Genshin Impact: The Sharpshooter of Teyvat

Chapter 126: Chapter 126: Zhongli and the Man with the Top Hat: A Night Talk



Night had fallen.

Outside the Hall of Pillars, the world seemed wrapped in a veil of deep blue silk, as though the sky itself had lowered its head to embrace Liyue in solemn stillness.

Zhongli, ever calm as a mountain, stood quietly by the railing. His eyes gazed far beyond the carved eaves and glazed tiles, into the vast, star-scattered sky above Liyue.

Moonlight, cool and silvery, poured over him—cloaking his dignified figure in an ethereal sheen.

Then, a strange wind stirred.

It carried an unnatural scent, brushing lightly across Zhongli's face.

He lowered his brows slightly. He knew—that mysterious figure had arrived.

Footsteps echoed, deliberate and sharp, the clicking of polished shoes against stone. The rhythm was precise, measured—a melody of intent.

The top-hatted man walked with hands behind his back, composed and deliberate, as if every stride had been calculated.

When he reached Zhongli's side, he stopped. The two stood shoulder to shoulder.

Zhongli did not look at him. He continued gazing at the stars, his voice steady and deep.

"I am Zhongli. May I ask for your name, sir?"

The top-hatted man replied flatly, "I don't know it myself. I'm an accountant—that's the only name I go by."

They stood in silence, watching the stars shimmer over Liyue like jewels scattered across a velvet canvas.

Zhongli seemed immersed in that tranquil world, removed from the noise and chaos of mortals.

Each star burned with its own light—some bright, some dim, some large, some faint—but all uniquely beautiful. It was the kind of beauty that pulled the heart into stillness.

"Why do you all love staring at that ragged curtain so much?" the man in the top hat asked, his tone laced with dry amusement.

He was referring, of course, to the night sky—vast and holy in others' eyes, but to him, it was nothing more than a worn veil, something a stray bird might tear with a wing.

Zhongli gave no answer. His gaze remained fixed on the stars, drawn by something beyond words.

Seeing this, the top-hatted man made no further remarks. He merely stood there, still and silent, studying Zhongli's profile.

After a while, Zhongli nodded slightly, finally pulling his gaze away and turning toward his enigmatic companion.

There was a serene composure in his expression, as though used to being watched—even by beings like this.

"You saw my face earlier, didn't you?" the top-hatted man asked, voice polite and almost modest.

Earlier that day, Zhongli had peered with divine sight at Shao Yun's shadow, and though the entity had hidden itself quickly, the man was sure Zhongli had caught a glimpse.

Zhongli gave a small nod—admitting it. His expression was calm, unbothered, as though it had been expected all along.

The man seemed impressed by his poise. He offered a courteous nod. "Out of courtesy, I thought I should come see you. You surprised me today."

There was genuine respect in his tone, a candid equality between them. Zhongli acknowledged it with a faint incline of his head.

Then, with a sudden shift, the man added:

"However, I must correct you. That mirror you mentioned—it might just be a windowpane."

Zhongli turned slightly to face him. "May I ask something bluntly—do you pose a threat to Liyue?"

The man tilted his head, eyes seeming to stretch beyond time and space, northward.

He chuckled. "That little peppermint-scented boy asked me something similar. And look at Mondstadt—it's just fine."

Zhongli's brow furrowed slightly at the name.

"Barbatos…" he murmured to himself.

The man smirked, following up with another subtle push.

"As I've said, I'm merely an accountant. You should focus on that cowboy. His actions are the ones that could truly shape Liyue—not mine."

Zhongli's frown deepened. He could sense the temptation in those words, the deliberate sway.

The words were charming, dangerous—designed to turn him against Shao Yun.

He took a deep breath and redirected the conversation.

"Would you mind chatting with me? I find you... strangely amicable."

Surprise flickered in the man's eyes, but he recovered quickly. He gave a nod of approval.

"You've got spirit. Not many can keep their head when talking to me."

He nodded again. "I'd be happy to chat. I'm always open to conversation."

But then, with caution, he added:

"Are you sure you want to ask me questions?"

Zhongli smiled slightly, eyes filled with a knowing glint.

"The road ahead is long and winding. I'll search high and low for truth. Whatever the cost—I will try."

The man studied Zhongli's unwavering gaze. He couldn't help but admire his dignity and grace.

"Very well," he said. "You've made your choice. Ask. I'll answer to the best of my ability."

The white jade rail beneath them shimmered under moonlight.

Zhongli turned his head slightly and posed his question.

"What is the Heavenly Principle—the highest will of this world—doing? Is it watching us?"

The man didn't answer directly. Instead, he looked up at the brilliant stars above and said softly:

"The author is asleep. Don't wake it. Its slumber is good for everyone."

In other words—the Heavenly Principle isn't watching. Don't worry about it.

Zhongli was silent a moment longer, then asked a sharper question.

"Will Shao Yun become something more terrifying than the Abyss?"

The man gave a faint, enigmatic smile.

"Instead of soothing a far-off god of death, you should flatter the outlaw beside you. When both meet—it'll be too late."

Zhongli frowned again. The words were layered—part warning, part riddle.

He took a breath and asked the next.

"If I decide to kill Shao Yun—will you stop me?"

The man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he glanced toward Feiyun Slope—where Shao Yun was.

"You're a clever man. You already know the answer. But life—life is precious. Don't waste it."

There was no threat in his voice, only unshakable calm.

Zhongli's heart stirred. Something inexplicable tightened in his chest.

Then, the final question:

"One last thing—can you be killed?"

The man's smile curved wider, mischief and danger blending in his eyes.

"I'm right beside you. You can try. Maybe you'll succeed."

He was baiting him—daring him to strike.

Zhongli felt a dangerous impulse rise.

But he held it back. Attacking without understanding would be the height of folly.

He forced the urge down.

"I'm done."

The man paused. He wasn't in a hurry to leave. He glanced at his pocket watch, then offered:

"Today is my lucky day. Thirteenth. Let me give you one more answer—to make it five."

There was something secretive in his voice.

He let Zhongli decide whether to listen.

Zhongli furrowed his brow, uncertain.

But in the end, four or five made little difference.

"Very well. I'll hear your bonus answer."

The man smiled faintly and pointed toward Feiyun Slope.

"He is a deer. But I can't guarantee he won't become a wolf. He's lucky—so long as Eliza and Isaac's fates don't fall upon him, everything will be fine."

His voice was low and deep, piercing straight through the soul.

Zhongli felt his unease grow. He looked where the man had pointed, searching for meaning. But all he saw were rooftops.

He turned back to ask, "What do you mean?"

But the man was gone.

He had vanished in the blink of an eye, as if he'd never existed at all.

Zhongli scanned the area, but there was no trace.

He sighed heavily.

"Damn it."

He stared into the empty night, brows furrowed.

Every word from that man seemed to contain some hidden truth, a message cloaked in metaphor.

The phrase—"He is a deer, but he might become a wolf"—weighed heavily on his mind.

He paced slowly, eyes sweeping the horizon.

Deer: gentle, kind.

Wolf: wild, brutal.

What lay between the two?

And who—or what—was waiting to cross that line?


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