Night had cloaked Mondstadt in a deep indigo shroud, stars twinkling faintly above as a cool breeze swept down from the cliffs, rustling lanterns that cast golden pools across cobblestone streets. The Deer Hunter restaurant glowed warmly in the square, its wooden facade alive with hearthlight, the scent of golden egg fried rice wafting through the air like a siren's call, drawing townsfolk from every corner.
Sarah bustled out from the kitchen, her apron dusted with flour, her hands cradling a fresh tray of rice as she spotted Paimon flailing in Lumine's grip, a smirk tugging at her lips. "What's Paimon up to now?" she teased, setting the tray down, her voice a playful jab as Lumine huffed, "Always trouble!"
Lumine released Paimon with a final ruffle, her golden eyes flashing with mock fury. "She's scheming nonsense again," she growled, brushing her blonde hair back as Paimon darted free, rubbing her cheeks with a pout.
"I'm helping you, sis!" Paimon protested, her starry cape fluttering as she crossed her arms. "Boss Harlan's food daily, that's the dream!" she added, her silver hair bouncing with yearning.
Sarah chuckled, her grin softening as she turned to Harlan Flint, who lounged at the table, his dark jacket slung over a chair. "Boss Harlan, taste this, tell me what's off," she pleaded, her voice earnest, her cook's pride craving his master's eye.
Harlan's hazel eyes glinted with curiosity, his grin widening as he leaned forward. "Sure thing," he said, lifting the lid with a gentle flick, a golden burst spilling forth, its light painting the room in radiant hues.
Wendy leaned back, his green cape swaying as he sighed, "Seen it plenty, still jaw-dropping." His Anemo Vision glinted faintly, his bard's soul stirred by the glow, a marvel he'd weave into song.
Lumine nodded, her golden eyes wide as she murmured, "Totally flips what you know." Paimon bobbed beside her, her starry cape fluttering, "Yeah, unreal!" she chirped, her voice a spark of awe.
Paimon tilted her head, her silver hair catching the light as she asked, "Boss Harlan, why's it glow?" Her tiny hands clasped together, her snack-obsessed mind buzzing with questions about the rice's magic.
Harlan's grin softened, his voice a calm hum as he scooped a spoonful. "Rice and egg fuse perfectly, every grain coated, that's the trick," he explained, his super chef insight slicing through the mystery.
Sarah nodded, her flour-dusted hands fidgeting as she absorbed his words. "Got the method in my head, still tough," she admitted, her reverence for Harlan's gift a quiet flame in her chest.
Harlan tasted the rice, his hazel eyes narrowing as the flavors danced across his tongue. Soft yet firm, buttery and rich, a golden marvel, yet something nagged at his sharpened senses, a whisper of what could be.
He swallowed, his grin tilting as he met Sarah's nervous gaze. "Great start, technique's a bit green, needs emotion," he said, his voice steady, his mind tracing Little Master's tearful feasts.
Sarah blinked, her brow furrowing as she scratched her head. "Emotion?" she echoed, her voice a mix of confusion and awe, the comic's depth a puzzle she couldn't grasp.
Harlan nodded, his hazel eyes glinting with memory as he leaned back. "In the comics, it moves you to tears, hits deep," he mused, picturing Klee's tofu, its joy a spark he'd felt himself.
Wendy's eyes widened, his lyre resting silent as he chuckled, "Food that makes you cry, wild!" His bard's heart thrummed, imagining flavors that could pluck the soul's strings.
Paimon darted to Harlan's side, her tiny hands resuming their shoulder rubs as she grinned. "You can do that, right, Boss Harlan?" she chirped, her starry cape fluttering with hope, her snack dreams soaring.
Harlan ruffled her hair, his grin widening as he dodged her plea. "Maybe," he teased, his voice a playful hum, his mind already plotting a test for tomorrow's noon.
He glanced at Sarah, his tone shifting to business as he asked, "Where'd you get the ingredients?" Sarah perked up, "Oh, from Hilt's shop, near the gates," she replied, her voice quick with trust.
Harlan nodded, his hazel eyes flickering with intent. "I'll check it out tomorrow," he said, his super chef skills itching to craft something profound, a dish to rival the comics.
