If This Is the So-Called "Light"

"Clang! Clang, clang!"

Several pairs of chopsticks darted up and down through the bubbling red oil in a nine-section hotpot, the battle unusually fierce.

"Xichun, I saw that piece of top-grade marbled wagyu first! I've been cooking it for a full twelve seconds!"

A handsome young man with a ponytail, dressed in custom-made aqua-blue casual clothes, was half-standing without a care for appearances, gripping a slice of beef in the pot with a pair of extra-long chopsticks.

Hong Lu, who was always smiling on the bus as though he cared about nothing, was now burning with competitive spirit as he fought to protect his food.

Across from him sat a girl who resembled him somewhat, with a cool, aloof air but a defiant look on her face: Jia Xichun.

"What a joke! Is your name, Jia Baoyu, written on this pot? Once the meat's in the pot, it's everyone for themselves. You were too slow, so you deserved to have it taken."

Xichun refused to give an inch. Her chopsticks shot out like a snake from its hole, precisely clamping onto the other end of the beef and pulling it hard toward her bowl.

"You... don't you usually only eat vegetables? Why are you fighting me for meat today?"

Hong Lu was sweating all over, but he didn't dare pull too hard for fear of tearing the delicate wagyu apart.

"Brother, I felt like eating meat today. Can't I? Let go!"

"No! I even skipped breakfast for this piece of meat!"

Watching the brother and sister battle furiously over a mere slice of hotpot meat in the boiling broth, Wei Zhenzu's gaze grew distant for a moment.

This was what a real family was like.

Even their quarrels and fights over food were bonds full of the warmth of everyday life.

"Waiter! Two more plates of the same top-grade marbled wagyu for that table. Put them on my bill!"

Wei Zhenzu waved a hand and called out grandly.

Since today was a chance to make dreams come true, he would let these people eat to their hearts' content.

Hearing that someone was treating them, Hong Lu and Xichun stopped moving their chopsticks at the same time and turned to look at Wei Zhenzu.

Hong Lu blinked his beautiful eyes, then broke into a brilliant smile:

"Oh, how could we possibly accept? But... thank you, generous sir! Xichun, thank him."

"...Thank you."

Xichun snorted. While Hong Lu was speaking, she flicked her wrist and whisked the wagyu into her bowl before he could react, then swallowed it in one bite.

"Ah! My meat!" Hong Lu's wail rang out through the hotpot restaurant once more.

After eating and drinking their fill, Wei Zhenzu strolled into a huge arcade with Paimon, who was so stuffed she could barely fly straight.

Electronic sounds, claw-machine music, and the cheers of the crowd filled the place.

At the very back of the arcade, an odd group of four had gathered in front of a claw machine filled with limited-edition plush toys from a bloody, violent franchise.

Standing at the front was Ryoshu, an unlit cigarette between her teeth and her eyes fixed on the machine.

She wore a loose black coat today and gripped the joystick.

Ryoshu slammed the grab button.

The mechanical claw descended unsteadily and seized the head of the decapitated plush bear, but as it rose, the claw mercilessly opened according to its programmed probability.

The plush bear fell back with a plop.

"Tsk." Ryoshu's gaze instantly turned extremely dangerous. Her right hand had already reached instinctively for her waist, as though she intended to give the machine an artistic cut.

"Calm down, niece!" Lei Heng, standing to her left, hurriedly grabbed Ryoshu's arm and tried to stop her, sweat pouring down his face.

"Daughter, violence can't solve a probability problem."

Lioen, on her right, was wearing a neat jacket.

"We've already failed seventy-four times. Next time... the instruction says it's guaranteed."

"Really? Yay! Mommy will get that cute little bear this time!"

A girl with twin tails, a Lolita dress, and a sweet smile, Araiya in her childhood, clapped happily at the side, her eyes full of admiring stars.

At the sound of Araiya's clear, bright "Mommy," Ryoshu's hand froze as it reached for her tachi.

She took a deep breath, removed the cigarette from her mouth, and her gaze softened.

She inserted another coin.

The mechanical claw descended and firmly seized the plush bear. To a burst of cheerful music, the bear dropped safely into the chute.

"Yay! Mommy's the best!"

Araiya cheered and rushed forward to scoop up the plushie, then planted a kiss on Ryoshu's cheek.

Ryoshu stood frozen, two suspicious patches of red appearing on her cheeks.

