At Wangshu Inn in Liyue Harbor, Li Mo told the story seriously on stage while the audience listened intently below.
At the beginning of the eleventh life's tale, the listeners had not been particularly interested. After all, to the people of Liyue, neither Rostam, the Deputy Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius from five hundred years ago, nor La Signora, the Fatui Harbinger of the present, were familiar figures. They had little interest in their stories and even resented them for delaying the tale of Rex Lapis.
But as the narrative unfolded, the audience encountered the familiar monster invasion and the reappearance of Barbatos, the Anemo Archon. Gradually, their interest grew. Moreover, many had a strong feeling that the storyteller was about to break their hearts once again.
"Impressive—the Knights of Favonius really held back the monster tide with just the Grand Master and his knights."
"Barbatos was too busy slacking off. He did nothing and still came out on top."
"How can you say that? He went to Khaenri'ah personally. He must have done a lot."
"Oh no—Durin from the fourth life is coming. Rostam is doomed."
"The fourth life versus the eleventh—the ultimate showdown."
"Sigh, knowing the storyteller's cruel habits, he'll probably kill off both Rostam and Durin, leaving Barbatos to clean up the mess."
"Barbatos goes all out!"
"What a pity for this love story. They had already made their vows and exchanged tokens of love, and then this disaster struck."
"I'm starting to understand why Rosalyne became La Signora."
...
When they heard that Arundolyn and the Knights of Favonius had held back the monster invasion, the people of Liyue were quite surprised. After all, Liyue Harbor had needed to commit all its forces—even Rex Lapis himself taking the field—to stop the monsters. Even if Mondstadt's geography made it more isolated and the monster tide was smaller, holding them back with only the Knights was no small feat.
Moreover, when the audience saw Barbatos and Dvalin heading back to Mondstadt, everyone knew that Durin was about to appear. Rostam was in trouble.
Not only the audience—in a corner of the inn, La Signora looked up at the projections above the stage. She saw her parting with Rostam five hundred years ago and saw the tokens they had exchanged. All her arrogance and pride had vanished, replaced by an aching melancholy.
Just then, she reached a trembling hand into her bosom and withdrew a rusted, time-worn water clock. It had long since stopped working; the hands had spun countless rounds over five hundred years before finally ceasing. Yet for five centuries, she had kept it with her always, cradling it like a lover. Even after discarding the name Rosalyne and becoming La Signora of the Fatui, she had never thrown it away. It was the witness to their love, their token of promise.
Seeing this, Shenhe, who understood her pain all too well, glanced at Li Mo on stage, then at La Signora's downcast expression, and sighed. She could imagine how overjoyed La Signora would be if she knew her knight Rostam was still alive—right here, telling their story.
But Shenhe also knew she could not yet reveal Li Mo's secret. So she could only take La Signora's hand and say earnestly, "Rosalyne, don't worry. Your knight has not abandoned you. He will appear before you soon."
As a disciple of Cloud Retainer, Shenhe had learned her master's adeptal arts but not her gift for conversation. She was not good at comforting others. She could only hold La Signora's hand, hoping to steady her emotions and keep her from doing something rash.
Before her, La Signora heard Shenhe's comforting words and felt the warmth of her hand. She wanted to throw herself into Shenhe's arms and weep, to cry out her beloved's name. But she was not only Rosalyne—she was also La Signora, a Fatui Harbinger. Her position would not permit such reckless behavior.
So she forced herself to hide her feelings, to bury them deep within her heart once more. But the emotions she had held for five hundred years could not be so easily concealed.
Not only Shenhe, but Keqing, Hu Tao, Xiangling, and even Qiqi could sense the shift in La Signora's heart. Gradually, they began to pity this hateful woman. Even the ever‑whimsical Hu Tao sighed, her expression turning unusually serious.
"Poor Rosalyne. Knowing the storyteller's habits, that knight is probably not going to make it. Though it's been five hundred years... well, I think Rostam deserves a proper funeral."
The moment she spoke, La Signora turned and shot her a vicious glare. "You—are you looking for death?"
Just as she was thinking of Rostam, someone had the audacity to suggest a funeral. She was furious.
Seeing this, Xiangling quickly interjected, "Ah, don't be angry. Hu Tao means no harm—she's in the funeral business and can't help marketing her services."
Keqing added, "She's not a bad person."
La Signora's expression turned icy. "Hmph. Rostam will return. He needs no funeral."
Hu Tao looked disappointed. "Alright, then."
La Signora: "…"
...
Just then, Li Mo on stage took a sip of tea and resumed his storytelling. As he spoke, the Electro projections above the inn shifted once more, drawing everyone's attention.
In the images, a great green dragon soared across the sky, and beneath it lay the ruins of Khaenri'ah. Endless flames burned. The once‑prosperous capital had been reduced to rubble. The earth was shattered. Countless monsters emerged, swarming out in all directions.
During those days in Khaenri'ah, Barbatos had not been idle. He and Dvalin had hunted down countless monsters, slaying most that had been heading for Mondstadt. Only a few managed to slip past Dvalin's claws and escape toward the city.