Word Count: 11,985
Series: Genshin Impact
Source: Genshin 4o (revised and transformed into an aesthetically narrative novel)
My 'What if' I given idea: Random Pies and noodles 'attacking' at genshin impact characters
Original Characters: none, just a pie, and noodles
It was a peaceful afternoon in Mondstadt, the sun shining through the trees as the breeze carried the sweet scent of wildflowers. The Knights of Favonius were lounging around the plaza, enjoying some well-deserved rest. Jean, the Acting Grand Master, was strolling with her usual calm demeanor, a slight smile on her face as she exchanged pleasantries with Noelle, who was quietly standing beside her, polishing her shield.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pie flew through the air and splat—it hit Jean right in the face.
"Wh-what?!" Jean gasped, wiping pie off her face as the remnants of whipped cream dripped down her cheeks. She blinked in confusion, looking around for the culprit.
Before she could say anything more, another pie came flying from behind a nearby barrel, and this time, it smacked Noelle right on her helmet. The pie oozed down her armor, leaving a trail of sticky cream.
"What is going on?!" Noelle exclaimed, brushing the pie off, only to be hit by another one from behind her.
"That's the third one," Noelle muttered, blinking in disbelief. She raised her shield to defend herself, but it didn't help much as a fourth pie splattered across her back.
Jean shook her head, trying to regain some composure, only to be interrupted as a fifth pie came flying at Noelle. And then another. And another. Pie after pie hit her, one after the other, until Noelle stood there covered in whipped cream, her usually pristine armor now a mess of pie residue.
"Noelle!" Jean said with an almost desperate laugh. "I think you've been targeted more than me!"
Noelle just sighed in resignation. "I suppose I have. This is... certainly a first."
Before anyone could process the situation further, Amber, who had been nearby chatting with Klee, was suddenly pelted by a pie out of nowhere. It hit her squarely on the forehead, sending whipped cream flying in all directions.
Amber blinked in shock. "What in Teyvat...?!" She looked around wildly, trying to figure out where it had come from, but there was no sign of the pie-throwing culprit.
Before she could say anything more, another pie came out of thin air, hitting her again, this time on the cheek. Then a third pie followed, splattering across her shoulder.
"What is going on here?!" Amber exclaimed, laughing in disbelief. "I'm getting attacked by pies!"
Klee, who had been standing innocently nearby, suddenly found herself the next victim. A pie, as if summoned by the chaos, slammed directly into her face.
"Hehe! That was funny!" Klee giggled, her face covered in cream as she wiped it off, still grinning like a little troublemaker.
Meanwhile, Noelle, now completely buried under a mountain of pies, just stood still. She glanced at Jean, then at Amber, and finally at Klee, and said dryly, "Well, it seems like we've all been hit by some very... unusual pie attacks."
Jean could only chuckle at the absurdity of it all, pie dripping down her face as she glanced at the others, a mix of amusement and bewilderment in her eyes. "I never expected my day to end like this..."
The chaos of pie-throwing was far from over. After everyone had a chance to recover from the barrage, they stood around, wiping pie off their faces and trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"Alright," Jean sighed, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all, "I think we're safe for a moment. Let's take a breather."
But just as the calm seemed to settle, a loud whoosh echoed through the air, and before anyone could react, four pies suddenly rained down on Lisa, the quiet and composed librarian of Mondstadt.
"Wait, what—?!" Lisa barely had time to register the incoming barrage before the pies splattered on her face, one after another. The whipped cream splashed all over her glasses, and she blinked in confusion, trying to clear them.
"Who... who did this?" she muttered, pushing her glasses up, pie dripping from her cheeks. Her usual calm demeanor seemed to falter as she looked around for the source, but once again, there was nothing to see. Only an unsettling silence... except for the faint giggles in the distance.
But before anyone could offer Lisa any comfort, a new figure emerged from the corner of the plaza. Kaeya, strolling along as he always did with that typical smirk on his face, looked up to see the others.
He never had a chance. From seemingly nowhere, a giant pie came hurtling toward him, catching him square in the face. The sheer size of it blasted him back, and Kaeya was sent flying into the wall with a loud thud.
"Ah, great!" Kaeya groaned from behind the cream, his voice muffled by the sticky mess. "I leave the office for one minute, and this happens."
