From an old, worn-out bag:
A set of car keys
The keys are rusted from lack of use. One wonders if their owner has plans to replace them. Thankfully, the key fob still works, and the car does as well.
A marked map
A map of Liyue with various locations marked in red, retrieved from A-12-1 in Yujing Terrace beneath the prying eyes of the Qixing. A set of systematic notes are found written around the map’s borders. The writer’s hand is steady, but what is more impressive are her organisational skills, once the envy of her colleagues.
If not for the help of the masked men, prowling about the place as if searching for something, this map might have never seen the light of day.
Thermos flask
A typical flask, slightly dented on one side. Placed in a knitted sleeve with clumsy stitches, the only remaining evidence of its owner’s brief stint with needlework. An essential item during the winter months, and especially during this once-in-a-century blizzard.
A tea brick
The paper covering is dusty, but the real treasure wrapped in it remains undisturbed. Made by pressing tea leaves into a mould. In ancient times, this would suffice as currency, but the modern world prefers standardisation. If anything, it fits into a decently large pocket.
Switchblade
A useful tool for traversing the wilderness, or for self-defence. If all goes well, the blade will remain untouched, though a quick glance at it reveals that it is newly sharpened.
Tape recorder
Dug up from the depths of an attic. Aside from producing an irritating buzzing, it works well enough. Some are still of the opinion that analogue media is a more permanent form of preservation.
Phone
An old model. Its battery is damaged, but the owner’s infrequent usage of it has ensured its continued employment. The screen is cracked, and it has a tendency to whir strangely at intervals. Its sturdiness, however, has earned it a permanent spot in its owner’s inventory, if not as a reliable way of communication, then as an emergency bludgeon when stuffed in a sock.
Old journal
Written with a brush and ink, its cover is wrapped in plastic wrap. The pages are yellowing but still remain firmly attached to its spine. There is no doubt about the value of the memories recorded within it, though it is unlikely that anybody who comes across it will be able to recognise the archaic script.
Recorded on a phone. The model is too old to be recognised.
[The camera pans to a bamboo forest, covered in an early morning frost. The entire landscape glitters in the sunlight, casting an ephemeral shimmer over the scene.]
[If not for its secluded location, this place would perhaps be a popular tourist spot. A stream, now unfrozen, runs through the foreground, bubbling gently. On the other side of the stream, the bamboo slowly gives way to bare-branched trees, snow from a blizzard gathered in their twigs.]
[The cameraman placed a gloved hand on a nearby bamboo plant to steady himself. His hands are steady, but his breathing is uneven.]
[A signboard beside the cameraman’s hand reads Welcome to Qingce Village, but that is not what the camera is focusing on. In fact, it is unclear what the cameraman sees at this moment.]
[Then the camera zooms in, and, oh. There it is.]
[Standing on the other side of the stream, swaying slightly from side to side, is a man.]
[But this man is not a man. It is difficult to pin down what exactly it is, but one can immediately see that it was designed for passing glances, glimpsed in a crowd one moment and gone the next, its brief appearance not enough to arouse suspicion. Now that it is being looked at directly, it seems to struggle with its primary task of keeping a low profile. Or maybe it would be presumptuous to assume that it had ever tried in the first place.]
[White suit, bowler hat, long-sleeved jacket. No defences against the weather, or perhaps it isn’t bothered by the chill that grips muscle and seeps into bone. It is still swaying, as if strung along by a light breeze. Left, right, left, right.]
[Even from this distance, it is tall, far above the height of an average human male. Its features are difficult to make out in the early morning glare, and the grainy quality of the recording does not help.]
[Its swaying is not entirely unguided, its arms folding and unfolding at fixed points. It has joints, at least, even if they are one too many. As the nonexistent breeze picks up, its spine curves sinuously, like a snake’s. Almost rhythmically.]
[Then it stops.]
[Its eyes are not visible, but it is staring at the camera. It doubles over, placing long, spidery hands in the snow. The limbs sink into the snowdrift, but it is not bothered, continuing to move forward, cutting through the snow with its long, thin arms. The microphone picks up a second noise now, apart from the accelerating breathing of the cameraman. The sound of joints cracking, bones sliding over each other. The squelch, squelch that is more flesh than snow.]
