Xander hadn't anticipated Ningguang's swift move to hunt the broadcast's origins.
Her wealth could summon a legion of adventurers to scour Teyvat for clues.
Yet, unless he slipped up, no one would ever pin the Second Creation Broadcast on him.
The thought of her lavish rewards tempted him to abandon pride for an easier life.
Who could resist a stunning, Mora-rich patron like the Tianquan?
Still, as a traveler from beyond, coasting on handouts felt beneath his cosmic journey.
He'd rather chase grand tales than settle for a cushioned existence.
"I'll take the Feiyun heir's job, that Mora's as good as mine," he decided.
Xander chose Xingqiu's commission, a spark of confidence igniting within.
In his old world, he'd dabbled in writing, crafting tales too rough to boast.
But he'd devoured countless stories, a library of ideas ripe for Teyvat's soil.
Surely, he could spin a few concepts worth 40,000 or 50,000 Mora.
Mora here came in sizes: small for one, medium for ten, large for a hundred.
Each coin matched a soft currency from his past, a familiar weight in his palm.
With the contract secured, he left the Adventurers' Guild, bound for Feiyun's heart.
Kathryn watched him go, her brow furrowing beneath her perfect smile.
"Feiyun's second miss? Xingqiu's no lady," she murmured, puzzled.
The notion of Xingqiu hiding his gender tickled her artificial mind.
She shook it off, a glitch in her logic she couldn't quite unravel.
Feiyun Chamber of Commerce towered over Liyue, a titan of trade and influence.
Its prime spot on Main Street pulsed with the city's vibrant lifeblood.
Beyond wealth, Feiyun wielded moral clout few dared to challenge.
Only the boldest thieves risked crossing their well-guarded wares.
Xander strode in, spotting Ashton, a familiar face among the staff.
"Ashton, I'm here for your second heir's commission, is he around?" he asked.
He'd run errands for Feiyun before, earning a casual rapport with the crew.
Ashton blinked, confusion creasing his brow, "Second miss? We've no miss here."
Xander grinned, "I mean Xingqiu, isn't he your second heir?"
Ashton's mouth twitched, a laugh barely contained, "Xingqiu's our young master, not a lady."
He couldn't fault the mix-up, Xingqiu's grace often blurred the lines.
With a sigh, Ashton led Xander upstairs to a room thick with ink and parchment.
Xingqiu hunched over a desk, manuscripts sprawling like a battlefield.
"Young master, someone's taken your commission," Ashton announced.
Xingqiu's head snapped up, his eyes gleaming with sudden revelation.
"By the Archons, why didn't I see it sooner?" he exclaimed, slapping his forehead.
"A traveler from another world must carry tales beyond Teyvat's ken!" he reasoned.
He waved Ashton off and pulled Xander to a seat, eagerness radiating.
Ashton retreated downstairs, leaving them to their literary dance.
Xingqiu's novels charmed Liyue's readers, a rising star in ink.
Yet, his stories clung to old frames, craving a fresh wind to break free.
"What wonders does your world hold, Xander, in its tales and dreams?" he asked.
"Surely, alien skies birth stories we've never dared to imagine," he pressed.
He poised his quill, a student hungry for a master's wisdom.
Xander's name had reached him, whispers of a stranger from afar.
"Ahem, you've picked the right man for a tale or two," Xander began.
He cleared his throat, settling into the role with a storyteller's poise.
"In my homeland, stories bloom like wildflowers, vast and untamed," he said.
"Anyone can weave their soul into words, a craft for all to claim," he added.
"I'm no scribe, but I've roamed through genres since I was a boy."
"Cityscapes, immortal quests, fantastical realms, warrior sagas, star-bound voyages."
"Magic and steel, other worlds, time leaps, reborn lives, ancient chronicles."
"Spiritual awakenings, eerie horrors, and more, a tapestry without end."
"Teyvat's tales are but seedlings compared to that boundless field."
"Their scope and depth lag, yet the potential here burns bright."
Xander spun a vivid overview, painting his world's literary sprawl.
Xingqiu scribbled furiously, his quill racing to capture each gem.
Urban jungles of towering stone, where mortals vied for fleeting power.
Immortal seekers climbing peaks of eternity, defying the heavens' wrath.
Fantastical lands where dragons soared and magic wove the air.
Warriors clashing in arenas of honor, their blades singing of valor.
Starships piercing the void, crewed by dreamers chasing distant suns.
Realms where sorcery met steel, forging heroes in crucible flames.
Worlds beyond Teyvat's stars, each a mirror to stranger fates.
Time travelers rewriting eras, reborn souls seizing second chances.
Chronicles of kings and rebels, etched in the dust of fallen empires.
Lands where dormant spirits awoke, reshaping a slumbering age.
And shadows where eldritch whispers birthed tales of dread and wonder.
Xingqiu's eyes widened, each idea a spark to his creative ember.
"Your world's stories dwarf ours, a library of infinite dreams!" he marveled.
Xander leaned back, savoring the awe in the young heir's gaze.
He'd plucked these threads from memory, tales Teyvat had never known.
Forty thousand Mora felt paltry for the wealth he'd just unleashed.
Xingqiu's quill danced, sketching outlines from Xander's vivid lore.
A tale of a city lord, ruling spires of glass with cunning and steel.
Another of an immortal duelist, carving destiny atop a storm-lit peak.
A dragon-rider's saga, soaring through skies of molten gold.
Xander watched, amused, as Xingqiu's muse ignited with fervor.
"These will shake Liyue's shelves, tales no one's dared to dream!" Xingqiu vowed.
He paused, glancing up, "You've more, don't you? Don't hold back!"
Xander chuckled, "Plenty, but let's pace it, lest your quill snaps."
The room hummed with possibility, ink binding their worlds together.
Outside, Liyue thrummed, unaware of the stories brewing within.
Xander's mind drifted to the broadcast, its next jest still unformed.
Keqing's threads sat in his inventory, a silent taunt of his last draw.
He'd weave another soon, stirring Teyvat's pot with fresh chaos.
For now, he basked in Xingqiu's zeal, a quiet victory in words.
The Shadowfang Blade rested at his side, a partner in his unseen game.
Feiyun's halls gleamed with wealth, a fitting stage for this exchange.
Xander's tale-spinning earned his keep, Mora piling with each nod.
Xingqiu scribbled on, a disciple to a traveler's boundless muse.
***
Support me on Patreon to read 50+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/Nocturnal_Breeze