Everyone stared at the spectacle in disbelief, and Amber let out a laugh. "That was... amazing!" she said, wiping the last of her own pie off her shoulder.
But as Kaeya slowly pulled himself off the wall, brushing pie from his hair, two more pies flew in, landing squarely on Noelle's face. She barely had time to react before she was hit yet again, her armor now even more covered than before.
"Noelle!" Jean cried out, laughing at the unrelenting nature of it all. "Are you sure you didn't do something to deserve this?"
Noelle, who now looked like a walking pie factory, sighed deeply. "I... I really don't know anymore. Is this some kind of divine punishment?" She wiped pie from her eyes and grinned sheepishly.
"At least we're all in this together," Amber said, still chuckling, while Kaeya brushed the whipped cream from his hair and straightened up with a resigned expression.
"I never thought I'd be attacked by pies today," Kaeya said, shaking his head with a smile. "But I suppose this is just another day in Mondstadt."
"I suppose so," Jean agreed, trying to regain her composure, but the laughter in the air was contagious.
It was clear that the pie battle was far from over.
Inside Angel's Share, the usual calm atmosphere was bustling with the laughter of patrons and the gentle clinking of glasses. Diluc stood behind the bar, wiping down the counter with his usual serious expression. He'd just finished serving a group of adventurers when a strange noise caught his attention. Before he could react, splat, a pie slammed into his face.
Diluc blinked in surprise, his expression faltering for a moment. The whipped cream dripped from his hair and down his face, and he slowly wiped it off with a towel, muttering to himself.
"Of all the things..." he sighed, setting the towel down and looking around the tavern, but it was as quiet as ever. No one seemed to be laughing. It was as if the pie had materialized out of thin air.
Meanwhile, outside the tavern, Rosaria had just arrived in the town square. She was walking quietly, her usual stoic expression firmly in place, when a sudden flurry of pies rained down on her. She tried to block them with her hands, but the pies hit their mark: one after the other, seven pies smacking into her face and body.
"Wh-what...?" Rosaria's eyes widened in surprise. She wiped the pie off her face, looking around for the prankster, but there was nothing. Her long robes were now completely covered in whipped cream, and she could feel the weight of the sticky mess on her skin.
"Guess... this is what I get for stepping out today," she muttered to herself, a rare smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, though she was still clearly bewildered by the entire situation.
Back at Angel's Share, Venti had been enjoying his usual seat by the window, his lute resting on the table, a glass of wine in hand. He was in the middle of composing a new tune when, without warning, a pie flew right at him. However, unlike the others, this pie didn't land with the usual splat. Instead, it landed gently and perfectly on his table, as if served on a platter, the whipped cream sitting just beside his wine glass.
Venti's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face. "Now this is a new kind of service..." he mused, inspecting the pie as if it were a rare treasure.
But that wasn't all. The moment the pie landed, a bottle of wine was suddenly thrown across the tavern, landing perfectly beside the pie—not just any wine, but a bottle of the finest, aged dandelion wine. The label was old, and the wine inside had been aged for hundreds of years.
"Well, this is certainly a treat," Venti said with a chuckle, picking up the bottle. "The finest wine, served with a pie... how divine."
He poured himself a glass of the rare dandelion wine, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "This is certainly not how I imagined my day would go," he added, taking a sip of the wine and savoring the taste. "But I can't say I mind."
The room fell into a brief silence as the patrons watched the scene unfold. Diluc stood in the background, still wiping whipped cream off his face, while Rosaria, now pie-covered, glared at the distant horizon.
"It seems... the pies have taken a liking to us today," Diluc remarked dryly, casting a glance toward Venti, who was in the process of wiping his pie-covered table with a napkin.
"Indeed," Venti replied, swirling the dandelion wine in his glass. "And I must say, this is a rather pleasant surprise."
Just as he took another sip, the tavern door swung open, and a curious Klee skipped in, glancing around with her usual mischievous grin.
"Did I miss the pie fight?!" she asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"You missed quite a lot," Venti chuckled, offering her the last bite of his pie.
Klee grinned even wider. "I'll make sure to join in next time!"
Just as Klee entered the tavern, eager to join the chaos, the unthinkable happened. A pie, as if it had been waiting for her, flew through the air and splat—right on her face.
