In a corner of the venue, Shenhe listened to the story of the Divine Damsel of Devastation. Her usually composed expression finally cracked. A glimmer of tears appeared at the corner of her eyes.
She quickly wiped them away before anyone noticed.
She was confused.
Whether at Wangshu Inn or elsewhere, every time she heard this story, an inexplicable sadness welled up inside her.
As if she herself were the little girl in the tale.
It was strange.
Hu Tao, who had been watching, noticed something amiss. "Sister Shenhe, what's wrong? You look a little pale. Can disciples of the adepti get sick too?"
At her words, Keqing and Qiqi also turned to look at Shenhe.
Shenhe took a deep breath and regained her composure. "It's nothing. I just like this story very much."
"But the little girl in the story may not have been as brave as everyone thinks."
"Facing a terrifying monster, she must have been very afraid too."
Hu Tao tilted her head, considering Shenhe's words.
It made sense. How could a young girl not be afraid when facing a monster that ate children?
"That's right. The first time I saw a spirit, I was a little scared too. But Grandfather gave me courage."
"But with someone important by your side, you're not afraid anymore. Yes, that's it."
Hu Tao said this with great confidence.
Shenhe was taken aback. "With someone important by your side, you're not afraid anymore… I see."
"But in the story, who was there for that little girl?"
...
Now, on stage at Wangshu Inn, after finishing the general outline of the Divine Damsel of Devastation, Li Mo paused briefly, took a sip of bitter tea, and continued in a hoarse, sorrowful voice.
"The world only knows the story of the Divine Damsel of Devastation."
"It only knows that a young girl stepped forward, defeated the monster, and became a great hero."
"But today, I will tell you that the version of the Divine Damsel of Devastation that has been passed down is completely false."
"The little girl in the story did not volunteer to fight the monster."
"She was pushed before the monster by her own father."
"Offered as a sacrifice."
First, Li Mo told the well-known story of the Divine Damsel of Devastation. Then, in a sorrowful tone, he contradicted it, revealing another truth.
The moment he finished, the audience was stunned. An uproar erupted.
How could that be? The Divine Damsel of Devastation was a story that had been passed down in Liyue for generations. And you say it's false?
Impossible. The story came from the adepti. Would the adepti lie?
"Storyteller, are you serious?"
"No way—in this life, has the protagonist been reincarnated as the little girl from the Divine Damsel of Devastation?"
"Remember, this story likely originated with the adepti."
"Adepti don't lie. The story can't be false."
"Storyteller, you need to explain yourself."
"Everyone quiet. Let the storyteller continue. Let's hear the rest."
The Liyue audience murmured among themselves.
If he was telling stories about Mondstadt or Inazuma, they would not mind if he made things up.
But when it came to Liyue's legends, they would not tolerate fabrication.
On stage, Li Mo sat quietly, letting the audience talk.
When the noise subsided, he spoke again.
"Today, I will tell the true story behind the Divine Damsel of Devastation—the story of the fifth reincarnation."
"A story of a boy and a girl who joined forces to defeat a monster."
As he spoke, the Electro projections above the inn began to play.
An image appeared—a young girl, less than ten years old, with delicate features, dressed in simple clothes and fine little shoes. She was very cute.
Though small, her brows carried a hint of pride. She was clearly strong-willed.
It was evening. The girl clutched some Mora tightly in her hand, a smile on her face. She hummed a tune as she walked along the path through the forest.
Soon, she saw the village, and a house halfway up the mountain. That was her home.
"Mother, I'm home."
"Mother, Mother, I did two jobs today. I earned a whole hundred Mora."
"When I save up two thousand Mora, I can buy medicine for you."
The girl opened the door happily, holding two fifty-Mora coins, and bounced into the house.
Inside the sparse room was a worn bed, where a beautiful woman lay.
Her face was pale, her body weak. It was clear she was seriously ill.
Hearing her daughter's voice, the woman forced herself to sit up, took the girl's hand, and looked at her with concern.
"You've become so responsible, earning money on your own."
"But when you go to the city alone, you must be careful. No one has been bullying you, have they?"
The woman was worried. Her daughter was only nine, not yet ten.
At that age, other children were still playing freely.
But her daughter, still so young, had already shouldered the burdens of the family.
The girl's expression flickered. Not wanting her mother to worry, she quickly said, "Don't worry, Mother. No one dares to bully Crane in the city."
"Crane is very strong when fighting."
"If Crane is serious, even the older children in the city might not be able to beat her."
The girl was stubborn, but she was still a child. When she lied, her eyes wandered. She lowered her head.
The mother understood at once. Her daughter must have endured much hardship, working in the city to earn money for medicine and food.
She pulled the girl into her arms, tears in her eyes.
"Crane, promise Mother—"
"Starting tomorrow, don't go to the city to work anymore. Stay here with me and wait for your father to come home."
The girl's father had spent all their savings and sold everything they owned trying to cure his wife.
Now, clinging to a faint hope, he had gone out to find medicine for her.
He would return soon.