Lumine straightened, her golden eyes flashing with resolve as she spoke up. "Paimon and I'll grab them, delivered by noon," she offered, her traveler's grit shining through her blush.
Paimon froze, her starry cape drooping as she whined, "Me too?" She wilted under Lumine's glare, "Fine, I'm in," she grumbled, her snack lust bowing to sisterly pressure.
Harlan's grin widened, his voice a warm nod as he leaned back. "Perfect, noon it is," he agreed, savoring the chaos his cooking might unleash, a trade well worth the help.
Paimon's pout vanished, her silver hair bouncing as she clapped, "Yay, food!" Her starry cape flared, her mood flipping fast, her dreams of Harlan's craft a glowing lure.
Harlan rose, his dark jacket slipping over his shoulders as he stretched. "Heading back now," he said, his hazel eyes glinting with a parting thought, "Try overnight rice next time, might boost the flavor."
Sarah tilted her head, her flour-dusted hands pausing as she murmured, "Overnight?" She nodded slowly, "Worth a shot, thanks," she added, filing away his wisdom for dawn's test.
He stepped into the night, the square buzzing with golden flashes, the crowd's cheers a distant roar as he strolled toward Galehaven Comics. The shop loomed ahead, its weathered sign swaying, its windows dark yet brimming with promise, a sanctuary of ink and chaos.
Harlan paused, his grin fading as a thought struck, his voice a low hum. "Renovation time," he muttered, picturing a grander Galehaven, a vision from his old world reborn in Teyvat.
He called to the system, his hazel eyes narrowing as he asked, "Can I remodel the shop?" The panel flared, "Yes," it chimed, its voice a spark in his mind, a door to change swinging wide.
Harlan's grin returned, his voice a quiet thrill as he laid out his plan. "Make it like Earth's comic stores, sleek, no clutter, big shelves, cozy vibe," he said, his imagination painting the space anew.
The system hummed, its response a jolt as it spoke, "Five million Mora, one-time cost, permanent." Harlan's brows lifted, "Steep, but doable," he mused, his profits soaring daily, a fortune within reach.
He calculated, his hazel eyes glinting with resolve as he paced the alley. Six hundred thousand day one, two point four million day two, three million tomorrow, he'd hit the mark by nightfall.
"Tomorrow night, we transform," Harlan decided, his voice a whisper of intent. He slipped inside, the shop's familiar hush wrapping around him, a canvas for his dreams as he washed up and rested.
Dawn crept over Mondstadt, its golden fingers brushing the cliffs as Harlan woke, his hazel eyes sharp with purpose. Galehaven Comics hummed with its usual charm, its lantern flickering awake, the day's bustle a prelude to his grand test.
Customers streamed in, their coins clinking as they snatched comics, their voices a buzz of awe at tales of dragons and duels. Harlan grinned, his hazel eyes tracking the chaos, his profits climbing, the renovation a heartbeat away.
Noon loomed, the door bursting open as Lumine stormed in, her blonde hair wild, her golden eyes blazing. Paimon trailed, her starry cape sagging, her arms laden with sacks, "Ingredients, delivered!" she panted, her voice a weary cheer.
Harlan took the goods, his grin widening as he hefted rice and eggs, his super chef soul alight. "Thanks, now watch," he said, his voice a spark as he moved to the stove, the shop's tiny kitchen his stage.
He cooked, his hands a blur as rice sizzled, eggs melded, his skill weaving emotion into every grain. The aroma rose, rich and deep, a golden glow pulsing as he plated it, tears pricking his own eyes, a taste of memory unlocked.
Lumine tasted first, her golden eyes widening as a sob caught her throat. "So good, hurts," she choked, tears streaming, her traveler's heart pierced by flavors of lost homes.
Paimon followed, her starry cape drooping as she bawled, "Too yummy!" Her tiny hands clutched the spoon, her snack lust drowned in a flood of feeling she couldn't name.
Wendy scooped a bite, his green cape still as tears rolled, "Hits the soul," he murmured. His bard's voice cracked, a melody of longing for winds long past echoing in the rice.
Harlan watched, his hazel eyes glinting with triumph as he tasted his work. Tears welled, his own past stirring, a dish beyond comics, a proof of his craft's depth, Mondstadt's new legend born.
***
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