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ArabicGenshin Impact: A Guide to the Unofficial History of Teyvat — Chapter 10
Chapter 10: Ridiculous!
[…The two were inseparable, complementing each other, and were even a pair of lovers with hearts as one…]
Shopkeeper Sun gasped. The thin sheets of paper in his hands suddenly felt heavier than a slab of pure Cor Lapis.
[…”Mora” could not bear to see his beloved “Kex” vanish… he chose self-sacrifice, merging his divine soul into the body of “Kex”…]
His fingers began to tremble. The crisp edges of the manuscript rustled against his sweating palms.
[…What “Morax” could do… was forge and transform ordinary rocks, simulating “Mora” to circulate in the world… In other words, the vast majority of “Mora” currently circulating on the Teyvat continent is not true “divine gold,” but rather “counterfeit” rock currency created by Morax!…]
“Pfft—cough, cough, cough!”
Sun slammed a hand over his mouth. A violent, world-shaking cough tore through his lungs. His face flushed a brilliant, dangerous shade of crimson, the edges of his vision spotting with black as he nearly hacked up his own windpipe.
‘Mora and Kex… were two people? And a couple? Mora eventually merged with Kex?! Because Mora died, he couldn’t create Mora currency anymore? Most of the current Mora is just imitation stone?!’
His worldview shattered into a million jagged pieces. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, sliding down his temples to drip onto the wooden counter.
He wasn’t reading a mere fictional manuscript. He was holding a catastrophic document capable of annihilating the entire economic foundation of Teyvat.
This was no longer unofficial history. This was taking a pickaxe to the very bedrock of Liyue Harbor. Disseminate with caution? If a single page of this leaked to the public, the entirety of the seven nations would plunge into a catastrophic currency crisis by sunrise.
Trembling violently, he snatched up a nearby teacup and tipped it back. The lukewarm, bitter tea flooded his throat, barely suppressing the violent itch in his chest and the stormy terror churning in his mind.
He panted heavily. His bloodshot eyes scanned the margins of the manuscript, catching on the author’s bizarre disclaimers. Phrases like a certain consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor who wishes to remain anonymous and forced to drink fire-water by a Snezhnayan Harbinger jumped out at him.
His scalp crawled.
This author had a death wish. That had to be a direct reference to Mr. Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. How did a refined funeral consultant and the ruthless Fatui get dragged into this unholy mess?
He forced his breathing to steady. His gaze drifted, entirely against his own will, toward the second stack of papers.
Regarding the Matter of the Geo Archon Being a Synthesized God Who Caused His Wife’s Death.
Given the sheer psychological assault of the previous piece, Sun could already envision the apocalyptic storm contained within these pages. His hands shook. Invisible strings seemed to pull his fingers forward, forcing him to flip the cover open.
[Chapter 1: Covenant of Twins]… [Chapter 2: The Counterfeit Rock]… [Chapter 3: My Name is Morax]…
His eyes darted frantically across the ink. His facial muscles spasmed, transitioning from sheer shock to abject horror, then settling into a hollow numbness. Finally, a strange, twisted sense of pathos began to pool in his chest.
The author was spouting absolute nonsense. It was pure blasphemy, dripping with malicious intent. Yet… the story itself… the tragic weight of the setting…
[“Kex, your power is the foundation of protection; it cannot disappear.” Mora held his partner’s hand… “And my clearance… if it can become the foundation left for this world by the new ‘us,’ then it is enough.”]
[“Live on,” Mora’s voice was gentle yet brooked no refusal. “Carry my power, my name, and live on together. From now on, you are ‘Morax’.”]
[Kex roared in agony, but he could not stop his lover’s self-annihilation.]
[He gradually became unwilling to touch Mora, never carrying any when he went out. It wasn’t forgetfulness, but rather that the pain was simply too heavy to bear.]
[“…Kex.” Finally, he finished reciting his own name. The wind wailed, like a sigh spanning a thousand years.]
Shopkeeper Sun slowly lowered the manuscript. The bustling sounds of the harbor outside faded into dead silence. He sat there, utterly mute, for a very long time.
