It was a remarkably graceful crane.
Its belly was covered in downy white feathers, while its wings were a sky-blue hue, each feather as delicate as if carved from sapphire. The warm orange glow of the sun fell softly upon its tail.
With a gentle flap of those sky-blue wings, it descended steadily from the treetop onto the ground, lifting its slender, elegant neck.
"Who disturbs my peace in these mountains?"
spoke the crane.
Its gemlike eyes reflected Yaku's profile. Cloud Retainer observed the young man before her—observed him in the sense of "gazing upon his aura," as the adepti might say.
Seino Yaku's body was formed from that millennia-old jade on the shores of the Cape Oath—"two fair souls, one a bloom from the Gardens of Immortality, the other a flawless jewel," as some verse might put it. His body was like an unblemished gemstone, and his presence was clear and pure.
His heart was formed from an oath, pure and pristine white. In this life, he had resolved to live freely and unrestrained; that untroubled outlook suited the path of immortal cultivation perfectly.
That vacant clarity of his spirit was outwardly visible; the "aura" surrounding him was conspicuously pristine—
Cloud Retainer had encountered countless people in two millennia. Shenhe was, until now, the most apt mortal she had ever seen for the adepti's path. Yet perhaps this youth's aptitude surpassed even Shenhe's.
Just like that foolish disciple of hers.
Cloud Retainer cast a brief glance at the dish on the stone table, which still steamed faintly in the cool evening air—soft tofu bobbing in a clear broth. The warm rays of the setting sun filtered through layers of creeping vines, lighting the table. Jewelry Soup.
She had not caught the fragrance of that dish for a long time.
—Just like three thousand years ago.
"Ah…"
"Hello," Seino Yaku said somewhat shyly.
This crane was likely the legendary adeptus—indeed, the being he had come to offer tribute to.
"Who disturbs my peace in these mountains?" was what the bird had said just now—surely it was because he had been too loud and disturbed her peace?
"Speak quietly and fear the ones in Heaven"—as Li Bai's words went, indeed. Yaku realized he had been too careless—what Liyue called "failing to show due respect to an adeptus."
He needed to make バカLumine apologize—hm? What was バカLumine doing?
He glanced at バカLumine and was stunned.
Upon seeing the crane, Lumine's expression had turned ravenous. She'd even pulled a slingshot from her belt, mumbling to herself, "Two fowls, two fowls…"
That fool!
What did she mean by "two fowls"!
This was an adeptus—surely not just two fowls. Besides, what kind of ridiculous nickname was that? And in any case, you don't give the adepti nicknames!
Seino Yaku brought his hand down on Lumine's head in a karate-chop. She let out an "Ouch!" and clutched her head, her pretty eyes welling with faint tears, glaring at him with resentment.
"I made this…"
Seino Yaku noticed the crane looking at the dish on the stone table and explained:
"Jewelry Soup, and also Mora Meat… This is my first time cooking; my skills aren't great. I hope the adeptus won't blame me."
He paused. "If it offends the adeptus, I can take it away right now."
"No need."
The crane's reply came swiftly. Her tone was calm. "Leaving it is fine. This immortal does not find it particularly objectionable."
Ganyu was rather surprised by her master's appearance.
Mt. Aocang was not devoid of worshipers, but even when mortals came with offerings, her master typically ignored them, never appearing before anyone…
Ganyu furrowed her brow, her glass-like eyes reflecting a trace of confusion. She had assumed that her master despised "Jewelry Soup" as much as she did, but apparently, that was not the case at all.
She reflexively looked again at that unknown young man, puzzling over who he could be.
"Is this your first time making that dish?"
Cloud Retainer's voice was as cool and crisp as a mountain spring.
"Yes, the first time." Seino Yaku gave a small smile. When he smiled, his lips curled slightly, and his vivid blue eyes shone with the last light of sunset. "I spent a long time learning it."
His first time making it.
Cloud Retainer studied the unfamiliar boy, lingering in thought.
What happened two thousand and six hundred years ago still puzzled her.
She had tried inquiring about Bosacius from Lex Rapis, but the answers were disappointing: that Bosacius was a sinful immortal, guilty of monstrous crimes, stealing fellow yakshas' lifespans, practicing evil arts until he finally lost control.
If he had truly strayed into madness, then why did he come to say such things in front of her cave that day?
Why had he come to say goodbye?
That was the last time Cloud Retainer ever saw her foolish disciple. The next time, he was lying in a pool of blood, his eyes empty, his body broken into pieces like drifting ashes of moths.
"I'm sorry."
"Apologies."
"But I don't regret it. If I could do it over again, I'd do it the same way."
Was he apologizing for his evil practices? But if he was truly cruel enough to devour his kin's lifespans—coldhearted beyond measure—why bother with an apology?
Or had it all been a performance?
Cloud Retainer had spent two thousand years in confusion and doubt.