She ruffled Araiya's hair, turned her face away, and muttered in a very low voice, "...Come on, let's play something else."

Behind them, Lei Heng and Lioen exchanged a glance and smiled like proud old fathers.

Standing a short distance away, Wei Zhenzu watched the scene, his eyes growing unexpectedly warm.

Night fell.

The nightscape where reality and The City intertwined was dazzling.

Neon lights flickered, illuminating every street.

Wei Zhenzu and Paimon wandered to the plaza outside the largest luxury shopping center downtown.

He was considering taking Paimon out for an authentic roast duck dinner when a familiar, irritatingly drawn-out voice came from ahead.

"Oh my... Roland, how is your taste in clothes still as bad as a sewer rat's after all these years? My dear sister wearing this pitch-black thing is like a flower stuck in... hmm, stuck on your head."

Argalia, dressed in a magnificent pure-white coat, his long gray-blue hair blowing in the wind, looked at the black-haired man before him with a critical, disdainful gaze.

"This guy just can't go a day without picking a fight..."

Roland muttered under his breath, his face dark.

He looked even worse off than Heathcliff. At least ten shopping bags hung from his neck, and both hands were laden with more. He didn't even have the strength to argue back.

"I'm thinking of Angelica's happiness. I can't stand by and watch my beautiful, elegant, noble sister's sense of style be corrupted by a pauper like you, who eats nothing but grade-nine scallion and meat sandwiches."

Argalia elegantly sipped his coffee, his smile full of the obsession of a man fiercely protective of his sister.

"What do you know? Black goes with everything! And this coat is warm, all right?" Roland retorted through gritted teeth.

Just as the two were about to turn the shopping plaza into a battlefield, a gentle, smiling voice came from between them.

"All right, you two. Why are you still arguing out here? Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you?"

Angelica, wearing a beige coat and with long silver-white hair cascading down her back, walked over carrying two cups of hot milk tea.

She pressed one into Roland's hand and offered the other to Argalia.

"I think the black coat Roland picked looks lovely. It's perfect for winter. I also really like the skirt you recommended, brother, so I bought both."

Angelica gently smoothed things over, then took out a tissue and wiped the sweat from Roland's forehead.

"Thank you for all your hard work, honey. Let's go home. I'll make your favorite sandwich tonight."

At the words "honey" and "home," Roland's exhausted face broke into an utterly silly grin.

"Okay, let's go home." Roland nodded with a foolish smile, as though even the dozens of shopping bags in his hands had become light as feathers.

Standing nearby, Argalia watched his sister's happy smile. Though he still gave a cold snort,

and muttered resentfully, "You're getting off easy, you brat," he didn't argue anymore. He simply followed quietly behind them, guarding this hard-won ordinary life.

The man who had lost everything and fallen into the Abyss amid sorrow and wild laughter had finally caught his falling wife in this illusory dream of April 1.

"Traveler, those people are really weird. They're dressed like they're going to a cosplay convention."

Paimon spoke indistinctly around a candied fruit skewer.

Wei Zhenzu watched Roland and the other two walk away without speaking.

He simply took his phone out of his pocket in the night breeze.

He opened his notes and typed a few lines.

[If this is a dream, please let this long night pass a little more slowly.]

[May all souls mired in suffering find their way home in some unknown corner.]

"Come on, Paimon." Wei Zhenzu put away his phone and turned around with a smile.

"Where are we going? Are we having roast duck?"

"No roast duck. I'm cooking today." Wei Zhenzu rolled up his sleeves and strode forward.

"I'll make you a Hell's Kitchen Manchu-Han imperial feast that combines the flavors of Teyvat with real-world cooking methods. You can eat all you want!"

"Yay!!! Long live the Traveler!" Paimon whooped with joy in midair and followed him like a white shooting star.

In the distance, the clock tower struck ten.

The hands of the clock were still ticking on April Fools' Day.

In this bizarre yet warm and healing city, the wounds torn open by fate were being stitched together bit by bit by the warmth of everyday life.

In this miracle called "April 1," there was no Distortion and no parting, only a sumptuous dinner and nightmares from which no one would ever wake again.

Paimon, following behind Wei Zhenzu, turned her head as though she had noticed something. She pressed a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, a hint of blue appearing in her eyes.

"Happy April Fools' Day, Manager."

(The end)