Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [49]

After finishing lunch, the two bid farewell to Xiao.

There was still a long way to go before they reached Huaguang Forest. If they delayed any longer, night would fall before they arrived.

“Bye-bye, see you next time.”

Xiao watched as the two leaped off the rooftop, gliding away with their wind gliders until they disappeared into the distance.

A hand brushed across his face, and a fearsome Yaksha mask appeared. Moments later, his figure slowly faded into nothingness.

—

Liyue Harbor was bustling as always, people weaving through the streets in an endless tide.

Having just finished listening to an opera, Zhongli wandered through the city. The cries of street vendors filled the air, a lively chorus against the backdrop of the port.

He walked without any particular destination, taking slow, unhurried steps.

This was one of his small pleasures—strolling through the streets of Liyue, observing every tree, every stone, every rooftop that had grown and changed over the years.

A gentle breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it the aroma of freshly cooked food.

His gaze drifted across the harbor, taking in the brick-paved roads, the curved rooftops, the elegant eaves. Every detail of this city had flourished under his watchful eye.

Millennia had passed, and through it all, he had guarded this city, this nation.

He had witnessed the birth of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and watched its legacy continue across generations.

He had seen the Liyue Qixing rise and fall, their ranks shifting over time.

He had watched as once-familiar things faded from memory, as old relics eroded and turned to dust.

He had seen countless friends come and go, their presence erased by the relentless passage of time.

The weight of all those years pressed upon him, heavier with each passing moment.

Would this continue indefinitely?

What did the future hold?

Lately, whenever he walked through Liyue Harbor, these questions surfaced in his mind.

Perhaps it was the influence of an outsider.

Perhaps it was the resurgence of old memories.

Or perhaps… he was simply feeling tired.

He continued walking, blending into the crowd yet remaining apart from it, a presence both within and beyond the city’s pulse.

Then, suddenly—

He sensed a familiar gaze.

A figure stood in the shadows of a quiet alleyway, their eyes meeting his.

Zhongli chuckled softly, the furrow in his brow easing as he stepped forward.

“Lord Rex Lapis.” Xiao lowered his head in respect.

“You rarely come to Liyue Harbor. Were you looking for me?” Zhongli asked, seeing through his intentions at a glance.

This child never entered the city unless he had a reason.

“…Yes.” Xiao nodded lightly. He had questions, and only the Geo Lord could answer them.

“Shall we take a walk through the harbor together?”

“No. Crowded places don’t suit me,” Xiao declined with a faint shake of his head.

The karmic energy he carried was harmful to ordinary mortals. They could not come into contact with it.

“With me here, there’s no need for concern.”

Zhongli raised a hand, forming a barrier around them, separating them from the surrounding world.

“It has been a long time since you last set foot in Liyue Harbor. Walk with me.”

“…Alright.”

One tall, one short—their figures moved through the streets, unseen by those around them.

They passed through lively alleyways, brushing shoulders with pedestrians who never noticed their presence.

“The Rite of Descension should be approaching soon,” Xiao murmured, asking an unrelated question.

He rarely concerned himself with mortal affairs, but each year, during the Rite, the Geo Lord would appear and guide Liyue’s course for the coming year.

It had been this way for thousands of years.

“Yes. It is one month away.”

This year, the one overseeing the ceremony would be Yuheng, Keqing.

Zhongli did not ask what was troubling Xiao. Instead, they simply walked, observing the city together.

Since the end of the Archon War, Liyue had grown more prosperous, and its people had flourished. None of this would have been possible without the deity beside him.

But after millennia, countless upon countless years…

Had this god ever felt weary?

As they reached Yujing Terrace, overlooking the harbor from above, Xiao finally voiced the question that had been weighing on his mind.

“Do you ever grow tired, my lord?”

Zhongli paused, momentarily surprised.

Xiao was not the type to ask such things.

“What brings this question to mind?”

“I encountered Hu Tao and Jiang Bai today,” Xiao admitted. He did not attempt to conceal it and simply recounted their meeting.

“They asked me if you ever felt tired.” He lifted his gaze, studying Zhongli’s face.

That face had changed countless times over the millennia—sometimes an old man, sometimes a child, sometimes a woman, sometimes a man.

He had taken on countless forms, walked through Liyue in countless ways.

Yet through it all, his heart remained steadfast, unshaken like the mountains themselves.

Zhongli did not answer immediately. Instead, he looked down upon Liyue Harbor.

Once, the people of Liyue did not live here.

They had resided in Mt. Tianheng, in Guili Plains, and even farther lands.

When calamity struck, they migrated to the harbor.

They mined, smelted, traded, farmed.

Generation after generation, they built and expanded, forging the thriving Liyue of today.

A long silence stretched between them before Zhongli finally spoke.

“That is a question I, too, seek an answer to.”

He had guarded Liyue for so long.

Was he tired?

Would he continue to protect it for another thousand years?

Even he did not yet know.

“For now, let us set that question aside. There is something they said that I believe is true.”

Zhongli reached out, placing a hand atop Xiao’s head.

A warm touch spread from the crown of his head, and Xiao stiffened, his pupils widening slightly. A faint blush crept across his face.

The large hand gently ruffled his hair, like soothing an anxious, restless creature.

“Only through rest can one face the next battle at their best.”

“You are weary. You need to rest.”

Xiao pressed his lips together tightly, the strands of his hair softening under Zhongli’s touch. The tips of his ears burned red.

“Liyue is no longer what it once was. Perhaps, in the near future, I will have my answer.”

“You are the last Yaksha—I do not wish for you to be trapped in endless battle.”

Zhongli’s voice was deep and distant, echoing like chimes of stone resounding through the mountains, carrying both the weight of the earth and the wisdom of time.

Many had once followed him.

Many had long since faded into history.

And now, those he still recognized were growing fewer and fewer.

“…Mm.” Xiao let out a soft sound of acknowledgment. Even after Zhongli’s hand had withdrawn, the redness in his ears remained.

But his eyes held a trace of confusion.

If Liyue lost its god… what would become of it?

And what would become of him?

Perhaps, as they had said, he should give this new Liyue the chance to grow strong on its own—to face the crises of the future.

But if he were to step back…

Then what was left for him?

Zhongli, seeing his uncertainty, ruffled his hair again.

“If you find yourself with nothing to do, spend more time with the young ones. Their thoughts and perspectives are quite interesting.”

“Some things must be passed on… The Yaksha should not be forgotten.”

“…Mm.”

The blush on Xiao’s face finally faded, but his ears remained red, as if they might start dripping blood at any moment.

“You may also come find me.”

“…Mm!”

—

T/N: aww cute bonding moment between father/son

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!