unmistakable letters.
To the Stellaron Hunters, for Sam's personal attention. From Stelle.
The moment the ink dried, the blurry, indistinct logo stamped onto the surface of the box began to emit a soft, rhythmic glow. A faint ripple distorted the air around it, bending the light like a mirage.
Without a single sound, the box vanished from the table. It carried her hopes and quiet affections, tearing through the fabric of space to traverse the endless sea of stars toward its destination.
Staring at the empty patch of wood where the box had just been, Stelle let out a long, quiet sigh, her chest tightening with a warm sense of anticipation.
Meanwhile, across the dimensional divide, within the distant world of Teyvat.
The winds of Mondstadt City blew crisp and clean. Lumine and Paimon, accompanied by Venti, quietly slipped onto the highest balcony of the Knights of Favonius headquarters' bell tower. They had just come from a rather chaotic encounter with Klee, securing the little spark Knight's innocent, purely luck-based blessing before making their escape.
The view from the towering stone structure was magnificent. The expansive blue sky stretched endlessly over the red-roofed city, and the fresh, pine-scented breeze ruffled their clothes. Aside from the occasional white pigeon fluttering past the stone parapets, the area was completely devoid of disturbances. It was the absolute perfect location for a highly classified gacha session.
Venti stepped right up to the edge of the stone railing, leaning his weight against it as he gazed down at the bustling streets of his city. He breathed in the deep, comforting scent of the winds of freedom, that familiar, relaxed smile settling onto his youthful features.
He closed his eyes, his twin braids fluttering gently behind him as if he were listening to the secret messages carried by the passing gales. A moment later, he mentally activated his ten-pull.
A soft, unassuming light shimmered in the air before them. There were no devastating phenomena, no roaring thunder or splitting skies. Instead, a deeply refreshing aroma suddenly bloomed across the balcony. It was an intoxicating blend of crushed summer fruits, mellow aged grains, and something ancient and sweet that subtly permeated the very oxygen they breathed.
Venti's resulting haul was, quite frankly, astonishingly tailored to his identity as the wandering God of Freedom and Poetry, perfectly aligning with his most infamous preferences.
Hovering in the air were two distinct items, both radiating a brilliant, steady blue light.
The first was a massive, ancient-looking ceramic wine jar. Its surface was rough and weathered, exuding a heavy sense of time's long embrace. The mouth of the jar was tightly sealed with thick red cloth and twine, yet faint, visible wisps of an invigorating, spirit-enhancing aroma still managed to seep through the bindings, making the air feel thick and rich.
[Return to Origin Brew] (Blue Quality)
Description: A supreme spiritual wine crafted from various spirit plants and immortal fruits, supplemented by special spiritual springs, and aged for centuries using secret methods. Not only is the wine mellow and long-lasting with an endless aftertaste, but it also possesses powerful restorative effects, capable of rapidly replenishing expended energy and healing internal hidden injuries. Consistent, moderate consumption over time also has the miraculous effect of subtly cleansing the meridians, refining the marrow, and enhancing cultivation potential. Warning: The wine's strength is long-lasting with a powerful kick. Those with insufficient spiritual power should drink with caution, as it is incredibly easy to become heavily intoxicated.
Floating right beside the massive jar was an even more peculiar item. It was a slender, elegantly curved wine pot. The entire vessel was carved from flawless jade green material, a slight modification provided by the system, as stark white simply did not suit Venti's aesthetic. Enigmatic, swirling cloud patterns were deeply engraved into the jade body, and a faint, liquid glow circulated constantly around the narrow spout, giving the illusion that an entire miniature universe was sloshing around inside.