[The cameraman stands his ground, even as the man who is not a man places a singular hand into the stream.]
[Bang.]
[A spray of red in the water. The click, clack of too-long limbs, and the man who is not a man is gone, leaving no prints in the snow.]
[A second gunshot rings out, and the cameraman turns. To his left is a copse of bamboo, out of which rushes a shadow that flings itself at the camera, sending it tumbling to the ground.]
[The last thing it captures before the screen goes dark is a flash of bright orange hair.]
[CLICK]
ZHONGLI
Sit.
CHILDE
Do I have to talk into that?
ZHONGLI
I would simply prefer a more reliable recording of our conversation.
CHILDE
Makes me feel like I’m being interrogated. Maybe try writing it down?
ZHONGLI
I find that this method is far more efficient.
CHILDE
All right, all right. Look. I’m sorry for lying to you about the airport. Something came up last minute, and I had to postpone my return home, alright? I’ll be more honest in the future, I promise.
ZHONGLI
That is not… I have no say in your vacation time and how you choose to spend it. What I do know, however, is that you were hunting the… thing near the stream.
CHILDE
How did you—never mind. It wasn’t my main target, and I came across it when tracking my actual goal. It sparked my interest, that’s all.
ZHONGLI
And your ‘goal’…
CHILDE
Sorry. That’s classified.
ZHONGLI
I see.
[CHAIR CREAKS]
ZHONGLI
Apart from the…
CHILDE
I’ve been calling him Yevgeny. He reminds me of one of my bunkmates back in the military. Tall, cracks every joint in his body when he moves. Frightened off every girl he tried to get with. Poor guy.
ZHONGLI
… Alright. Apart from this… Yevgeny. What did you see?
CHILDE
Huh. Never thought you’d develop a sense of humour.
ZHONGLI
Thank you.
[SILENCE]
ZHONGLI
Oh. Oh dear. I’m so sorry.
CHILDE
[CHUCKLES] It’s all right. Everyone forgets that about me at some point.
[CHILDE STRETCHES, GROANING SOFTLY]
Apart from him, nothing else out of the ordinary. Just a normal morning in a perfectly normal village. I didn’t see anything. Heh.
But enough about me. What are you here for? I thought your doctor made you stay home to rest.
ZHONGLI
The doctor believes I have recovered sufficiently. Or at least enough for a decent amount of travel.
CHILDE
Huh. You know, when I asked Hu Tao about where you went and she said you were going on a tour of Liyue, I thought she was joking. Picked up a new hobby during your break?
ZHONGLI
I… suppose you could say that.
CHILDE
Cool. Wish I could join you, but duty calls. I’ll be here until noon if you need me to pay for anything.
[CHAIR CREAKS, FOOTSTEPS]
ZHONGLI
Wait.
CHILDE
Hmm?
ZHONGLI
I have a request. Do feel free to ignore it, however, if it does not suit your interests.
CHILDE
You’re so courteous, xiansheng. Come on. Let me hear it first.
ZHONGLI
I will be staying in Qingce for a few days to investigate… Yevgeny, as you call him. While I do not want to assume the worst, that creature is not entirely harmless, and it will definitely not be if I am prying into its affairs. If you can… I can use an extra pair of hands during my documentations.
CHILDE
Hmm.
[FOOTSTEPS, SILENCE]
CHILDE
Hmm.
I suppose they wouldn’t mind a slight delay in their plans. Not at this point, at least. All right. I’ll stay a couple more days.
ZHONGLI
Thank you.
CHILDE
You know, if you’re scared of him, you can just say it. Ask for help directly.
ZHONGLI
You misunderstand. I do not fear his kind, whatever they may be. Two heads are better than one, they say, and you—
[INHALES, EXHALES SLOWLY]
I trust you with my knowledge.
CHILDE
Aww. I get it.
[FOOTSTEPS, DOOR OPENS]
CHILDE
The thrill of the hunt gets lonely pretty fast.
ZHONGLI
…
CHILDE
I just realised. I haven’t rented a place to stay here yet. Wasn’t on the original plan… mind if I share yours?
[CLICK]
:-)