Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [335]

The necklace was close to blue—so similar to the ice that, through so many layers, it had been impossible to notice.

Jiang Bai pulled it free, and only then did its true form come into view.

A four-pointed star pendant hung at the end, radiating a pure, deep-blue glow. The chain was fashioned from some unknown crystal—and it had already snapped.

Jiang Bai held it in his hand and searched his mind, but couldn’t dredge up a single memory related to it.

It didn’t really feel like it belonged to him.

For one thing, the design was delicate—far too dainty for a grown man like him.

He handed the necklace to Albedo, hoping Albedo could figure something out.

After studying it for a while, Albedo spoke in surprise.

“The energy fluctuations on this are… a bit like the Skyfrost Nail. Similar, but not the same.”

From Albedo’s research, the Skyfrost Nail’s energy carried properties of purification and restoration.

The light this necklace gave off also had a purifying quality.

“It shouldn’t be mine.” Jiang Bai shook his head, signaling he knew nothing.

Even so, Albedo felt that even if it didn’t belong to Jiang Bai, it had to be connected to him somehow.

“If it’s convenient, let me borrow it for research for a while.”

“Go ahead.”

At this point, they could basically confirm why these Hilichurls were different from the ones outside: the necklace.

The energy it emitted had, little by little, either raised—or restored—a measure of their intelligence.

The question was what would happen after the necklace was taken away.

Normally, it shouldn’t have too big an effect. Once intelligence had been raised, it wouldn’t just vanish overnight.

But the next generation of the tribe might not be as sharp.

Nearby, the old Samachurl watched them. Holding its staff high, it danced as if performing a ritual.

Jiang Bai looked at the aged shaman. “By the way—this Samachurl keeps calling me Unu. That really confuses me.”

Albedo glanced at it too. “If I remember right, that’s the word they use for a god.”

“Yeah.”

Hilichurlian simply didn’t have enough words. It could express too little. Even if Jiang Bai wanted to ask, he didn’t have the vocabulary to form the question.

The old Samachurl heard Unu on their lips and immediately lifted its staff, chanting, “Unu! Unu!”

Jiang Bai pressed a hand to his forehead, having no idea how to explain that he wasn’t its god.

“Logically speaking,” Albedo said, resting his chin on one hand, equally puzzled, “Hilichurls shouldn’t venerate a human as their god.”

As far as current scholarship went, aside from the Eclipse tribe’s belief in the Eclipse, no one had determined what Hilichurls actually worshiped. All anyone knew was that they called their god “Unu.”

The problem was what “Unu” truly meant—was it a specific title for a particular deity, or did they use the word for anything they worshiped?

Judging from this old Samachurl’s attitude… it seemed more like the latter.

Albedo proposed the most plausible explanation he could think of.

“Is it possible you were frozen here for so long that these Hilichurls have been seeing you since they were born? They might have subconsciously taken you as a symbol—a totem—and begun worshiping you.”

After all, a person trapped in ice was different from a living person. With a barrier of ice between them, their hostility toward humans would be greatly reduced. And if they saw him every day, it wouldn’t be strange for their imaginations to run wild—until they decided he must be some kind of god.

“But if that’s the case,” Jiang Bai said, “why did they still recognize me after I woke up?”

That had been his first thought too—but there were too many holes.

Seeing someone through ice wasn’t the same as seeing them face-to-face. Ice refracted light; what you perceived through it wouldn’t perfectly match what was actually sealed inside.

And he hadn’t necessarily been frozen near the surface. Through thick ice, he might’ve looked distorted—maybe even like some kind of monster.

Besides, when Xiao Shi first led him into the cave, not every Hilichurl had wanted him there. Some had openly tried to attack him, only stopping because the old Samachurl had intervened.

So recognizing him that way didn’t feel realistic at all.

“Then could it be scent?” Albedo offered. “They recognized your… aura?”

“Aura? That seems unlikely…” Jiang Bai frowned.

He knew what his minimal-respiration state was like—his last means of self-rescue. Heartbeat and blood flow both halted. How could there be any “aura” to speak of?

“Then perhaps they sensed your magnetic field,” Albedo said, “or rather—your energy field.”

Everyone had a magnetic field. It was invisible and hard to detect, but it existed.

No one knew whether Hilichurls had the ability to distinguish such fields, but Albedo suspected they did.

After all, Hilichurls wore masks. Individually, the differences between them weren’t that obvious. Without some special way to tell each other apart, how would they even know who was who?

“Then let’s go with that for now…”

Jiang Bai looked back at the ice wall. It didn’t connect to anywhere. After digging this deep, he could already see solid rock behind it.

Which meant there was a good chance the necklace had indeed been frozen together with him.

But then… where had it come from in the first place?

…

In an unknown ancient palace, a Cryo Abyss Herald tore open a rift in space and stepped through.

He looked at the figure before him and bowed his head slightly.

“Her Highness the Princess.”

Lumine lifted her gaze. “What is it?”

“Teyvat has gained another Descender.”

Lumine’s brows knit. “What?”

Outsiders were of immense significance to Teyvat. The First Descender, Phanes, had created humanity. After that, every Descender had stirred up upheaval in their wake.

And now—when the Heavenly Principles were at their weakest—she could not allow more variables to appear.

“Who is it? Where did they come from? When did they appear?”

“It isn’t like your own summoning,” the Abyss Herald replied. “He crossed the boundary directly and entered Teyvat. He’s likely been here for quite some time, but remained dormant until recently. We only discovered him once he began to act.”

The Abyss Herald raised his eyes briefly. “He has also come into contact with your blood relative. This outsider’s presence can be seen in Mondstadt’s dragon crisis.”

Lumine searched her memories rapidly, trying to find such a person. But parts of her recollection were strangely blurred, as though something had deliberately covered them. She found no one who matched.

She stared at the Abyss Herald. “What is his stance?”

“This subordinate does not know. But judging from his actions, he may be inclined toward the Seven.”

A mocking smile flickered across Lumine’s face. “Heh. The Seven…”

She looked into the distant darkness. The blackness seemed to hide something dreadful—or nothing at all.

And she couldn’t help thinking of her brother. Her voice sank to a murmur.

“Brother… when you finish your journey… will you understand me?”

—

T/N: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LUMINEXJIANG BAI THEORYYYYY

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!