[Endless Wine Pot] (Blue Quality)
Description: Originating from a world closely related to red string destinies, it is a supreme magical treasure embodying the concepts of endlessness and replication. Firstly, the pot contains its own internal pocket dimension, continuously producing a basic quality, sweet and clear spiritual wine, truly achieving an inexhaustible supply. Secondly, this spiritual wine can not only be consumed daily, but if drunk immediately prior to battle, it can significantly enhance the user's overall strength and energy intensity by roughly thirty to forty percent for a short duration, making it an excellent tool for last-minute preparations and stacking buffs. Thirdly, the wine pot possesses the unique ability to record. It allows the user to additionally record up to five specific spiritual wine recipes and flavors of no more than green quality. Once recorded, as long as the wine pot is given sufficient conversion time, it can produce that specific type of spiritual wine almost infinitely.
Paimon threw her hands in the air, her eyes sparkling like Mora as she stared at the floating treasures. "Wow! Venti! You really struck it rich this time!"
She floated closer to the Return to Origin Brew, taking a tiny sniff of the air before immediately shaking her head, feeling a little dizzy just from the ambient fumes. She then looked at the Endless Wine Pot, her mind struggling to comprehend just how overpowered an infinite alcohol generator actually was.
Placing her hands on her hips, Paimon shot the bard a teasing grin. "Well, it looks like you won't have to worry about running out of Mora and having to 'borrow' Diluc's wine ever again! Congratulations, tone-deaf bard!"
Lumine crossed her arms, a warm smile spreading across her face as she nodded in agreement. "That really is an incredibly fitting haul for you, Venti."
With the acquisition of the Endless Wine Pot, the Anemo Archon's single greatest, most persistent economic crisis seemed to have been completely and permanently resolved.
Venti reached out, his fingers wrapping around the cool, smooth jade of the Endless Wine Pot. He pulled it from the air, cradling it gently against his chest. His face beamed with a genuinely bright, happy smile. Yet, deep within his clear, emerald-like eyes, a subtle, deep emotion flickered past, so fleeting and quiet that it was almost imperceptible against the bright backdrop of the afternoon sun.
"Hahaha, thank you for the congratulations!" Venti laughed, his voice bright and musical. "This really has solved a massive problem for me! But..."
His tone shifted slightly. The boisterous energy mellowed out, replaced by that unique, lighthearted laziness that somehow always carried an undercurrent of absolute sincerity. "You know, what I truly love isn't just the 'wine' itself, you see."
Venti lifted the jade pot, giving it a gentle, rhythmic shake. He closed his eyes, listening to the heavy, sloshing sound of the liquid inside. It echoed strangely, sounding less like a small container and more like an entire ocean trapped within the jade walls.
"For me, the absolute most wonderful taste in the world is often found when I'm sitting shoulder to shoulder with friends at Angel's Share, listening to Sister Rosaria deliver her occasional, razor-sharp remarks from the corner of the room."
He opened his eyes, looking out over the rooftops toward the tavern district. "It's watching the subtle, unspoken understanding pass between Captain Kaeya and Master Diluc across the bar. It's listening to the exhausted adventurers loudly brag about their daily hauls, or simply basking in the warm, golden glow of Mondstadt's sunset while raising a glass with everyone around me."
Venti turned back to Lumine and Paimon, his smile softening into something deeply affectionate. "That lively, chaotic, life-filled atmosphere... that is the absolute best accompaniment to any wine."
He tapped the side of the jade pot with his knuckle. "These spiritual wines, of course, taste absolutely superb. I can already tell. They are going to be absolutely perfect for entertaining distinguished guests, or for adding a bit of extra magic to the festivities during our special occasions."
He winked, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "But normally... hehe, of course, I still have to go down to Angel's Share, verbally spar with Master Diluc, and try my absolute hardest to 'earn' a glass of his personally mixed apple cider or his famous Dandelion Wine. Because that, my friends, is the most interesting, and the most authentic taste of Mondstadt!"
Lumine and Paimon listened to his quiet confession. They exchanged a knowing glance, a shared smile passing between them. Looking back at the windborne bard, they immediately understood exactly what he meant.
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