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ArabicGenshin Impact: A Guide to the Unofficial History of Teyvat — Chapter 24
Chapter 24: Shopkeeper Sun’s Reactions
Shopkeeper Sun gripped the stack of high-quality manuscript paper, his fingertips trembling with a feverish warmth. He scarcely dared to breathe, his eyes devouring every single word of The Wanderings of the Mortal Rock: Part Two.
When he reached the segment detailing the “ten boxes for half price” promotion, the deep wrinkles lining his weathered face bloomed into a wide, unrestrained grin. He raised a hand, barely stopping himself from slapping the mahogany desk in sheer admiration.
“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!” he whispered to the empty room, entirely unable to contain his bubbling excitement. “‘Infinitely cumulative, eventually reaching free’… hahaha! This… this is truly a stroke of genius!”
He adjusted his glasses, shaking his head in awe. “Only Mr. Lixin would dare to speculate in such a brazen manner about the Geo Archon’s ultimate understanding of ‘contracts’and’rules.’ This isn’t the writing of someone out of touch with worldly affairs; it is the work of a mind far too familiar with the very essence of the rules themselves!”
He could almost perfectly envision the merchant’s face turning a sickly ashen gray, surrounded by the stunned, gaping expressions of the onlookers.
This specific brand of humor—tinged with absurdity yet somehow perfectly aligning with a certain “divine logic”—was the unique charm of Mr. Lixin’s work. It was the exact reason The Wanderings of the Mortal Rock series connected so widely across the harbor. It brought the lofty, untouchable Archon down to a level that was both endearing and wonderfully approachable.
Reading the scene where Young Master Shi Pochen calmly billed the hundred boxes of luxury fragrance directly to the Ministry of Civil Affairs, Shopkeeper Sun let out a knowing chuckle. That familiar, shameless financial maneuver felt absolutely perfect.
As the narrative shifted to the distribution of the perfume among the illuminated adepti, Sun read with even greater relish. With just a few masterful strokes of the pen, their distinct personalities leaped off the page. Cloud Retainer’s haughty confusion, Moon Carver’s wry, helpless smile, Mountain Shaper’s intense academic curiosity, Adeptus Xiao’s stunned yet unwavering loyalty… and Streetward Rambler’s gentle teasing, her wise eyes seeing through the entire farce. It all felt so vividly real, as if he were standing right there in Jueyun Karst, witnessing the exchanges firsthand.
“This Mr. Lixin… could he truly have personal connections with the adepti?” Sun muttered, his brow furrowing. “Otherwise, how could he portray the dispositions of these mighty true lords so vividly and convincingly?”
He couldn’t help but suspect the author’s background once again, but quickly shook his head, deciding he was overanalyzing. It was likely just the product of an exceptionally rich and realistic imagination.
However, as his eyes tracked down to the final scene—where Young Master Shi Pochen carried the remaining perfume to an unmarked stone stele at the foot of a lonely mountain—the amusement gradually drained from Sun’s face.
He read of Shi Pochen’s gentle, deliberate movements. He read the whispered words spoken to the wind, visualizing the setting sun stretching the man’s solitary shadow across the earth. The lingering floral fragrance, the golden pine needles drifting down like Mora… Shopkeeper Sun fell utterly silent.
His gaze remained anchored to that final, quiet moment before the unmarked stele. For a long time, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.
Upon his first pass of the text, he had simply found the scene exquisitely beautiful. Its emotions were restrained yet deep, carrying an indescribable sense of melancholy and tenderness that physically ached to read.
The image of the Geo Archon, a being of such unfathomable, world-shaping power, standing entirely alone before a nameless tomb, speaking softly as if afraid to disturb the sleeper… it possessed a quiet force that struck directly at the heart.
It was a tenderness and concern that had traversed vast, unforgiving stretches of time. It had long since settled into his bones, becoming a quiet habit. The instinct to share new and interesting things, to murmur to an empty slab of stone as if the other person had merely gone on a long journey.
‘Whenever I see something new, I always want you to see it too…’
Sun chewed on that single line repeatedly, feeling the softest, most guarded part of his heart gently touched. This Mr. Lixin… his pen was truly a terrifying weapon—both razor-sharp and deeply sentimental.
Suddenly, Sun’s attention snagged on the very last passage of text.
‘Until his figure disappeared at the end of the mountain path. A gust of wind passed, and suddenly, several golden pine needles drifted down from the ancient tree beside the stele, lightly covering the perfume boxes, shimmering like Mora.’
“So… so that’s it! That’s it!” His voice trembled, the words escaping as a hoarse groan. “Mr. Lixin, this… this is no mere casual detail. This is clearly… a callback! The finishing touch!”
His mind raced, frantically connecting the previous chapters with the agonizingly beautiful words before him.
Who lay in eternal rest beneath that unmarked stele?
Before, he might have guessed it was a fallen comrade or an old yaksha acquaintance of the Archon. But now, combined with those two previous investigative works circulating in the market, the answer was practically screaming at him.
It was Mora!
It was the tragic lover who had presided over creation and the value of all things—the goddess who had ultimately sacrificed herself for Rex (the deity who would later become Morax), merging her very essence with his! It was the Archon’s wife, the one bound by a cruel fate to die!
And what had the Archon brought to her resting place?
Perfume? A mundane memento symbolizing ‘lingering fragrance’?
No! It was absolutely not just that!
In Shopkeeper Sun’s newly baptized understanding, those ten carefully placed perfume boxes took on a brand-new, spine-tingling symbolic weight.
