Mondstadt buzzed with confusion, heads scratching in the streets.
When had the Knights snagged those Sumeru yaks?
No whispers, no rumors—just a silent coup.
Surely hauling such beasts would've sparked chatter en route.
Yet here they stood, a transport team unveiled from thin air.
"It's unreal—how'd they pull this off?" a baker wondered aloud.
"Which knights trekked to Sumeru for these?" a guard mused.
"Sumeru's the wisdom land, right? Little Grass King rules there," a kid piped up.
"Bet it's a slick kingdom—smart folks, big brains," a florist nodded.
A know-it-all elbowed in, brimming with gossip.
"Not just any knights—my aunt's cousin's sister's brother spilled it," he bragged.
"Wind Knight Ye Ruo went solo to Sumeru and fetched 'em," he declared.
Shock rippled through the crowd, jaws hitting the cobblestones.
"No way—one guy?" a smith gaped, eyes wide.
"He's a ghost—slips in and out unseen," a seamstress marveled.
"Wind Knight's the best we've got—pure legend!" a brewer cheered.
Ye Ruo's name ignited awe, a spark fanning their pride.
From novels to knightly feats, he dazzled without pause.
Versatility defined him—scribe and sword in one.
Suspicion brewed anew—too grand for mortal bounds.
"Could he be Barbatos undercover?" a merchant whispered.
"No normal kid shines this bright," a guard agreed.
Voices drifted to Ye Ruo, carried on the breeze.
He stood still, a faint smile tracing his lips.
The Knights' rise warmed him—a vow kept alive.
Falga's trust weighed on him, a bond forged in youth.
That burly Grand Master had sheltered him, taught him.
A mentor, a father—Falga shaped his path.
Ye Ruo grew among comrades, roots sinking deep.
Mondstadt was home, his heart's true haven.
This city embraced all—strays and wanderers alike.
Amber's granddad, a Liyue sellsword, found refuge here.
Rescued by knights, he built the recon squad from scratch.
A family bloomed—Amber his living legacy.
Jean's father, Simon Page, roamed as a famed adventurer.
He settled in Mondstadt, climbing the church's ranks.
Cardinal of Dawn—his title rang with glory.
Kaeya hailed from lost Khaenri'ah, a shadowed orphan.
Now he led cavalry, a captain carved from grit.
Vanessa herself wasn't native—yet she freed them.
Outsiders wove Mondstadt's tapestry, threads of fate.
Ye Ruo fit that mold—a soul claimed by wind.
He dreamed of its prosperity, evergreen and free.
Popularity spiked—his novels hit harder this time.
"Second volume's a banger—outpacing the first," he grinned.
"Thirty exquisite chests now, pushing forty soon," he calculated.
"Halfway there—solid progress," he nodded to himself.
The third volume would crack the next tier wide open.
A Liyue branch loomed—plans simmering hot.
He'd been swamped, neglecting an old friend there.
Time to draw—treasure called his name.
"System, ten exquisite chests—let's roll," he commanded.
Lights flared, chests popped, a symphony of gleam.
Notifications chimed, prizes flooding his mind.
Momotaro rice balls kicked it off—five in tow.
"Perfect—Twarin's snack stash grows," he beamed.
Mora followed—thirty thousand, then fifty more.
Another thirty thousand piled on—loose change.
A bamboo dragonfly emerged, quaint and odd.
"Childhood vibes, but useless now," he shrugged.
Ten steam guns clattered in, magazines loaded.
Three long-side tigers roared into view—feline flair.
Two gunpowder spears landed—old-school clunkers.
A seduction handbook surfaced—some uncle's playbook.
Five red herbs capped it—medicinal hues.
Ye Ruo's eyes lit at the rice balls' promise.
Twarin's favor hinged on these tasty bribes.
The bamboo dragonfly? A nostalgic dud.
He could fly with wind—why bother with toys?
Steam guns caught his eye—Kabaneri relics.
Iron Fortress born, they outgunned spears handily.
Still, they paled next to Fatui muskets.
"Antiques—cute, but Teyvat's moved on," he snorted.
Ruin guards patrolled with missile barrages.
Tech here outstripped his old world's dreams.
No low-tech backwater—robots proved it.
Catherine's clockwork shell? Pure genius.
Sumeru's Void linked minds, downloading lore.
Humai-whatsit, holy networks—black magic stuff.
Teyvat's progress roared, wild and unchecked.
A tree hosted it all—fuel for some pyre.
Red herbs paired with green—Resident Evil stock.
Healing never hurt—more the merrier.
The seduction manual earned a dry laugh.
"Steel straight here—no need for that," he scoffed.
Long-side tigers prowled—sleek, striped loot.
The system pulsed, Ye Ruo's fame a rising gale.
His haul grew wild—Mondstadt watched, entranced.
***
Support me on Patreon to read 50+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/Nocturnal_Breeze