The library of Mondstadt stood hushed as dusk settled, leaving its shelves bathed in the soft glow of fading daylight.
Ye Ruo had been the intended spark of this quiet visit, his presence meant to stir the stillness with a casual browse or a teasing tale.
Yet Lisa, the sultry librarian with a witch's guile, emerged as the unexpected heart of a tender shift, her guarded walls trembling under Ye Ruo's earnest care.
Her world—crafted from lazy quips and buried scars—cracked open as his gift unveiled a vulnerability she'd long concealed.
The air inside carried the musk of old parchment, mingling with the faint breeze slipping through an open window.
Books towered in orderly rows, their spines a mosaic of leather and faded gold, whispering tales of Mondstadt's past.
Ye Ruo eased into a chair, its wood groaning faintly under his weight, his wind-woven cloak pooling around him.
His Anemo Vision glinted—subtle, steady, a beacon of his day's triumphs.
Lisa swayed in, her purple robe hugging her curves, her hat tipped low over green eyes that shimmered with mischief.
Her Electro Vision hummed—a quiet crackle beneath her lazy grace.
"Cutie—wind drop you here?" she purred, sliding beside him.
Her leg brushed his—deliberate, teasing, a witch's game.
Ye Ruo grinned—unfazed, accustomed to her dance.
"Missed you—thought I'd peek," he replied, voice light.
Lisa's smile widened—dark humor curled her lips.
"New volume done? For your big sister?" she teased.
Her tone probed—hope flickered, then dimmed.
Ye Ruo leaned back—"Not yet—close, though," he said.
"Few days—delivered fresh," he promised.
Lisa's brow twitched—mock offense flared.
"Teasing me now—bad brother," she huffed.
Her hand flicked—static tingled the air.
"You've grown claws—my fault?" she mused.
Ye Ruo chuckled—"Learned from the best," he shot back.
Her jests once shaped him—now he parried.
"Taught you plenty—Sumeru lore too," she sighed.
"You roamed there—left me out," she pouted.
Nostalgia softened his gaze—memories stirred.
"You were key—knowledge, skills, all you," he said.
"Important then—still are," he added.
Lisa tilted her head—curiosity sharpened her stare.
"Here for me—something big?" she asked.
Ye Ruo's tone dipped—gravity edged his words.
"Wind Vision curse—friends fall," he murmured.
"Thunder friends most—can't lose you," he confessed.
Lisa blinked—then laughter spilled, bright and free.
"Fool—where's that from?" she giggled.
"Jean's fine—friends intact," she countered.
Ye Ruo pressed—"Witches burn—costly power," he said.
"Yours too—hidden tolls," he ventured.
Her laughter died—silence cloaked her face.
Eyes narrowed—secrets weighed her sigh.
"Who spilled—Sumeru whispers?" she asked.
Ye Ruo reached—[Witch Origin Bottle] gleamed.
Crystal shimmered—energy swirled, arcane and alive.
Lisa's breath caught—intuition flared sharp.
"Precious—witch's gold," she whispered.
Her hand hovered—value sank in, vast.
"Where'd you—why me?" she stammered.
Ye Ruo pressed it forward—"For you—use it," he urged.
Her gaze locked—emotion flickered, deep.
"Teased you plenty—still this?" she murmured.
He nodded—"Your health—above all," he said.
"No trades—just you," he insisted.
Lisa's laugh returned—soft, moon-curved.
"Frank—dazzling knight," she cooed.
"Witches' bane—Sumeru'd swoon," she teased.
She uncorked—essence drifted, glowing mist.
It kissed her brow—light sank, wounds faded.
Her eyes closed—power surged, scars eased.
Strength bloomed—life's cost receded.
She exhaled—relief painted her face.
Ye Ruo leaned—"Good—works?" he asked.
Lisa's lips curled—mischief reignited.
"Not ungrateful—sister repays," she purred.
Her breath brushed his ear—then a kiss, soft, wet.
"First one—yours," she whispered.
Ye Ruo froze—warmth lingered, heart thudded.
The system chimed in his mind—panel flared.
He grinned—readers' spoils sweetened the moment.
[Customer Barbara completed Old Mond: Healing Winds—Reward: Hydroprayer Veil.]
[Hydroprayer Veil: Enwraps the user in a flowing Hydro shroud, healing allies with gentle waves; deflects minor blows with water's grace; can summon a restorative mist, soothing wounds in a wide arc.]
Barbara with healing tides—prayers grew stronger.
Lisa pulled back—"Worth it—cutie?" she teased.
Her eyes danced—gratitude veiled in jest.
"Debt's mine—rare for me," she admitted.
Ye Ruo smirked—"Plenty of time—sister," he quipped.
Her laugh rang—library stirred, alive.
A subplot brewed—shelves creaked, shadows shifted.
"Intruder—earlier," he noted, wind prickling.
Lisa tensed—Electro crackled, senses flared.
"Thief—books again?" she growled.
Her hat tipped—laziness shed fast.
"Chase—zap 'em?" she offered, sly.
Ye Ruo rose—wind coiled, eager.
"Fun night—let's," he agreed.
Footsteps echoed—faint, fleeing deep.
Lisa's whip sparked—purple light danced.
"Mine—grudge pays," she vowed.
Ye Ruo's gale whispered—scent tracked.
"Left wing—cornered," he said.
They moved—silent, a hunter's pact.
The library sprawled—nooks hid secrets.
Tombs gleamed—dust motes swirled in shafts.
A figure darted—cloak dark, book clutched.
"Stop—drop it!" Lisa barked.
Electro lashed—tendrils snagged a shelf.
Books toppled—thief stumbled, cursed.
Ye Ruo's wind surged—gust pinned the foe.
"Gotcha—name," he demanded.
A girl glared—teen, freckled, defiant.
"Ella—borrowing," she snapped.
Lisa loomed—"Stealing—mine," she hissed.
Ella shrank—"Research—please," she begged.
Ye Ruo eased—"What for—truth," he pressed.
Her eyes darted—"Abyss—plains hum," she said.
A twist loomed—scouts tied to her.
"Tracked us—why?" Lisa asked.
"Ruins—power stirs," Ella confessed.
Ye Ruo's gaze hardened—"Abyss again—details," he urged.
Ella gulped—"Map—stolen, there," she pointed.
Lisa sighed—"Trouble—always," she groaned.
Her whip coiled—mercy stayed her hand.
"Help us—debt clears," Ye Ruo offered.
Ella nodded—fear turned resolve.
The system pulsed—Ye Ruo's fame a rising breeze.
His bonds deepened—Mondstadt's tale spun wild.
***
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