I Became A Hilichurl

"Fresh tangerines, 400 Mora per pound, 3 pounds for 1000 Mora—if they're not sweet, you don't pay!"

"Thirty-year aged Daughter's Red wine—one cup clears the mind, two cups keep you young! Don't miss it if you're passing by!"

"Fresh bamboo shoots, 500 Mora per pound today; beetroots, 200 Mora per pound today; oyster mushrooms, 400 Mora per pound today; fresh shiitake mushrooms, 1000 Mora per pound today—all freshly picked today, guaranteed fresh—"

"Tender, tender eggplants! Soft to the touch, delicious to the taste! Only 200 Mora per pound—get them while they're cheap, don't regret it when the price goes up!"

Haggling, price-checking, and the chatter of a bustling crowd filled the air, peppered with the persistent shouts of sellers who never stopped even in their busiest moments.

This was the North Bridge Produce Market of Liyue. Those who rose early were already returning home with full baskets. The slightly later crowd had to carefully pick through what others had already sorted, lamenting their tardiness.

And even later than those were the last wave of buyers. Only around 9 or 10 AM did the crowd finally begin to thin out.

Then the sellers of wine, tools, ores, and various curiosities would take over the market.

Ivanovich was one of them.

He was a traveling merchant from Snezhnaya. After completing a mountain of paperwork with Liyue's Ministry of Civil Affairs, he'd secured the rights to a stall in the North Bridge Produce Market.

He mainly sold daily necessities imported from Snezhnaya, and also acted as a proxy distributor for Liyue's Cor Lapis merchants—reselling to factories back home.

Every shipment he brought sold out quickly, and the Cor Lapis business brought in a decent profit. He had begun considering settling in Liyue, at least to open a proper storefront.

As usual, he was agonizing over it this morning, when he went to a breakfast stand diagonally across from his stall and bought two large steamed buns.

Then came more hesitation.

From his observations, these breakfast stalls in the market were definitely the most profitable.

There had even been times when the stalls ran out of ingredients early and passed customers to one another out of necessity.

Eventually, they increased their ingredient stock, and now they operated from morning till noon... Every vendor in the market shouted their wares—except the breakfast stalls.

Well, that was a long time ago. Ivanovich had only heard the shouts once: "Savory crepes, meat buns, soy milk and fried dough sticks!" It had a catchy rhyme to it, so he remembered it.

And yet, despite their profitability, not a single breakfast stall had opened a proper storefront.

Location was a big factor. Most of his customers only bought from him because they happened to pass by while grocery shopping. If he moved, he wasn't sure he'd have the same volume.

Thinking thus, he returned to his stall and happened to glance back at the breakfast stand where he'd bought the buns.

There he saw a figure cloaked in a white-outside, black-inside cape. The cloak's hood was lined with fur. Born in Snezhnaya, Ivanovich knew that kind of fur wasn't for warmth—it was designed to block the wind and snow from the face and neck. But in Liyue's mild climate, it was unnecessary.

He looked again. The person was delicately holding a jianbing with long, slender hands. As she lowered her head to take a bite, Ivanovich caught a glimpse of her pale chin and icy-blue-almost-white hair cascading along her cheek.

It all looked very familiar. Didn't the Fatui Harbingers wear similar attire? Though theirs were military coats, and this was a cloak.

"Cloak... cloak…"

He remembered.

He had seen the Fatui Harbingers several times—but the Tsaritsa, the Winter Tsar, only once, and from a great distance.

That was the day before Snezhnaya's army was dispatched across Teyvat. In the country's largest square, the Tsaritsa had personally come to send off the soldiers, accompanied by all eleven Harbingers.

He had been among the onlookers that day. Even from afar, he hadn't dared look directly at her face. Every time his eyes brushed past her, he averted his gaze. In the end, all he remembered was the white-and-black cloak and that flowing icy hair.

"No way?!" he gasped aloud.

The Winter Tsar—here in Liyue?! Impossible!

He rubbed his eyes and looked again toward the breakfast stall.

She was gone.

He snapped to full alert, eyes wide, scanning every inch of the North Bridge Produce Market and its surroundings.

There were still many people, but that cloak was quite distinctive. Still, he found nothing.

"Must've been a mistake."

With a self-mocking smile, Ivanovich devoured his steamed buns quickly and prepared for his first customer...

Liyue Harbor—the largest trading port in Teyvat. From northwest to southeast, its dockfront stretched twenty kilometers.

As the saying goes: All sails pass through Liyue Harbor.

At all hours of the day, ships from every corner of the world came and went—resting, unloading, resupplying. Alongside the docks had sprouted countless businesses. The flow of Mora in this area daily was astronomical.

From the North Bridge Produce Market, heading southeast along the dockside road, one would reach the "Far East Pier." Liyue's two super-sized piers were both to the east, and locals called the southeasternmost one the "Far East Pier" to distinguish it.