The content was treasonous, but the prose was undeniably sophisticated. The bizarre, heretical lore possessed a strange, twisted logic. It took the widely known joke of the Geo Archon’s lack of money and elevated it to the deep, tragic height of a widower mourning his late wife.
He touched his chest. A heavy, bitter tightness gripped his heart.
Ridiculous. Bizarre. Blasphemous. Damnable.
But… why did it feel so compelling?
Why did the crushing sorrow and romantic sacrifice in these pages, violently mashed together with the Archon’s infamous forgetting his wallet meme, actually create a terrifying sense of emotional resonance?
For one dizzying, terrifying second, his mind slipped.
‘Could it be… did the Lord of Geo truly have a wife named Mora? Is that why he creates rocks instead of real gold? Does he refuse to carry money because the mere sight of it reminds him of his dead lover?’
No.
How could Rex Lapis possibly be broke? It was all the fault of that accursed Stone Amber’s Leisurely Travelogue. That garbage had poisoned his mind and led his thoughts astray.
Smack!
Sun raised a hand and slapped his own cheek, the sharp sting snapping him out of his delusion.
“Crazy. I’m going crazy. I’m actually letting this trash brainwash me,” he muttered, his heart hammering against his ribs with lingering dread.
This manuscript was pure poison. It was arsenic glazed in sweet honey. To read it was to become hopelessly addicted; to publish it was to forfeit one’s life.
He finally understood why the mysterious contributor had vanished like a ghost in the wind. If the Millelith caught anyone holding these pages, they would be rotting in a dungeon for the rest of their natural life.
Yet… his eyes locked onto the two stacks of paper once more. A storm of conflicting desires raged in his gaze.
The dread was absolute. The fear of execution was entirely justified. But he was a book merchant. His razor-sharp commercial instincts screamed that these two pieces—especially the first one, with its apocalyptic title and highly toxic lore—would trigger a cultural earthquake. It would eclipse the sensation of Stone Amber’s Leisurely Travelogue by a factor of a hundred.
The public would publicly condemn it as heresy. They would curse the author in the streets. And then, under the cover of darkness, they would trample each other to buy a copy, reading it feverishly behind locked doors.
The sales. The sheer, unfathomable mountain of Mora.
Sun hallucinated a vast, glittering ocean of gold crashing through his front door. But right beside that golden tide, he saw the stern, unforgiving face of the Millelith instructor, Fengyan, holding a pair of iron shackles and a bowl of cold, damp prison gruel.
His soul fractured under the weight of the ultimate dilemma.
Print it and risk the wrath of the heavens? Or burn it to ash and pretend it never existed?
That was the question.
But… why did his hands itch to share this tragedy with the world?
Logic screamed at him from the darkest corners of his mind. ‘Burn it! Throw it in the furnace! Destroy the evidence!’
This was no longer a crude joke. This was heart-piercing heresy. If the officials from the Ministry of Civil Affairs or the Yuehai Pavilion caught wind of this, his bookstore would be leveled. He would never see the light of day again. Rex Lapis may have passed on, but his divine prestige still anchored the nation. The Liyue Qixing would never tolerate a publication that shook the economic foundation of the world and spat on the gods.
On the other hand, the primal instinct of a publisher clawed at his throat.
He could see the tidal wave of chaos sweeping through Liyue Harbor the moment that tragic, beautiful, utterly deranged story hit the shelves.
Shock. Fury. Fervent whispers in the teahouses. Mora flowing into his registers like a torrential river. Strip away the treason, and the narrative possessed a dark magic that made it physically impossible to put down.
His trembling fingers reached out. He picked up Regarding the Matter of the Geo Archon Being a Synthesized God Who Caused His Wife’s Death one last time, his eyes drawn inevitably to the final lines of the third chapter.
[“…Kex.” Finally, he finished reciting his own name. The wind wailed, like a sigh spanning a thousand years. The Geo Archon Morax, today, still protects Liyue, and still… remains penniless.]
Sun swallowed hard. A sudden, sharp sting pricked at the corners of his eyes. His nose felt strangely sour.
“Ridiculous,” he cursed in a hoarse whisper, shaking his head violently to clear the moisture from his eyes. “Old Sun, oh Old Sun. You really are going senile in your old age. How can you sit here and cry over such absolute nonsense?”