When Bai Luo was dragged out, he looked half-dead.
If he was pretending before, now it was definitely real.
No anesthetic—seriously, no anesthetic! The blood spurted higher than when he stabbed himself. It was like a high-pressure water jet. If not for Qiqi using her adeptus arts to keep him alive, he probably would've bled out on the spot.
Never mess with a medical professional.
That said, his condition had indeed stabilized. The once-terrifying wound was now stitched up, and all he needed was rest to recover.
This made Bai Luo miss the Traveler's system. A few Sweet Madame dishes and a Teyvat Fried Egg, and you'd be good as new. Far better than his lousy system, which didn't even provide a single healing potion. So stingy it could drive someone mad.
After Baizhu finished stitching and dressing Bai Luo's wound, he sent the Seventh Company of the Fatui soldiers away.
Bai Luo's condition was too delicate to leave him in the care of a bunch of rough, clumsy soldiers. Baizhu knew exactly how much force he'd used with the sutures. If Bai Luo died outside, it would spell big trouble.
So Baizhu arranged for Bai Luo to stay in a room at Bubu Pharmacy and decided to monitor him personally.
To be fair, Baizhu did have a doctor's compassion.
He not only gave Bai Luo the best room but personally applied herbal compresses without letting anyone else handle it.
After a simple application of herbal medicine, Bai Luo could more or less get out of bed.
And so, under the perpetually drizzling eaves, another sorrowful figure joined the scene.
One big, one small—they both sat on the doorstep, holding a split-in-half and shrunken Anemo Slime, gloomily watching the rain.
One was bored.
The other was in pain.
When the rain stopped, the two stared at each other, as if playing a game where the first to blink would lose.
Bai Luo's eyes began to sting.
Unlike Qiqi, he couldn't keep his eyes open for long. Before he knew it, his vision blurred with soreness.
In the instant he blinked, two fingers came rapidly into view.
"Ow—!"
As Bai Luo clutched his eye and rolled on the ground, having narrowly avoided scaring the Anemo Slime into flying off, Qiqi watched and couldn't help but sigh.
"It really hurts, doesn't it?"
"..."
By evening, Tartaglia stopped by.
However, the many weapons he usually carried with him were all gone. The only one left was the bow that Bai Luo recognized all too well: Viridescent Hunt.
"Where are your weapons?" Bai Luo asked curiously as he sipped the medicinal porridge Baizhu had specially prepared for him.
In Bai Luo's memory, Tartaglia was a master of all weapons in Teyvat and always had an arsenal hidden on him. What happened today?
Did he finally wise up?
"…Take a guess."
With the Viridescent Hunt floating behind him, Tartaglia's resentment was practically palpable. If Bai Luo weren't currently a patient, he'd have already shot him in the head.
Why did he have to open his big mouth and make that kind of oath?
"Do you think I'll guess or not?" Bai Luo teased.
"I guess you'll guess."
"You guessed wrong."
"..."
Tartaglia sighed lightly. If Bai Luo put even half the energy he used for bantering into something else, would he still have to endure sleepless nights, sulking like a scorned wife?
"Enough of this nonsense. I came to ask you about something."
After ensuring the room was surrounded by his own Fatui men, Tartaglia lowered his voice.
"Go ahead."
Bai Luo dropped his playful expression and turned serious. Tartaglia usually acted like this when he had something important to discuss, not just to pick a fight.
"That Zhongli—what's his story?"
Liyue people were notoriously hard to bribe, especially those in special organizations like the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Most joined out of genuine respect for the deceased. Yet, after persistent efforts, Tartaglia finally managed to pry some information loose.
Apparently, Zhongli was brought into the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor by their boss, Hu Tao. His background, birthplace, and even age were a complete mystery—basically a textbook case of a "man of three no's."
Despite this, Zhongli's knowledge of funeral rites rivaled, if not surpassed, that of previous parlor directors. He even knew things that others, including Hu Tao, had never heard of—like the mystical practice of celestial burials.
Thanks to this expertise, Zhongli quickly gained the respect of Wangsheng's older generation, securing his position in the organization.
Some wary individuals had even reported the matter to Tianquan Ningguang. However, she didn't seem concerned or surprised, suggesting she knew exactly who Zhongli was.
This enigmatic figure had, therefore, been accepted by everyone.
"What do you want with him?" Bai Luo asked, his expression turning a bit odd.
You've already got me as a headache, and now you want to add the Geo Archon to the mix? Bai Luo thought. Good luck with that—I hope your wallet and your spine are ready for the strain.
"He attacked our Fatui soldiers. Do you think I'd just let that slide?" Tartaglia declared, slapping the table for emphasis.
In truth, Tartaglia was simply curious. How had Zhongli managed to stab Bai Luo three times so precisely, even though Bai Luo could turn invisible? For Tartaglia, challenging strong opponents and enjoying the thrill of combat had always been his goal.
"You're so good to me," Bai Luo said sarcastically, touched by Tartaglia's "concern." He was already planning on making Tartaglia foot the bill the next time—and the time after that too.
"But you're asking the wrong guy. I don't know much about him either."
Bai Luo couldn't possibly tell Tartaglia the truth about Zhongli. Not because he was worried about Zhongli—he was more concerned about Tartaglia. Zhongli might appear retired, but his divine power was still intact. If Tartaglia tried to take his Gnosis, he'd probably meet a fate worse than Signora's.
At least Signora got to stick around as a weekly boss. If Tartaglia pushed his luck, he'd end up at Guyun Stone Forest with the archon residues.
And maybe, a year later, some blond kid and his floating "emergency food" would show up, tossing salt shakers around Zhongli.
Tsk tsk…salt-baked duck.
As for the Golden House...
Wait a second—what if I became the Golden House boss?
What would I drop? Five-star Ausbilder artifacts? Old weapon parts? Steel cables? A mini Collei?
The thought sent shivers down Bai Luo's spine.
"But the Seventh Company said you two knew each other," Tartaglia pressed.
"They must have misunderstood," Bai Luo replied smoothly. "We bumped into each other at Wuwang Hill after our people disrupted that old man Zhou's business. Zhongli was about to make a move, so I took responsibility."
The explanation was flawless. They had disrupted business, and Zhongli had shown signs of intervening.
"And he stabbed you three times for it?"
"Yeah…though I got him twice in return—same spot, both times."
Tartaglia winced. Bai Luo was even more ruthless than Zhongli, it seemed. No wonder Zhongli was nowhere to be found today—probably licking his wounds in some hidden corner. If Bai Luo's strikes were anything like usual, Zhongli's injuries were likely worse.
Having learned enough, Tartaglia didn't linger. He still needed to investigate Zhongli further.
But as he was leaving, Bai Luo called out to him.
"Hey, did you bring the stuff I asked for?"
"Of course. Top-quality goods."
Tartaglia smiled faintly and gestured to his men, who hauled in five large crates.
<+>
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