Shops and stalls lined the road from the market to the pier. The white-cloaked woman strode in five- or ten-meter paces, casually admiring the sights as she nibbled on her savory crepe. Strangely, none of the other pedestrians seemed to notice her.

Soon, she finished eating, brushed the crumbs from her hands, and picked up speed.

She was searching for someone. She could sense his presence in Liyue Harbor—but it was everywhere. For such a vast city, finding one man would be troublesome.

Good thing she wasn't an ordinary person.

She wasn't sure if he was hiding on purpose… What a ridiculous thought, she chuckled inwardly. No one could ever force him to hide.

But if he did decide to go into hiding, he'd be very hard to find. She might have to resort to extreme methods. Not her preference—but at this point, she didn't really mind.

She reached the Far East Pier but found no trace of him. So, she turned back, this time walking the central avenue of Liyue Harbor.

"Candied hawthorns! Sweet and sour candied hawthorns!"

An elderly man with snow-white hair brushed past her, pushing a small wooden cart. Atop it was a straw dummy studded with glossy red hawthorns coated in hardened sugar—visually appetizing.

"Excuse me, I'll take a stick of hawthorn," she called out after a brief pause.

"Eh?"

The old man turned and was stunned. How did I miss such a lovely girl earlier?

He picked the fullest, glossiest skewer of candied hawthorns and handed it to her carefully.

"Do you know the Northland Bank?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

The old man thought about his son, who was at marrying age. If he could marry such a beauty, the whole neighborhood would envy us… maybe I should ask for her contact info?

"I didn't bring any Mora," she said. "Put it on the Northland Bank's tab. Just say it was the Fair Lady. They'll settle it."

"Oh—n-no need for that. Just consider it my treat."

He hesitated, then gave up. How could my son be worthy of her?

"I can't accept that. Life isn't easy for you either. How about this—go to the Northland Bank and give everyone there a stick of hawthorn. Put it all on the Fair Lady's account. They'll pay you, and you'll be done selling early."

He felt like she was bluffing. But her sincere gaze made him nod.

"Thanks, young lady. I'll head to the Northland Bank, then."

He turned his cart. Maybe he could walk a bit further with her... but in the time it took him to pivot, she had vanished.

Later, after she finished the skewer and had already walked a third of the way back down the central avenue, the white-cloaked woman couldn't find a trash bin. She froze the wooden stick into an icicle, then scattered it into fine, sparkling shards.

What a lively place, she mused.

Crossing the grand bridge that connected Liyue Harbor's northern and southern districts, she noticed his aura had grown stronger.

She followed the trail, turning left, then heading straight until she arrived at a quiet, little-frequented building. The aura was strongest here. She knocked.

"Customer!"

A lively girl with twin red-brown ponytails, wearing a peculiar hat adorned with a crimson plum blossom, and sporting matching plum-blossom pupils, opened the door.

"Hello! Welcome! Are you here for personal services or on someone else's behalf?"

"I'm looking for someone."

The girl's enthusiasm deflated. "You're not here for Zhongli too, are you?"

"Zhongli?"

"He's our guest consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Knows practically everything. He's gained some fame just from wandering around. Nine out of ten people who show up here are looking for him."

"I am indeed looking for someone like that."

"Then that makes it ten out of ten."

She sighed dramatically, then her eyes sparkled again. "He's not here right now, but I do know where he went. If you'd like to know… how about doing a little business with us?"

"What kind of services do you offer?"

"Full-service funerals. Corpse pickup, mourning announcements, spirit guidance, casket and burial—all-inclusive. We're running a special: buy one, get one free!"

"Hmm..." The white-cloaked woman pondered seriously. "I won't need the funeral, but I do need eleven… no, twelve coffins. They must be cold-resistant—and aesthetically pleasing."

Hu Tao's eyes lit up and she was about to agree.

"But they'll be shipped to Snezhnaya. Free shipping?"

"Ah... That far, and that heavy? With shipping, there's no profit left."

"Shipping alone costs more than the coffins. If you don't cover it, why should I waste Mora?"

"Fine, fine." Hu Tao pouted and pointed. "Zhongli's upstairs in that teahouse, listening to a storyteller. Go find him yourself."

"Thank you."

With two swift movements, the white cloak vanished from Hu Tao's sight.

And sure enough, there he was—sitting by the window upstairs.

Hidden in plain sight.

She considered for a moment, then sat across from him.

"Senior, have you made any plans?"

He lifted his steaming tea and sipped. "When soldiers arrive, meet them with arms. When water comes, build a dam."

Behind her, the storyteller's voice rose: "The Archon once declared: 'Though gods and demons rise together in this world, I do not seek the throne—but I know the suffering of mortals.'"

Such imposing words… "Then may I borrow your Gnosis?"

A blunt shift. Straight to the point. No need for pretense.

"Let's make a trade."

"All right."

…

Shortly after transferring from Mondstadt to Liyue, the Fair Lady received a brief missive from the Tsaritsa. Just five words:

Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Zhongli.

And also... a stack of inexplicable receipts piling up at the Northland Bank.