"Ah!" Klee yelped, stumbling back slightly, the whipped cream oozing down her face and onto her cheeks. "Who did that?!"
She wiped the cream away, her eyes twinkling with excitement rather than annoyance. But before she could even finish brushing the pie off, something even stranger happened.
Out of nowhere, a special Dodoco pie—fluffy and golden, with a perfect crust—was suddenly thrown and landed gently beside her. The pie rested on the counter next to her, as if it had been placed there by the hands of an invisible chef, its whipped cream swirled to perfection and sprinkled with small, colorful berries on top.
Klee blinked, her surprise turning into a delighted grin. "Ooooh, look! A Dodoco pie!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she reached for it.
Diluc, standing nearby, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight. "This is getting... out of hand," he muttered, still wiping pie from his hair.
Venti, who had been watching with amusement, leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I must say, this day is full of surprises."
Klee, not one to let a little whipped cream ruin her fun, grabbed the Dodoco pie and took a playful bite. "Yummy! This one's extra special, I can tell!" She giggled, licking some of the cream from her lips. "I hope more pies keep coming! I like this game!"
The tavern was filled with laughter and disbelief, the pie fight having taken a bizarre turn. Klee was completely unbothered by the mess on her face, enjoying the new pie as if it were the best gift she'd ever received.
Diluc sighed, his patience thinning. "I think I've had enough of pies for one day."
But the mischief had only just begun. With the unpredictable nature of the pies and the growing chaos in Angel's Share, one thing was certain: no one was safe from the flying desserts, and no one was quite sure where the next one would land.
The chaos in Mondstadt was far from over. As the pie battle continued to unfold, Barbara, who had been humming happily while walking through the square, didn't even see it coming.
Whoosh—splat!
The first pie hit her square in the face. Before she could even react, another pie came flying, hitting her on the shoulder, then one more hit her in the stomach, and the next thing she knew, pies were coming from every direction. The whipped cream splattered across her, coating her hair, face, and even her clothes. Forty pies. Forty. It was as if they had a personal vendetta against her.
Barbara stood there, blinking in shock as whipped cream covered every inch of her body. She tried to wipe her face, but there was no point—the mess just kept coming.
"Ah... I can't even see anymore!" Barbara laughed weakly, a little overwhelmed but somehow still trying to keep her cheerful demeanor. "Who's doing this to me?!" she called out, her voice muffled by the cream that covered her nose.
Just then, Bennet, who had been watching in disbelief from a nearby bench, was suddenly targeted. A pie flew out of nowhere and slapped right into his face. Bennet was thrown off balance for a moment, pie dripping from his face and his hair now splattered with whipped cream. "Wh-what the—?" he spluttered, wiping his face, but before he could fully recover, another pie hit him right in the chest.
"Okay, I get it! Two pies—no need to go overboard," Bennet muttered, half-laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Meanwhile, Fischl had been strolling through the square, her usual elegance interrupted by the occasional glance at the chaos unfolding. But she wasn't spared. Wham! A pie slammed into her face, followed by another, then another, and another. Four pies hit her square in the face, each more ridiculous than the last. She could hardly keep her composure, but, true to form, she didn't let it show.
"You dare!?" Fischl's voice rang out, now muffled by whipped cream, as she tried to push the pies off her face. Oz, her raven companion, perched nearby, looking at her with wide eyes.
Before Fischl could even respond, a final pie was thrown—right at Oz, and the raven squawked in surprise as the pie hit him directly on the head. Oz flapped his wings frantically, feathers now covered in whipped cream.
"Even you?!" Fischl shrieked, pushing more whipped cream off her face. "This... this is an attack on both of us, Oz! You have been desecrated by pie!"
Oz merely gave a disgruntled squawk, clearly unamused by the situation.
Barbara, still completely covered in pie, sighed in exasperation. She had just begun to get used to the mess when suddenly, as if the universe hadn't had enough fun at her expense, another pie was thrown at her. But this time, it wasn't just pie—it was something far more... spicy.
As Barbara stood there, wiping whipped cream from her eyes, a bottle of chili juice came flying out of nowhere and landed perfectly beside her, spilling slightly as it hit the ground.
