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

The woman was always good at hiding. When she was just an ordinary girl, she hid in the attic of the square and peered down, and even the wolf cub Rustan couldn't find her.

Clearly, five hundred years later, Kiyono Fuue still couldn't find her.

She didn't have any cruel fetishes, like that executioner who took pleasure in watching others die.

The woman's purpose was simple and pure: to continue 'fishing'.

She never forgot her goal in coming to Mondstadt: to seize the 'Heart of the Anemo Archon'.

The Fools stole the Sky Harp simply because the Wind God needed it to quell the dragon plague.

They stole the Sky Harp only to lure out the Wind God.

Now, the Sky Harp is in the hands of this dying boy.

The woman could easily guess his purpose.

The reason he was still clinging to life, and the reason he was pretending to die to lure the Fools away, was so that he could hand over the Sky Harp to Barbatos on his deathbed.

The lady should take advantage of this.

When the Wind God appears, take advantage of her emotional turmoil to launch a surprise attack and rip out her heart.

Even in death, did he still want to save Mondstadt? He died alone on the beach... The lady gazed at the boy whose life was as fragile as a flickering candle, and lowered her eyes slightly.

It's Barbatos again.

That useless god, this useless city, are you worth sacrificing your lives for?

It doesn't matter anymore.

The woman wanted to exploit the boy's death.

She was no longer the Rosalyn she once was; she had buried everything about her girlhood in that fire, and her heart was ashes.

To achieve her ideal, the woman had already decided to despise and exploit everything—morality, freedom, and even the life of this young man—all of which would be turned into firewood in the raging fire.

She will eventually ignite this world.

just.

Night slowly faded, and so did the tide. One by one, the cold waves died on the rocks, their bodies dragged back into the water by the departing moon, leaving only tear-like streaks on the beach.

Kiyono Kaze lay alone in the center of his tears, his breath growing increasingly labored, as he stepped into the grave alone.

However, she had a strange sense of déjà vu.

On the beach, only Kiyono Kazein was there. Only that boy was gone. His companions, friends, and the knights of the Knights of Favonius were all gone. Only that boy died alone.

He must be so cold...?

Just like Rustan, who died at the bottom of the valley five hundred years ago.

When Rustan left, he probably wanted someone to be with him, right?

But I wasn't there.

She was in Sumeru, she was angry with him, and she couldn't make it to his death.

She recalled those days when, every dusk and dawn, she would hide in the high attic and observe the boy named Rustan, from dawn till dusk.

No matter how many times he was stood up, that idiot always came. He said it was a knight's promise. Until that day, a torrential downpour poured down on the boy's thin body. It was as if he was the only person left in the world, like an abandoned little wolf.

—Back then, girls were also at such a high place.

The woman gently shook her head, trying to shake off the inexplicable sense of déjà vu.

It's all over now, after tonight.

The distracting thoughts that had been bothering her for days would disappear.

What a beautiful night.

The woman sighed softly, her pale blue eyes reflecting the silvery moonlight.

As dawn broke, the leaden night sky faded first, the sea surface was slowly dyed red, and streaks of smoky color stretched across the sky, gradually illuminating the coastline.

The world is about to dawn—

The not-so-warm morning light fell on the boy, and Qingye Fengyin's eyes trembled slightly, his fingers twitching.

Things have finally changed.

The woman quietly observed him, paying attention to every blade of grass and tree around her.

Perhaps it was a final burst of energy before death, for the boy opened his eyes.

He didn't know who he was talking to; perhaps he was hallucinating, or perhaps it was just his dying mutterings.

“There’s no such thing as being satisfied or not,” he said softly. “I don’t want to mess around anymore.”

The woman observed the way he spoke: the boy had his head down, his eyes were dark, his shoulders were drooping, and his hands hung limply and naturally. He seemed very tired, very tired.

Like an old tree that has rotted inside—that's the woman's illusion, a decaying, drooping old tree with withered leaves, its tall trunk devoured by insects and ants, its long history destroying everything about the tree.

This doesn't sound like the reaction of a young person before death. He was so young, yet he died in the prime of his life. His tone should have been more one of resentment and indignation, not the exhausted, aged sound of an old man.