She remembered the way he looked when he said those words: head lowered, teeth lightly clenched, shoulders trembling.
Cloud Retainer had never seen Bosacius look that way—well, only back when he was small.
Suffering a grievance, with no one else to hear his complaints, he would come to his master for help.
"I'm an unworthy disciple."
"I'm weak and useless. This is the only way I could think of."
"I will leave as a sinner."
That "way"—what was it…?
Pain. She sensed pain.
Bosacius had always been like that—a withdrawn soul, never revealing his intentions. As a child, or as an adult, he always acted independently. He kept everyone, even his master, in the dark, doing things in secret—and he did them well. He was self-possessed, bound to leave one day.
Bosacius's death…
It was certainly not as simple as it appeared.
That was the only thing Cloud Retainer was sure of.
No matter how she investigated, she found nothing, as though some force had erased every clue—until the arrival of this boy named Seino Yaku.
She didn't know why—maybe just a sixth sense.
But adepts always trusted their intuition.
She felt a sense of warmth from this young man.
His first time making this dish…
So Cloud Retainer mused.
"Master…"
Noticing that Cloud Retainer had been silent for some time, Ganyu tilted her head and spoke softly. "—Are you…?"
But the next moment, Ganyu was astonished.
Her pupils dilated ever so slightly. For the first time, her golden eyes registered open surprise.
Cloud Retainer walked lightly across the rippling water of the lake, approaching the stone table at the water's edge. She hesitated a bit, stood in silence for quite a while, and then gently took a piece of tofu, placing it into her mouth.
Cloud Retainer closed her eyes.
It felt… warm. Perhaps it was the sun's lingering heat cloaking her shoulders as it sank below the horizon, or perhaps it was the warmth flowing down her throat—offering her such a comforting sensation.
Flavor itself was also a memory.
"Ganyu," she said as she slowly opened her eyes, her sky-blue gaze falling upon the girl. She spoke softly, "Perhaps you should taste it too."
Perhaps you should taste it too.
Ganyu was a gentle soul, always obedient, always devoted to her master. She would comply with almost any request her master made. But this time, she refused, shaking her head calmly. In a quiet voice she said:
"…I'll pass."
The final glow of sundown vanished among the mountains' shadows, and night crept in. Early spring's chill blew through the darkness. In that moment, Ganyu firmly and without hesitation declined:
"Sorry, Master."
"You still hold resentment, do you…" Cloud Retainer murmured softly, as though lost in thought. At length, she nodded. "Very well, this is fine."
"This is fine," she repeated.
——
Seino Yaku couldn't quite follow their conversation, but the adeptus had just eaten the soup he prepared…
He had assumed she wouldn't eat it.
He had thought his dish would remain, like an untouched offering, abandoned on the altar, growing cold and lonely.
That would have been a pity, given how much effort he'd put into it.
But now he felt so happy.
Just pure, inexplicable happiness.
He didn't know why, truly.
Though they were strangers, it just gladdened his heart.
He remembered how, when God of the Stove taught little Bosacius to cook, he once said:
> "This is the unique joy of a cook: flavor is memory. The cooking process is the process of simmering memories. No matter how delicious or lovingly prepared a dish is, if no one tastes it, it's just a pile of cold ingredients and hollow seasonings.
>
> Think about when you eat it—morning or evening, at sunset when the sky is lit by dusk, or at dawn when the sunlight washes away the night. Think about who you're making it for. While you cook, you'll naturally imagine: 'Will that person smile when they take a bite? Will it make them happy?' Holding onto those hopes and intentions, you'll be able to cook the fondest memories of all.
>
> Because the person you're willing to cook for must be someone closest to your heart. It's that person who gives true meaning to the blend of ingredients and seasonings—that is memory."
The God of the Stove usually spoke very little. That day, it was rare for him to say so much at once; unfortunately, little Bosacius hadn't understood his meaning.
Now, Seino Yaku could appreciate that sense of it, yet he had long since forgotten those words, and the people who'd said them.
"Young man," came the adeptus's cool voice, pulling Seino Yaku from his thoughts, "what is your name?"
"Seino Yaku," he replied. "'Yaku' is derived from Inazuma's '約束'."
"This name is ordinary," she remarked. Cloud Retainer, though reputedly skilled in conversation, was actually rather blunt. She spoke directly, as if making a sudden pivot without lead-in:
"I am Cloud Retainer."
—"Will you take me as your master?"
Will you take me as your master?
Her tone was level, no hint of force, as though stating a simple fact. Everyone was stunned, frozen in place for a long moment, wondering if they'd heard a hallucination or a joke.
"…What…?" Seino Yaku's lips twitched.
"Will you take me as your master?"
Cloud Retainer repeated.
…Was Master about to take on a disciple again?
Ganyu was surprised.
