Genshin Impact, I, a mere mortal, cannot accompany you to the very end.

This method can only be done once every three days and is very harmful to the body because past memories are worn down.

“Come on,” Kiyono said.

He had barely finished speaking when memories flooded back like a tide.

Kiyono dreamed of that dandelion field again.

Dandelions in Mondstadt floated gently, scattering in the air like tiny snowflakes, as small as cotton wool. Warm sunlight enveloped the dandelion clusters. Kiyono carried a longsword in one hand, his long golden hair hanging down to his waist, and the boy's pale eyes resembled those of a little wolf.

His appearance has changed.

You are learning the West Wind Sword Technique.

The slender sword swept past the dandelion clusters, touching them briefly, yet the clusters did not scatter after the sword passed through; instead, they maintained their previous trajectory and floated upwards—Qingye observed the sword's path.

When the mind is calm and clear, all things in the world dissipate.

As the sun rose higher, sweat dripped down his face. He was panting heavily, and his swordsmanship became increasingly light and skillful.

Progress percentage: 4%, 5%...

I feel good today.

Kiyono felt he could hold on a little longer.

Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.

There is such a light and beautiful sword technique in this world... Kiyono slowly became immersed in it.

Immersed in this memory.

Completely immersed.

Hold on a little longer.

Let's watch a little longer.

Time passed slowly, the sky began to darken, the sunset spread out in layers, the sun hung low, and the pedestrians in Mondstadt became sparse, as everyone prepared to go home.

The surroundings were completely quiet.

By the time Kiyono put down his sword, it was already dusk.

He had never stayed this long before.

My body is already very tired.

It's about time to go home.

At that moment, a light, melodious girl's singing voice suddenly drifted from Mondstadt.

The voice was light and cheerful, like the wind. It was an a cappella performance without accompaniment. The light of dusk gave the singing a shape, making it as clear as shimmering shards of glass.

This is a very famous folk song called 'Rainy Night at Fruit Wine Lake'.

Following the sound, Qingye saw two long, slender, and fair legs dangling from a tall pillar in the corner of the square. The snow-white feet were dangling in summer sandals, swaying up and down.

"You sang beautifully," the boy said, head held high. "Was it the rainy night at Fruit Wine Lake?"

Upon hearing the sound, the legs stopped swaying and seemed to freeze.

half an hour.

The leg retracted, and a head peeked out from the pillar.

Wearing a hood similar to that of a shrine maiden, which covered most of her delicate face, her long, smooth hair, like silk, cascaded down.

The girl tilted her head, flicked the tip of her nose with her slender index finger, and said rather impolitely:

"Uh, where did you come from... I thought... no one was here."

“I’ve been listening for a long time,” he said earnestly. “I’ve been training behind the square these past few days, and I can hear it every time.”

The girl's tone gradually became questioning about life.

"So you've been listening for many days?"

"Haa... let me die."

The girl pulled down her hood, covering her face like an ostrich, revealing only her clear, transparent eyes. She said:

"How embarrassing... I always thought no one was around. I was just humming for fun, to release some stress."

"But I think it sounds great."

The boy said earnestly, looking at the girl with sincerity and honesty, "If something sounds good, it should be heard. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"..." The girl still pulled up her hood, revealing a surrendering expression. "Okay."

"However, it is indeed shameful to shout and yell just because no one is around, and say things like 'Wow, astrology is so hard, I'm not going to learn it anymore!'"

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silence.

The girl buried her face completely in the hood, the black hood covering her delicate profile, with only her earlobe visible.

Her face began to flush, and she murmured in a voice as soft as the chirping of insects:

"You heard that too..."

"Yes. By the way, it's impolite to talk to someone while covering your face."

In a fit of despair, she pulled off her hood, revealing her long, silky white hair, disheveled like a bristling hedgehog, giving her an impression of fierceness and anger.

"I already said I was just relieving stress!"

"What I mean is," the boy said, his head held high, his eyes clear and bright, like they held a ray of sunshine.

"You can confide in me if you have any troubles; it is a knight's duty to share a lady's worries."

"You're a knight? But you're not even as old as me."

“A trainee knight is still a knight.”

"What's your name?"

"Russtan, and you, madam?"

"Don't tell you."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

PS1: I'll write 4,000 words today. I'm taking a little break because... I need to catch up on some sleep first.

The World Cup semi-final will be held tomorrow at 3 AM, with Argentina playing against Croatia.

Wow, I really want to watch this! I've been watching 8,000 games a day for the past few days, and I haven't watched a single game. If I miss this, I'll regret it for four years!

So, tomorrow it will remain unchanged at 8,000.

PS2: Then there are changes to Rustam's character compared to the original setting.

Volume 1: Chapter 35 Lady, I'll Burn You

"What's your name?"

"Russtan, and you, madam?"

Kiyono suddenly felt dizzy, as if his soul was being torn apart. He was dizzy and powerless, and all sorts of memories flooded into his mind. The images in his eyes shattered and then reassembled, like pieces of broken glass pieced together. The sounds around him became increasingly blurry.

A burning valley, a maddened dragon, monsters swarming the sky, blood... and a weeping girl.

She cried desperately and painfully, seemingly saying something over and over again, but Kiyono couldn't hear her. Crystalline tears streamed down the girl's cheeks and dripped onto Kiyono's face—the girl's tears were almost all gone.

Regret, regret.

Despair, despair.

Even the wind is crying.

"What's your name?"

"What's your name?"

"What's your name?"

The mind is constantly eroded by the flood of memories.

“Ru...s…”

"Lu..."

"What is my name...?"

[The wind whispers through the clear fields! The wind whispers through the clear fields! The wind whispers through the clear fields!]

Wake up! You're lost!

You've gotten way too deeply involved this time!

He fell from the plank, seawater filling his nostrils as he sank deeper and deeper.

A system warning echoed deep within his soul. The scene before him rapidly faded, and the turbulent flow of memories receded like a tide. Qingye abruptly opened his eyes, only to be met with...

It was the blinding and fierce sunlight of the sea. The sunlight was diluted by the sea surface, and only a few ambiguous reddish fragments of light fell down. Apart from that, it was pitch black beneath the sea.

My body is numb and weak.

Kiyono struggled to swim to the surface, but he found that even a simple action like raising his arm was difficult.

Breathing is becoming increasingly difficult.

This time they really messed up.

That's just asking for trouble.

Kiyono clicked his tongue softly.

He became so engrossed in practicing swordsmanship that he forgot about time, and once he became too absorbed in past memories, he would lose himself in them.

The human soul is far too fragile to withstand the wear and tear of long memories.

Even for gods, wear and tear is a cruel and deadly thing.