English
Indonesia
Chinese (Simp)
Japanese
Korean
Spanish
Portuguese
French
German
ArabicGenshin Impact: A Guide to the Unofficial History of Teyvat — Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Submitting Again
Lovia placed the two drafts side by side on her wobbly, splintered table, her gaze darting anxiously between them.
The first, titled Regarding the Matter of the Geo Archon Being a Synthesized God Who Caused His Wife’s Death, was bold, blunt, and packed a lethal punch. It perfectly aligned with her original intention to go big. But the risks were glaringly obvious. Slapping that title on a cover was tantamount to waving a flag at the Millelith and shouting, “Come look, I’m making up treasonous slander about Rex Lapis right here!”
The second option, The Name of Morax Actually Hides Twin Deities and a Life-and-Death Contract!, boasted a core premise just as outrageous, yet the title carried a veneer of professional, scholarly intrigue. The prose inside was slightly more serious, draped in the convenient fig leaf of “academic research” and “drunken slips from an anonymous Wangsheng Funeral Parlor consultant.”
“Hmm… how about I just dump them both on the shopkeeper and let him choose?” Lovia giggled, her otaku heart fluttering with a chaotic mix of dread and glee. She folded the thick stacks of parchment and tucked them securely into the bodice of her dress.
“I just hope the poor guy doesn’t faint on the spot.” She patted the slight bulge of the hidden drafts and took a deep, steadying breath.
Pulling her oversized cloak tight, she lifted the heavy hood to conceal her distinct, aquatic Melusine features. Like a wary alley cat, Lovia slipped out of her secluded shack. She darted through the shadows at the edge of the harbor, moving with the nimble grace of a fish slipping through reeds, smoothly blending into the evening crowds of Liyue.
The weather had turned sour since her last outing. A damp, salty mist rolled in off the sea breeze, casting a gloomy, oppressive veil over the glowing lanterns of Liyue Harbor.
Lovia’s chest mirrored the turbulent weather, fluttering with anxious uncertainty. As she walked, she muttered under her breath, rehearsing her pitch.
“Shopkeeper, sir, I’ve brought a new manuscript with some bold speculations… or perhaps, do you think the market would prefer this thematic direction?”
Or maybe she should just play it cool and direct: “These two are even more explosive than the last. Do I get a bonus?”
She shook her head, trying to clear the chaotic swirl of thoughts. Just improvise. Read the room.
Either way… the sheer audacity of this content would be enough to make the local storytellers choke on three pounds of premium Qiaoying Village tea!
Arriving at the bookstore, she noticed the entrance was practically buzzing, far livelier than her previous visit. Through the wooden lattice, she could hear several patrons arguing passionately. The topic of their debate? Record of Shi Po’s Wanderings.
“…It’s an absolute masterpiece! Even knowing it’s complete nonsense, seeing Rex Lapis suffer such mundane setbacks… er, I mean, experience the struggles of mortal life, why is it so incredibly entertaining?!” a gruff, bearded merchant bellowed.
“Keep your voice down! It’s not Rex Lapis! The book clearly says it’s Lord Jueyun Chili!”
“Right, right, my mistake. Lord Jueyun Chili.”
“Isn’t it just brilliant, though? Hahaha, the character writing is so lifelike you’d think the author actually stalks the Adepti!” another voice chimed in, slapping his knee.
Lovia’s pulse skyrocketed, a dizzying cocktail of sheer terror and authorial pride flooding her veins.
She yanked her hood down as far as it would go and carefully squeezed through the bustling doorway. Waiting for the exact moment the patrons turned their backs, she lunged forward.
Smack!
The shopkeeper only felt a sudden, violent gust of wind. Before his eyes could even focus, a sharp thwack echoed across the room as a thick stack of neatly folded papers slammed onto the wooden counter.
He jerked his head up in shock, catching nothing but a fleeting glimpse of a petite figure and the brilliant, glowing flash of bright blue eyes hidden beneath the dark cowl of a hood.