The Archon had distributed a hundred boxes among the adepti, yet he had uniquely kept exactly ten to bring before this unmarked stele. What he brought was not something purchased with the “Mora” created by his deceased wife’s divine power—for the true Mora had vanished with her passing, leaving behind only a lost echo.
Rather, it was a gift he, in the name of Rex, had purchased with the currency belonging to Morax, all to commemorate the true her.
This perfume was bought with the rock’s counterfeit coin. That currency, though still bearing the name ‘Mora,’ had long lost her soul, reduced to nothing more than a lifeless imitation. What a complex, deep, and utterly heart-wrenching tribute this was.
Shopkeeper Sun suddenly understood why The Wanderings of the Mortal Rock: Part Two felt so much weightier and more moving than the first installment.
It didn’t just continue that endearing, otherworldly humor; it delivered a stunning emotional strike at the very end, instantly elevating the story’s tone by more than a single notch. This was no longer a collection of amusing anecdotes. It was a window, offering a glimpse into a quiet, tender corner of a deity’s impossibly long life.
The act of extravagantly buying a hundred boxes of perfume seemed laughable at first glance. But upon deeper reflection, it revealed the pure, unblemished heart of a child. The Archon discovering a mortal rule and wanting to explore its limits, being terrible with finances yet endlessly generous in sharing, and finally… that sincere, quiet sentiment left for a departed soul.
The Archon portrayed by Mr. Lixin seemed unorthodox, yet on a deeper level, he accurately touched upon a deep humanity hidden within the divinity. This was countless times more brilliant than mere transgression or rumor-mongering!
Shopkeeper Sun’s heart pounded wildly against his ribs. He keenly realized that this piece might connect more deeply and leave a far stronger aftertaste than those two highly sensational investigative works.
It was funny, yet not merely funny. It seemed irreverent on the surface, but its core was filled with closeness and understanding toward the deity.
“Remarkable. Truly remarkable…” Sun murmured, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His gaze upon the manuscript was now filled with deep awe and respect.
His sharp business sense told him that this sequel—especially its devastating ending—would spark even more fervent discussion and reflection than the first book once published.
He could already foresee the spectacle when this booklet hit the shelves. People would laugh and debate it. They would joke about how ‘the Archon also loves a bargain’and quote’ten boxes for half price,’ delighting in the baffled reactions of the adepti.
But ultimately, they would find themselves immersed in the quiet tragedy and tenderness of that sunset at the mountain’s foot.
As an ordinary citizen of Liyue and a devout believer in the Geo Archon, Shopkeeper Sun felt a trace of unease about speculating on divine will. Yet, beneath that unease, he felt a deep, abiding comfort.
If their deity truly possessed such a human side—unable to balance accounts, buying too many gifts for his friends, and whispering softly before a silent stele at sunset… that seemed like a rather beautiful thing.
Sun stroked the manuscript, his heart heavy with mixed emotions. He couldn’t help but recall the afternoon months ago when he first received The Wanderings of the Mortal Rock: Part One.
Back then, Wanwen Bookhouse’s business had been agonizingly slow. New storybooks repeatedly stagnated in sales, and he had been tearing his hair out over what to print for the next issue. When a young child had handed him the manuscript signed ‘Lixin,’ his initial read had left him feeling it was pure absurdity.
How dare someone be so audacious, portraying the Lord of Geo in such a ridiculous manner!
But desperation had pushed him to try. He had gritted his teeth and published it with intense trepidation, even privately drafting several apology letters in advance, terrified it might anger the Ministry of Civil Affairs or draw fierce condemnation from devout readers.
Yet, who could have imagined the outcome? On the day of publication, the threshold of Wanwen Bookhouse was practically trampled flat. Readers eagerly passed the copies around, engaging in heated, non-stop discussions. It sold out in a single day, and three rushed reprints still couldn’t satisfy the ravenous demand.
It was only then that Shopkeeper Sun truly realized that the seemingly absurd portrayal of the Archon by Mr. Lixin was not blasphemy. It was a unique form of intimacy, a humanization of the deity that made the people of Liyue smile knowingly.
“Quick! Quick!” Shopkeeper Sun suddenly shot up from his chair. His vision darkened momentarily from rising too fast, and he had to steady himself heavily against the edge of the desk.
He urgently shouted toward the outer room, his voice cracking with urgency. “Go fetch the engraving master immediately! Double his pay! We need the fastest speed possible! We must publish The Wanderings of the Mortal Rock: Part Two right away!”
Agitated and practically vibrating with energy, he paced around the study, rubbing his hands together and muttering incessantly. “This time… this time it will surely be even more popular than the last. We need to print more. At least… at least three times the last print run! No, five times!”
The shop assistant shouted an affirmative response and scrambled out the door to make the arrangements.
Shopkeeper Sun collapsed back into his chair, picking up the stack of manuscript paper once more. He simply couldn’t put it down.
Tracing the familiar handwriting, his curiosity about this ‘Mr. Lixin’ reached a fever pitch. He couldn’t wait to see this book displayed in the most prominent spot in Wanwen Bookhouse. He couldn’t wait to hear the readers’ exclamations, their laughter, and that inevitable, heavy silence and sigh after finishing the final page.
Simultaneously, a burning thought took root in his heart: Just who is this Mr. Lixin? He had to find a way to meet this remarkable genius!
It was just a pity that this gentleman always sent a runner to deliver the manuscripts, remaining far, far too mysterious.