Seeing Jiang Bai unresponsive, Hu Tao grew even more worried. She waved her hand in front of his eyes—still no reaction. She then lifted his eyelids, trying to see if he would respond.
But even after all that, Jiang Bai just lay there motionless, his eyes not even flickering.
Hu Tao pressed her hand against his forehead; his skin was shockingly cold.
“Why are you so cold?”
Then she noticed his clothes—they were soaked through, as if he’d been pulled from water.
What on earth happened?
With him still showing no reaction, Hu Tao quickly undid his coat, wanting to check if he’d been injured somehow.
Just as she’d completely stripped off his shirt and was about to go for his pants, Jiang Bai’s gaze finally regained a hint of awareness.
His eyes slowly moved, following Hu Tao.
“Director…” Jiang Bai’s weak voice came out faintly.
“Huh?”
His voice was so soft that Hu Tao couldn’t hear clearly. She leaned close, straining to catch his words.
But what she heard made her doubt her own ears.
“Director… could you hug me… please?”
At that request, Hu Tao’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing red.
Why would he suddenly ask something like that at a time like this?
She wanted to refuse instinctively, but seeing Jiang Bai look so vulnerable—as if he’d endured something terrible—she couldn’t find the heart to say no.
“Just… just a quick one.”
Blushing, she propped Jiang Bai up and gently embraced him.
Feeling the warmth of Hu Tao’s body, Jiang Bai, who had previously felt utterly drained, suddenly found a burst of energy. He quickly tightened his arms around her, holding on desperately, as if afraid she’d vanish again.
Resting his head on her shoulder, he spoke quietly, a slight tremble in his voice. “Director… you suddenly disappeared. It scared me to death…”
For Hu Tao, perhaps little time had passed, but for Jiang Bai, every second had been agonizing.
Especially after those memories had resurfaced…
It felt like he’d returned to that dark, suffocating place—no light, no hope, just endless hordes of monsters pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe…
Hu Tao gently patted his back, comforting him like soothing a frightened animal. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here.”
After a long moment, Jiang Bai finally loosened his grip.
Perhaps realizing what he’d done, his ears flushed red, eyes darting nervously, too embarrassed to look at her.
Seeing him finally calm down, Hu Tao gently asked, “We were walking along fine, and suddenly you vanished. What exactly happened?”
“You disappeared first, and I panicked and started searching everywhere… then suddenly, a voice appeared and said some weird, cryptic stuff to me…”
“And that’s what made you like this?”
Hu Tao couldn’t fathom what could have been said to reduce him to such a state.
He’d looked so lifeless—it was frightening.
Jiang Bai shook his head slightly. “I… regained some of my memories.”
“Isn’t regaining memories a good thing? Or… were they unhappy ones?”
Hu Tao had always been curious about Jiang Bai’s past—why he’d faked his death, and why he’d appeared in the river. Still, she wasn’t the type to pry. If the memories were painful, perhaps it was best not to bring them up.
“I guess…” Jiang Bai nodded softly, clearly unwilling to say more about it.
Seeing his reluctance, Hu Tao didn’t press further. Instead, she simply patted his shoulder.
“No matter what happened in the past, it’s behind you now. What’s important is living your best life now. You’re Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s rising star—you can’t fall apart on us.”
Seeing Hu Tao sincerely comforting him, Jiang Bai finally managed a faint smile.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s all in the past now.”
“Director…”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad I met you.”
“If that’s how you feel, then cheer up. We still need to find an exit!”
The mysterious space seemed to have existed specifically for Jiang Bai. Not long after he’d recovered his memories, the heavy fog gradually dispersed, and a rift appeared before them.
Without hesitation, Jiang Bai grabbed Hu Tao’s hand and walked into the rift.
It felt like stepping through some mysterious tunnel. When Jiang Bai opened his eyes again, bright sunlight greeted him.
Warm sunlight fell gently upon them, carrying the refreshing scent of grass. Small birds fluttered past in the clear blue sky. After spending so long underground, this lively scenery instantly made Jiang Bai feel alive again.
“This feels great!” Hu Tao flopped directly onto the grass, arms and legs outstretched, soaking up the sunshine.
Jiang Bai followed suit, lying beside her, the two of them leaving twin imprints in the grass.
“By the way, what exactly happened in Liyue Harbor after I left?” Hu Tao asked.
“The Fatui broke the seal at Guyun Stone Forest and released the ancient god sealed beneath it…”
“What happened then? Was Liyue Harbor alright?”
“It’s fine. Ningguang dropped the Jade Chamber onto it, sinking it back into the sea.”
“Ningguang actually sacrificed the Jade Chamber?” Hu Tao clicked her tongue, deeply impressed.
“Afterward, the Adepti returned to the mountains, leaving Liyue Harbor’s governance completely in Ningguang’s hands. Then came the biggest Rite of Parting in history—perfectly executed.”
“It’s such a pity I missed it,” Hu Tao sighed.
She’d originally planned to host the Rite of Parting alongside Zhongli, but things hadn’t gone according to plan.
“If you’re feeling regretful, we can always hold a smaller version at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor,” Jiang Bai suggested.
Jiang Bai didn’t tell Hu Tao about Zhongli’s true identity.
Because Zhongli had specifically asked him not to.
Hu Tao still believed Zhongli was just an Adeptus; if she found out Rex Lapis himself was working as her consultant, she’d probably become unbearably smug.
Besides, keeping Zhongli’s identity secret made their interactions much smoother.
If Hu Tao knew Zhongli was Rex Lapis, she’d inevitably feel awkward bossing him around. Better she remained blissfully unaware so she could comfortably assign tasks to the old man.
“No need. It’d be a waste of time and money,” Hu Tao refused decisively.
The Rite of Parting was already properly held once—doing it again would just feel redundant.
The intention mattered most. Even paying respects privately at a Statue of The Seven would be meaningful enough.
“By the way, where exactly are we?” Jiang Bai finally sat up, scanning their surroundings, still a bit disoriented.
Hu Tao, however, had recognized their location immediately. “We’re on a hill east of Wuwang Hill. Down there in the lake lives an Oceanid.”
“Oh, so it’s here…”
“We should head back soon. Director, let’s go to Bubu Pharmacy first to make sure your wounds are healing properly.”
“Okay.”
Hu Tao nodded, and they both spread their Wind Gliders, flying down toward the foot of the hill.
After they left, Dainsleif stepped silently out from a rift, watching Jiang Bai’s retreating figure from afar.
—
T/N: OMGGG IS THE LUMINE X JIANG BAI ACTUALLY CANON??? OUGGHHGHG
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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