Having delivered her payload, the figure didn’t linger for a fraction of a second. She spun on her heel and bolted out the door with terrifying speed, practically scrambling on all fours to vanish into the dense sea of pedestrians outside. The entire drop-off took less than three seconds.
“Hey! Wait! The drafts—” the shopkeeper called out, his hand reaching across the counter, but the mysterious author was already gone, swallowed by the Liyue night.
Swallowing hard, he looked down at the papers abandoned on his counter. The folding method was identical. The elegant, flowing handwriting was unmistakable. And the title glaring up at him from the cover read: The Name of Morax Actually Hides Twin Deities and a Life-and-Death Contract!
The shopkeeper’s hand began to tremble, rattling the wooden beads of his abacus. He bumped his porcelain teacup, spilling hot jasmine tea across the desk, his fingers shaking even more violently than the day he received her first manuscript.
Dreading what came next, he flipped to the second draft.
Regarding the Matter of the Geo Archon Being a Synthesized God Who Caused His Wife’s Death?!
This… this title… what absolute blasphemy! What unmitigated audacity!
Had this “Li Xin” completely lost their mind?! The previous Record of Shi Po’s Wanderings pushed the boundaries, sure, but at its core, it was harmless, comedic teasing. But this? This was a death sentence. The shopkeeper felt a block of solid ice form at the soles of his feet and shoot straight up his spine. He could already hear the rhythmic, heavy boots of the Millelith marching toward his door, the cold clinking of iron shackles echoing in his ears.
He whipped his head around, scanning the shop like a cornered animal. Seeing that the eccentric contributor had indeed vanished without drawing the attention of his gossiping customers, he snatched the two drafts off the counter with the frantic speed of a street thief. He shoved them deep into the hidden drawer beneath his register, slamming it shut and turning the brass key with a loud, guilty clack.
His heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to crack his sternum.
The drawer was locked, but those two apocalyptic titles spiraled wildly in his mind, refusing to be ignored.
The Name of Morax Actually Hides Twin Deities and a Life-and-Death Contract! was slightly… marginally better. At least it wore the mask of a fringe historical theory. But the actual text inside? Knowing Li Xin, the contents were undoubtedly just as treasonous!
And the other one—the title alone was enough to get him dragged up to Yujing Terrace and locked in a public pillory for the high crime of blaspheming the divine!
Fine beads of cold sweat broke out across the shopkeeper’s forehead. He forced himself to breathe, aimlessly flicking the beads of his abacus to project an aura of calm business, desperately trying to mask the sheer panic tearing through his chest. A few feet away, his customers were still loudly debating the comedic highlights of Record of Shi Po’s Wanderings, howling with laughter over the chapter where “Lord Jueyun Chili” was scammed by unscrupulous street vendors and got hopelessly lost because he forgot his Mora.
But the shopkeeper felt completely detached from reality, trapped in his own nightmare. His gaze drifted downward, magnetically pulled toward that locked drawer.
Curiosity is a vicious thing. It was like a cat’s claw, repeatedly and agonizingly scratching at the back of his mind.
What in Teyvat’s name did that lunatic Li Xin actually write? Twin deities? A life-and-death contract? Causing his wife’s death?!
And what in the Abyss was a Synthesized God?!
Every single syllable of those titles danced on the razor’s edge of Liyue’s strictest laws and trampled over the people’s deepest faith!
Finally, agonizing minutes passed. After ushering the last lingering customer out the door and during a temporary lull in the shop, the shopkeeper stood in the quiet room. He checked the windows, peering into the misty street like a paranoid criminal to ensure no one was watching.
Trembling, he pulled the brass key from his pocket and unlocked the drawer that now felt as though it housed a slumbering, prehistoric beast.
He took a deep, ragged breath, looking exactly like a man stepping up to the executioner’s block. Reaching into the dark wood, he bypassed the lethal option and pulled out the draft with the relatively “milder” title: The Name of Morax Actually Hides Twin Deities and a Life-and-Death Contract!
Slowly unfolding the crisp parchment, he began to read, word by terrifying word.