Jiang Bai had initially wanted to say no.
But when he saw the look on Hu Tao’s face, his eyes shifted slyly, and he changed what he was going to say mid-sentence.
“Me? Mad at you, Director? How could I be mad? Being scared by you is an honor! If you’re willing to mess with me, it just means you care. And since you care so much… how could I possibly be upset?”
Hu Tao stared at him, eyes wide in shock.
She couldn’t help rubbing the goosebumps on her arms.
What the heck? Is Jiang Bai… kind of a masochist?
After a moment’s hesitation, she asked tentatively, “…Do you maybe have a thing for getting pushed around? Like, you like being bullied or something?”
Jiang Bai’s forehead twitched with dark lines.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing the nearest pillow, he chucked it at her head and scrambled out of the coffin-bed, snorting as he turned away in a huff.
Hu Tao blinked, stunned by the sudden pillow attack.
Seeing Jiang Bai sulking with his back to her, she pouted and muttered to herself:
Didn’t he just say he wouldn’t get mad? And now he’s mad the moment I ask a simple question? Ugh, stupid boys…
Puffing her cheeks, she stomped back into the tent, deciding to sleep and ignore him entirely.
Jiang Bai sat by the campfire, poking at the flames, glancing at her shadow behind the tent fabric with a quiet huff.
He didn’t even know why he was so annoyed.
He just… was.
Who the hell likes being bullied? Seriously…
—
Meanwhile, back on Dragonspine—
Diluc was resting inside a cave, having finally made it into the snowy mountains. A glossy-feathered owl perched on his shoulder, warming itself by the fire with him.
The blizzard had long since passed. Under the pale moonlight, the mountaintop in the distance was clearly visible.
The owl preened its wings, and Diluc offered it a bit of food.
With a flick of his shoulder, the owl took flight, soaring silently into the night sky toward the summit.
To humans, Dragonspine’s peak was steep and unforgiving—near impossible to climb.
But for birds, it wasn’t so daunting.
All it took was a few beats of their wings to rise above the clouds and gaze down at the untouched summit from above.
The owl circled in the sky, sharp eyes locking onto the flickering glow of a distant campfire near the summit.
After a while, it descended and landed on a dead tree near the firelight, watching quietly.
The camp was calm and still. Only the fire danced gently in the night.
Eventually, the owl returned to Diluc, settling onto his arm with a soft screech only he could understand.
Diluc’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“So… someone is up there.”
The canyon remained peaceful throughout the night.
Aside from the hilichurls drawn by their overly enthusiastic singing earlier, nothing else had disturbed them.
As morning broke, Hu Tao yawned and emerged from the tent, stretching contentedly.
“Mmm… slept great.”
She turned to greet Jiang Bai—only to see him slumped in a chair, head drooping as he dozed off.
Her mischief flared immediately. She tiptoed over and propped her chin in her hands, staring at his sleeping face.
Not bad. When he’s asleep and quiet, he actually looks kinda cute. Totally different from his usual self.
She poked his cheek—soft, warm, and springy.
But sleeping sitting up like that made for a light rest. The moment her finger touched him, Jiang Bai’s eyes snapped open.
He found himself face to face with Hu Tao.
She didn’t flinch—just grinned brightly.
“Morning!”
“Hmph.”
Jiang Bai snorted and turned away, refusing to acknowledge her.
Still sulking.
Hu Tao pursed her lips, then reached out with both hands and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to face her.
“Aww c’mon, still mad? I said I was sorry, didn’t I? Don’t be mad, okay~?”
She rubbed his cheeks in her palms, trying to coax a smile out of him.
Truth was, Jiang Bai hadn’t been mad for a while now. He was just curious to see what she’d do.
But seeing her this earnest… he couldn’t keep up the act. A grin broke through his pouty expression.
“There we go~ that’s the smile I wanted to see!”
“Let… go of me, Direc—tor…”
Jiang Bai’s words came out muffled, his voice leaking through squished cheeks.
Hu Tao was enjoying herself far too much to stop.
Seeing she wouldn’t let go, Jiang Bai decided to fight back—with her own move.
He grabbed her cheeks in return.
“Let. Go!”
“You first!”
“No, you first—!”
Their staredown turned into a tug-of-war.
Eventually, Hu Tao gave in and let go first, rubbing her sore cheeks and glaring at him.
How dare he grab a girl’s face like that!
Jiang Bai glared back indignantly.
What, and guys’ faces are fair game now?
The two of them stared each other down, tension rising again like lightning before a storm—
Until a loud rumble from Hu Tao’s stomach shattered the moment.
She rubbed her belly sheepishly.
“Okay okay, time for food. I’ll warm up some milk, freshen up, and then we can hit the road.”
Jiang Bai poured milk into a pot to heat, then pulled out towels and toothbrushes.
There wasn’t any water source nearby, but thankfully their storage pouches had water stocked for emergencies.
After washing up, they each drank a steaming mug of milk and nibbled on a few sweet cakes, spirits fully restored.
“Alright, let’s move!”
Once they crossed the canyon, the land opened up again.
From the hilltop, they could see the distant silhouette of Mondstadt—and just outside it, the unmistakable figure of a massive tree.
“Haven’t seen that oak in a while,” Hu Tao said wistfully, eyes fixed on the great tree.
The tree in Windrise was the biggest she’d ever seen—larger even than the one near Wangshu Inn.
And in both size and majesty, it easily dwarfed the dragon-shaped one at Nantianmen.
She’d heard Sumeru had even more colossal trees, with its capital, Sumeru City, built directly into the canopy of one.
But she hadn’t been there herself—so she’d never seen it with her own eyes.
“That tree’s got some serious presence.”
The terrain around the Windrise oak was flat and open. With no other large trees nearby, it stood out like a monument in the middle of the fields.
“They say the Anemo Archon himself planted it.”
“Really?”
“Well, that’s what they say.” Hu Tao shrugged.
She’d only ever heard the story from others. Whether or not it was true—who could say?
Liyue had plenty of legends about the Geo Archon too—stories like “painting the dragon’s eye”—but no one knew if any of them were real either.
“C’mon, let’s fly over.”
Hu Tao spread her glider and leapt into the air, soaring toward the tree.
Beneath the spreading canopy of the ancient oak, a bard in green rested against the trunk. Fingers lightly brushing the strings of his lyre, he sang an old, forgotten tune—his voice carried on the dappled wind that drifted through the leaves.
—
T/N: VENTI AUUUUUUGH
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!
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