At Wangshu Inn in Liyue Harbor, when Li Mo began to tell the story on stage, all the listeners in the inn fell silent, listening intently to the tale of the eleventh life. Even La Signora, upon hearing the names Rostam, the Young Wolf, and Arundolyn, sank into deep recollection. Her expression flickered with surprise. She had not expected the storyteller to know such details—even the fact that Rostam had often been troubled by administrative affairs.
She set aside her arrogance and mockery and grew serious, listening carefully, watching the storyteller on stage. For some reason, as she watched him, she felt a growing sense of familiarity, as if she had seen a familiar shadow in him. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not remember who he resembled.
Where had she seen him before? She gave up trying to remember. At this point, aside from the Tsaritsa, who had shown her kindness, the only person La Signora cared about was Rostam.
Meanwhile, in another corner, Ei watched Shenhe invite La Signora to sit with her, her feelings complicated. She kept glancing at them.
Then, suddenly, she turned to Zhongli. "Morax, do you know what love is?"
Zhongli's expression remained indifferent.
Ei blinked. "Never mind. You're just a heartless stone—asking you is pointless. I might as well ask Yae Miko."
The next moment, the three Electro sisters, Barbatos, and Yae Miko all turned their attention to the stage. Only Zhongli remained expressionless, as if he cared about nothing. He slowly raised his cup, took a sip of tea, and leisurely looked up at the storyteller.
But no one noticed the faint, barely perceptible trace of sadness in his usually indifferent eyes.
...
Meanwhile, on stage, after introducing Rostam's situation, Li Mo did not pause. He continued.
As he spoke, the Electro energy above the inn began to gather, forming vivid projections. The image showed Rostam sitting in his office at the Knights of Favonius, staring at a mountain of documents. He did not complain, but worry was written all over his face. Anyone could see his frustration.
"Damn it, Arundolyn. We agreed to handle Mondstadt's affairs together, yet you sneaked out of the city with the Knights again, leaving all this work to me."
He grumbled about Arundolyn's irresponsibility as he reached for the documents, reading them one by one, making decisions and annotations.
Just as he was frowning and on the verge of a headache, a commotion came from outside the office, making it even harder to concentrate. He put down his work and called in the knight guarding the door.
"What's all that noise outside?"
Hearing his voice, a knight in armor, a sword at his waist, entered cautiously. Seeing Rostam's furrowed brows, the knight immediately judged that this Deputy Grand Master was not easy to deal with. He would have to tread carefully.
"Deputy Grand Master, what are your orders?" the knight asked softly.
Rostam frowned again and repeated, "What's happening outside? Why all the commotion?"
Beyond the office lay the central square of Mondstadt, where people usually strolled or children played. Recently, a bard had appeared there, playing and singing. But it should not have been this noisy—clapping and cheering, unceasing.
Was it the crowd cheering for the bard? No, that was impossible. Rostam had heard the bard's music a few days ago. Though the melodies were pleasant and the singing was beautiful, the lyrics were all old, outdated tales. Common folk would not appreciate such songs.
Hearing the Deputy Grand Master's question, the knight replied cautiously, "Your subordinate does not know exactly what is happening. I only know someone is singing in the square. It seems to be very beautiful, and the people seem to love it."
As he answered, he looked up and saw the Deputy Grand Master's brows still knitted.
Rostam asked again, "Is it that same bard singing old songs?"
The knight quickly replied, "No, Deputy Grand Master. It's a stranger—a young maiden, newly arrived from Sumeru, I'm told."
A young maiden who could sing? Newly arrived from Sumeru?
Hearing this, Rostam frowned even more. He glanced at the papers on his desk. "Come. Let us see who is so popular."
The knight quickly answered, "Yes, sir."
So, setting aside his work, Rostam led the knight out of the office into the square.
The moment he stepped outside, he was startled by the sea of people—even more than when welcoming a knight's procession. Was a song worth such a commotion?
But as he stepped into the square, a faint, beautiful melody reached his ears. The song praised freedom, brave knights, hardworking people, and determined adventurers. Every good thing in the world seemed to be woven into that melody.
Even Rostam, the Deputy Grand Master of the Knights, was captivated. In that song, he seemed to hear his own long‑forgotten dream—the dream of becoming a knight, a hero.
The knight beside him remarked, "Deputy Grand Master, can you hear it? What a beautiful song. The maiden singing in the square must be very lovely, don't you think?"
He said this with a hint of longing in his eyes.
Rostam replied flatly, "Of course I can hear it. I'm not deaf."