He was tired, he was lonely, and he didn't want to keep going.

"I don't want to live like this in my next life."

Qingye Road.

"I want to live a happy and joyful life. I don't want to do so many things anymore."

"Live a carefree and happy life, find a wife, and live a peaceful and stable life."

Facing his own death, there was no anger, no resentment; the boy simply said he wanted to live a happy and joyful life. He didn't want to do so many things anymore.

To live a peaceful and uneventful life, to find a wife, to live a carefree and happy life—this is just an ordinary thing, something that can be easily achieved, but it is this young man's dream.

The boy, who had lost his heart, hung his head, the sea breeze lashing against him. Facing the ocean, he spoke with the forlornness of a little wolf.

Why wasn't he angry or hateful?

The woman's heart turned to ashes, and she deeply resented the world, while the boy lost his heart and was left only with loneliness and exhaustion.

"I'm about to die, so you can give me that memory now."

Nonsensical remarks.

The woman listened to his almost murmured words and gently pursed her lips.

But he was indeed going to die.

The woman could feel the last vestiges of life fading rapidly from the boy's body. The reason he was still able to speak and move was perhaps just a 'last gasp' before death.

The boy had lost everything, with only a little time left.

In the final moments of his life, what did he want to do with his remaining time?

The woman was somewhat curious.

He slowly propped himself up, his body moving very slowly. Behind him was a flat reef, which he used to support his body so he wouldn't fall. He faced the sea, paused, and waved into the distance.

As expected, everything went exactly as the lady predicted.

The Harp of the Sky.

The wind lifted the harp of the sky and lowered it into his hands.

The lady was ready to make her move.

She won't forget her important business.

Beneath her crimson eyeshadow, her eyes were icy cold. She calmly and indifferently surveyed everything, ice elements slowly gathering in her palms. As soon as the Mondstadt wind god appeared on the beach, she would launch a surprise attack and steal the god's heart.

Time passed slowly. The sun rose higher and higher, and the coastline grew brighter and brighter, but the boy's life was already a flickering candle on the road to oblivion.

To the lady's surprise—

The boy did nothing.

Kiyono Kaze gently closed his eyes. He leaned against the reef, seemingly recalling many things from the past. A smile seemed to be playing on his lips. The sea breeze blew over his body. He did nothing but gently pluck the strings of his instrument.

At the end of his life, there was no resentment, no hatred; he was even smiling.

Despite being exhausted, the boy still loved the world.

I love the sunrise, I love Mondstadt, I love this sea.

He just wanted to sing for them.

“…What?” the woman said softly.

The melody of the song is both familiar and strange, coming from the depths of the soul, from a small wooden box sealed in the ruins of memory. The box is covered with dust and thick cobwebs, but the notes are hidden inside that small wooden box.

As the saying goes, humans are peculiar; some senses of touch can never be forgotten, such as taste and sound.

When I'm far from home, eating the dishes of my hometown reminds me of my childhood, the old locust tree at the entrance of the alley, and the cherry blossoms at the village entrance. Hearing the familiar accent brings to mind one old friend after another. Memory is truly a magical thing.

No matter how you forget, bury, or leave, even if you are no longer yourself, you will never change your taste, you will never forget your hometown accent, and you will always deeply miss that person.

"The west wind will carry away the aroma of the wine."

A rainy night at Guojiu Lake.

The strings of the Sky Harp were melodious and serene, as light as the wind. The warm spring breeze swept through the streets of Mondstadt, through the dandelions at dusk, and through countless years. The blond boy gazed at her with a smile:

"You sang beautifully. Was it the rainy night at Guojiu Lake?" This was the boy's first sentence to the girl.

"The mountain breeze brings news of victory."

"Feel free to confide in me about any troubles; it is a knight's duty to share a lady's burdens."

The wind from afar stirs my heart.

"Russtan, and you, ma'am?"

[The soft murmur of my longing for you]

Why are you pinching me again?

These scars have long yearned for your gentle caress.

"But I wasn't joking!"

"I want to hold your hand."