Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [122]

He had always thought that gods were the most powerful beings in this world—only now did he realize that even above the gods, there were greater forces.

“So what exactly is Celestia?”

“No one knows. Many have attempted to reach it in the past… but none ever returned,” Albedo replied with a shake of his head. Celestia belonged to the highest echelons of existence in this world—far beyond what could be easily approached.

“But… why would dropping a giant nail from the sky turn this entire place into a frozen wasteland?”

Jiang Bai still couldn’t wrap his head around it. At most, he thought, it should’ve just left behind a crater—how could it change the entire climate?

Cartis had once puzzled over the same thing. After poring over countless books and consulting many others, he finally found an answer.

“Because of the ley lines.”

In Teyvat, ley lines were of critical importance—deeply entwined with the lives of its people.

“This place was once lush and green thanks to the protection of the ley line tree. But when that nail fell from the sky, it destroyed the tree—disrupting the flow of ley energy. Without it, the region’s natural balance collapsed, and it turned into a land of eternal snow and frost.”

“Wait… what exactly is the relationship between a ley line tree and the ley lines themselves?”

Jiang Bai was starting to get confused by all the terms.

Ley lines were supposed to be some kind of conceptual network, right? So what was this tree? His head was spinning from the terminology.

“I can explain,” Albedo offered, clearly more familiar with these matters.

“In the depths of Teyvat, there is an enormous tree that runs through the very core of the world. It’s so massive that even its branches that reach the surface appear as ancient trees to us. The roots of this tree interconnect beneath the ground—and the channels formed by this root network are what we call ley lines.”

In short, the ley lines were a world-spanning web formed by the roots of this colossal world-tree, acting as conduits for elemental energy.

“Tree roots… network… a web of concepts…” Jiang Bai murmured the words to himself.

Whenever he activated a ley line anchor, he could feel something vast and boundless beneath him—an enormous system connecting everything.

Now, it seemed clear: that network was formed by the branches of the ley line tree.

Albedo’s explanation was much easier to understand than Zhongli’s earlier, more abstract one.

If that was the case, then ley line anchors were likely marked nodes within that network—possibly even serving to stabilize it.

And since ley lines served as conduits for elemental flow, the destruction of the ley line tree in this region caused massive elemental imbalance. Cryo energy overtook the highlands, turning this place into an icy tomb.

“It’s said that the earth remembers everything,” Albedo added. “Everything that has ever happened above or below ground in Teyvat is recorded within the ley lines.”

“That’s… incredible.” Jiang Bai couldn’t help but marvel.

If the ley lines really recorded everything, maybe—just maybe—he could find traces of his past there.

But how would he even access that kind of information?

He thought about it for a while, then gave up. It was far beyond his understanding. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how that would be done.

Cartis sighed softly.

He had once been nothing more than an ordinary adventurer. Ley lines, white trees, ancient history—he hadn’t known anything about them. Not even the basic concepts.

Back then, he’d wandered into dangerous places simply to hunt for treasure—just so he could sell it and buy himself more drinks.

He’d never started a family; his relatives were long gone. He’d crossed the golden sands of endless deserts, ventured through dense rainforests beneath towering trees, and battled storms and tides across distant seas. But still, something had always felt missing.

It wasn’t until he stumbled across a journal in a cave—left behind by a predecessor—that he finally understood what it was.

He’d merely passed through those places like a tourist, never truly trying to understand them. He had called himself an “excellent adventurer,” but when asked what he’d learned about those lands—he had nothing to say.

Because he wasn’t really adventuring. He was just chasing treasure.

And he didn’t even particularly like treasure. Hunting for it gave him something to do—something to brag about in taverns.

But here, on this mountain, when he’d reached a dead end with nowhere left to go—he’d finally found what he loved.

He wanted to know the past. To uncover lost history. To piece together stories no scholar had ever written down.

The work was dry and tedious—but when scattered bits of information began to connect, when the truth slowly came to light… the excitement and joy he felt far surpassed any worldly pleasure.

Without realizing it, snow had begun to fall again. The flakes drifted gently from the sky, passing through his incorporeal form and settling on the ground, merging with the frost and ice.

“I spent half my life on this mountain. It’s become my second home. In searching for its past, I felt like I had returned to that ancient kingdom—like I was one of its forgotten people.”

His voice carried a deep weariness.

He reached out, as if trying to touch the falling snow. But he no longer belonged to this world—his hand passed through it all.

“I’ll never know why the sky brought down punishment on this place… but knowing what I do now, I can’t just act like none of it ever happened.”

“Even if the kingdom is long gone—no descendants, no legacy—I still want to do something for it. Even if… I can’t change anything at all.”

Jiang Bai and Albedo didn’t speak. They just listened, quietly.

“…You might think I’m being foolish, chasing a dream,” Cartis said with a strained smile. “But I really, really want to pull that nail out of the ground.”

But he was already dead.

He had died trying to get close to it.

The snowflakes fell like moths to flame, disappearing the instant they touched the fire—futile, hopeless.

And yet, more kept coming—one after another, hurling themselves into the blaze. As if their tiny, frozen wings could smother its heat.

Jiang Bai tossed another piece of wood onto the fire, steadying its dimming flame.

“…It won’t be easy.”

In fact, he had no idea how to even begin.

Cartis gave him a powerless smile. “I know. But it has to start with someone trying, right?”

He hadn’t said no. And that alone was enough reason to hope.

Cartis no longer had a body—if this outlandish dream were ever to be realized, it would have to be through the living.

The cold wind howled in the distance, muffled by the mountain rocks. The fire crackled in the silence. No one spoke.

Albedo, chin resting in hand, remained deep in thought—the same pose he had taken the moment he first saw Cartis.

Now, he turned to Jiang Bai, eyes quietly awaiting his response.

Jiang Bai held the journal in his hands, flipping through it.

Eventually, he reached the final page.

—

T/N: woah… IS THAT ACTUALLY LORE? A GIANT TRE?EE?E

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!