Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [117]

Jiang Bai didn’t think much of it, simply treating it as casual conversation.

After all, since Albedo already knew about him being an outsider, it was only fair that he offered up a few secrets of his own, right?

There’s a saying: sharing secrets helps build trust.

They were, after all, strangers at first—no foundation of trust between them. Some “secrets” like this were necessary to bring them closer.

The two of them walked side by side through the snow, their boots crunching against the frosted ground.

“So living among humans must cause you a lot of trouble, right?”

“It’s not so bad. I just don’t have anyone I can use as a reference, so I have to feel my way forward alone.”

Albedo spoke lightly, as if it were no big deal.

But only he knew the kind of confusion a special being would encounter in human society.

It wasn’t confusion about day-to-day living—it was the loneliness of being the only one of his kind in the world.

When he fell ill, he couldn’t tell if it was a simple sickness or if something in his body had malfunctioned, or if there was hidden danger he wasn’t aware of.

When his emotions grew heavy, he couldn’t tell whether he was simply feeling sad, or if some module inside him had gone awry and was issuing a warning through emotional signals.

Just as humans couldn’t comprehend a slime’s way of life, the people around him couldn’t offer him any meaningful reference—because their fundamental nature was different.
He could only study himself, trying to understand what each anomaly might mean.

“Do you have any family?”

“I do. My master—she created me. To me, she’s like a mother. And then there’s Aunt Alice, who brought me to settle in Mondstadt, and her daughter, Klee. They’re family to me.”

“Well, that’s good. Having family around makes it less lonely.”

“What about you? What’s it like, waking up from a long slumber and losing your memories?” Albedo was deeply interested in studying humans, precisely because he himself wasn’t one.

Even though the person before him wasn’t from Teyvat, he was still human.

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel like much,” Jiang Bai shrugged.

“I’m not hung up on the past, and I don’t have any obsessive desire to recover my memories. Life’s pretty good right now. I kill time hanging around town with the Director, wander here and there to see the sights, and when it’s time to work, I focus on my job…

“Sure, I’m a little curious why I ended up in Liyue in a state of suspended animation, but it’s just curiosity, not something I have to know.”

Albedo nodded. “You’ve got a good mindset. Life should be lived looking forward. Whatever happened in the past, the present moment is what matters most.”

“We’re almost there—just around this bend.”

“Oh?”

Jiang Bai’s curiosity was piqued. What kind of place could it be that would allow him to grasp the power of Anemo?

They rounded the bend—and a ruined relic appeared before him.

The ruin looked similar to the ones he had passed earlier: massive stone pillars, now broken in half, carved with familiar patterns. The walls had long since collapsed, leaving only scattered remnants.

The great stone road was cracked and worn, but still stretched ahead underfoot, leading straight into the heart of the ruins.

The original structure was too damaged to make out, but what remained was a giant circular ring upheld by stone columns.

The ring extended into the sky, as if once connecting to buildings built into the mountain. Those structures, however, had long since crumbled—at the end of the broken path stood a solitary, towering statue.

The statue emanated a pure blue light. From this distance, Jiang Bai couldn’t make out the details of its shape, but he could tell—it wasn’t a statue of the Geo Archon.

“See that Statue of The Seven?” Albedo asked.

“I see it. What about it?”

“That’s where we’re headed. Come, there’s a path leading up.”

As they walked, Albedo explained,

“The Statues of The Seven possess mysterious powers. They represent the lands governed by the gods, and they help stabilize the ley lines. My master once told me: the statues also have a special connection to the element of their corresponding god. I think… maybe you can tap into elemental power through one.”

Albedo wasn’t entirely sure whether his theory would work—it was just a guess.

“That’s the Anemo Archon’s statue, right?” Jiang Bai asked.

He knew Dragonspine fell within Mondstadt’s territory, and Mondstadt’s god was Barbatos, the Anemo Archon.

“That’s right,” Albedo nodded.

It was common knowledge for the people of Teyvat—but for an outsider like Jiang Bai, perhaps it wasn’t.

He might even be seeing an Anemo statue for the first time.

“What about these ruins? What were they originally?”

“They’re remnants of an ancient kingdom, left from long ago. We call this place the Entombed City — Ancient Palace.”

Jiang Bai walked up to a massive stone pillar and brushed the snow off with his hand, revealing the worn carvings beneath.

“I’ve seen these patterns on lots of abandoned structures along the way. Are these markings unique to this ancient kingdom?”

He cared about this detail—because once, seeing this same pattern, he had boldly theorized about its meaning to Zhongli himself.

“They’re not unique,” Albedo replied. “Patterns like these appear in many ancient ruins across Teyvat, not just here on Dragonspine.”

“Ah… so I was wrong after all…” Jiang Bai felt a wave of disappointment—and a creeping heat rise to his face.

Albedo’s words pretty much confirmed it: those patterns didn’t symbolize the followers of a god sealed beneath Guyun Stone Forest after all.

Which meant—everything Jiang Bai had proudly theorized to Zhongli that day was completely wrong!

What was Zhongli’s expression back then?

Silent. Unspeaking.

Jiang Bai could imagine it now: Zhongli must have been utterly speechless, too polite to even correct him.

Even thick-skinned as he was, Jiang Bai could barely stand it now.

“You guessed wrong? Guessed what?” Albedo asked, curious.

“I once saw ruins with these patterns on a few islands at Guyun Stone Forest. I thought they were the remnants of a god’s followers, ones sealed there long ago. But now… clearly that wasn’t the case at all.”

Jiang Bai rubbed his face, trying to cool his burning cheeks.

At the time, he’d felt so clever—like he’d seen through some hidden truth no one else noticed.

Now it was obvious: Zhongli must have known the real story all along, simply watching him perform.

Damn it!

I’m definitely going to figure out Zhongli’s real identity one day—and when I do, I’ll say it right to his face and get my revenge!

Albedo chuckled softly. “You didn’t have much information to work with. Guessing wrong is perfectly normal. From what I know, there are many differing theories among scholars about these ancient ruins scattered across Teyvat. There’s no single answer.”

“To explore the unknown, you have to dare to guess. The truth is often hidden in those bold guesses.”

—

T/N: omg honestly jiang bai x albedo PLEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE, have the rest of the people die on dragospine too so jiang bai can visit heh wait he can just teleport OMGGGG

This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!