It sounded absurd, but Cloud Retainer's manner wasn't joking in the slightest. Beneath the pale moonlight reflected in the cypress branches, standing on water in the lunar glow, Cloud Retainer gazed intently at Seino Yaku:
"You are suited to the way of the adepti. If you remain in the mountains to cultivate, perhaps you will be spared the tribulations of the mortal world."
She spoke earnestly: "Then you might not suffer anymore."
She was a genuine adeptus.
Seino Yaku understood what that meant: a marvelous opportunity. For any person of Liyue, they'd have long since fallen to their knees, grateful beyond words.
Yet—
Lumine tugged slightly on his sleeve, murmuring, "The evening's almost over."
It was indeed past dusk. She said no more, only that.
"Dusk…?"
Seino Yaku lowered his head to look at Lumine.
She clutched his sleeve tightly, as though in desperation. Her golden eyes were downcast, reflecting the cold moonlight. She said nothing else, just softly repeating "The evening's almost over," like an anxious little beast lacking a sense of security.
Maybe it would be better if Seino Yaku stayed up here to learn from Cloud Retainer.
That was Lumine's honest thought.
Far away from the human world, leaving everyone else behind—maybe that way, he wouldn't be hurt anymore.
Before Cloud Retainer even tried to convince Seino Yaku, Lumine had convinced herself of it.
Reason told her to be supportive; yet fear gnawed at her. Why…?
She wished he would accept, yet feared he might. Conflicted and contradictory. So she kept silent, only clutching at Seino Yaku's sleeve and lowering her head, whispering, "The evening's almost over…"
Seino Yaku glanced at Lumine, then suddenly gave a soft smile.
She looked strangely adorable in that moment, like a child clinging and whining for candy.
…Cloud Retainer was waiting for Seino Yaku's answer. To be taken as a disciple of the adepti was a grand temptation—an honor—but after a long silence, Seino Yaku finally said:
"Forgive me. I appreciate your great kindness, but I must decline."
"Why?" Cloud Retainer asked.
"Well… because…"
The young man scratched his head. Under the sky where the moonlight and the last of dusk met, he patted Lumine's head, ruffling her hair. "Because the evening's almost ended, and I have a promise with this one."
"I must be home for dinner before dusk."
The words sounded half like a joke, yet Seino Yaku's expression was earnest. "Now that night's fallen, I have to head home for a dinner. I'm just an ordinary person. I'm not fated to live in the mountains."
Lumine lifted her gaze to meet his, her golden pupils flickering. Seino Yaku pinched her cheek. "An ordinary guy has to go home to eat dinner. That's the cook's joy."
He'd already found someone for whom he wanted to cook. So he couldn't remain in the mountains.
"I see."
She had been turned down. Yet, far from offended, Cloud Retainer almost seemed… pleased. "That's fine, then."
That's all right.
"This being the case…" Cloud Retainer went on softly, "Night has already fallen. Even if you descend the mountain at once, you won't reach the city until past midnight."
Indeed.
Seino Yaku frowned, stuck.
"In that case, you might as well spend the night at this immortal's dwelling. Shenhe and Ganyu shall stay, too." The crane smiled. "The dishes on this table I have no interest in eating, but to throw them out would be wasteful. Better that you have them."
"Three dishes aren't enough for four people," Seino Yaku pointed out.
She answered gravely:
"This immortal is all-powerful, in cooking as in all else. Seeing your sincerity, I shall prepare another dish for you in person—made with Glaze Lily from the mountains. Its name is 'Glaze Lily Radish Soup.' Through the purification of the peaks, one who partakes of it may find the path."
Glaze Lily Radish Soup.
That was the dish which, three thousand years ago, she never had the chance to share.
Seino Yaku looked at the crane and felt a faint twinge in his heart.
He didn't know why.
After a moment, he bowed respectfully. "Then I'll accept your kind offer."
So it was decided.
Night had set in fully.
Shenhe was a considerate girl who typically subsisted on mountain dew alongside her master. She had never sampled mortal foods and was somewhat curious. Seeing the stone table covered in dust and overgrowth, she took the initiative to clean it.
Ganyu watched this scene in a daze: Shenhe cleaning the table, her master quietly producing some sort of refined alchemical pot—she called it a modified cooking vessel, powered by electricity, or something she was calling an "electric rice cooker." Meanwhile, Seino Yaku prepared ingredients…
As twilight fell, cooking smoke rose high above the valley.
It was a peaceful sight.
A little voice inside Ganyu whispered that perhaps she should stay, too.
Maybe she should remain.
But in the end, Ganyu chose to leave.
She was the secretary to the Liyue Qixing, and with the Lantern Rite still ongoing, there was much work awaiting her.
She had taken a day off, which already caused considerable delay. She could not linger longer.
Beneath the chilly moonlight, she turned and departed, her shadow cast on the ground by the moon.
Perhaps she missed something that night.