Her eyes widened. "Wait... is that... my favorite drink?" she asked in disbelief, trying to focus through the mess of whipped cream. She took a moment to look at the bottle, clearly not sure if she should be amused or horrified. "I love chili juice, but... this isn't quite how I wanted to enjoy it."
Venti, who had been watching the scene from a distance, raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Seems like someone has a sense of humor today," he mused.
Barbara, despite the cream and now the chili juice, let out a laugh. "At least I got my drink. I'll take what I can get, I guess."
"Seems like no one is safe from this pie madness," Bennet chuckled, still wiping cream from his face, though the situation was starting to wear on him.
Fischl, wiping more cream off her face with an air of dignity, added, "This madness shall not go unpunished... but for now, we endure." She glanced at Oz, who was now cleaning himself off with a few disgruntled shakes. "And I suppose even Oz must endure this... humiliation."
And so, with Barbara still trying to enjoy her chili juice beside her pie-coated self, and the others covered in whipped cream, the pie battle raged on. No one could say when—or where—it would end, but one thing was certain: the streets of Mondstadt would never forget this strange and sticky day.
Mona was just finishing up a quiet walk through Mondstadt, deep in thought as usual, when out of nowhere, a pie came flying through the air, smacking right into her face.
"Wh—?!" Mona yelped, stumbling back as whipped cream splattered across her face, her usual composed demeanor replaced by surprise. She wiped her face furiously, but before she could even process what had just happened, something even bigger happened. A massive pie, bigger than any she had seen before, descended from the sky and landed perfectly on top of her head, completely covering her in whipped cream.
Mona stood frozen for a moment, pie dripping from her robes, the whipped cream dripping down her face and chin. She blinked, completely stunned, before shaking her head. "Why me...?" she muttered, looking up at the sky as if waiting for an answer, but the heavens remained silent.
"Guess that's the end of that," she sighed, trying to brush the cream from her hair, but it was no use. She was covered from head to toe. "I don't even know where to begin..."
Meanwhile, Eula, who had been walking nearby, was the next victim of the pie war. This time, a blueberry pie came flying at her, but in a rather unexpected fashion. The pie didn't land anywhere near her face—instead, it hit her squarely on the rear.
"What the heck?" Eula's voice rang out in disbelief as the whipped cream and blueberries splattered on her backside. The timing was so perfect that she didn't even have time to react before a second pie followed, hitting her in almost the same spot.
"Who... did this?" Eula growled, turning around to scan the surroundings. "There's no honor in this kind of attack!"
But it didn't stop there. Another pie came flying, then another, and another. Six pies in total, all hitting her in the same spot. Her usually pristine attire was now an absolute mess of whipped cream and blueberry stains, and her expression went from shock to annoyance as she felt the pies splatter one after the other.
"That's it. Whoever is doing this, I'm going to—!" Eula started, but before she could finish, the next surprise hit her: a cold drink, her absolute favorite, was suddenly tossed her way. It landed perfectly in her hand, as if someone had aimed with the precision of an archer.
Eula blinked, still holding the cold drink. The combination of whipped cream on her backside, the cold drink in her hand, and the pies had left her speechless for a moment. She stared down at the drink, blinking as the whipped cream slowly dripped down from her hair.
"Well... I didn't see that coming," she said, her voice calm despite everything, though a faint hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "I suppose this makes up for the chaos, doesn't it?"
Her frown, however, quickly returned as she glanced at the six pies scattered around her. "Just who is responsible for this?!" she demanded, her hand gripping the drink as she looked around suspiciously, pie dripping from her shoulders and down her back.
Mona, still covered in her own mountain of pie, glanced at Eula. "Looks like we're not the only targets of today's chaos."
Eula sighed deeply. "Seems so... At least it wasn't my face."
The two exchanged a look, realizing that the pie madness seemed to have no end in sight. They could only hope the pies would run out soon, though by the looks of it, the next surprise could be right around the corner.
Noelle, who had been standing watch over Mondstadt's streets, suddenly felt something strange. She heard a faint whoosh, and before she could react, splat—a pie landed directly on her face.
"No! Not again!" Noelle groaned, wiping her face off, but before she could even get a breath, another pie came flying, this time hitting her squarely on the chest.
"Why is it always me?" she sighed in disbelief. But before she could even recover, a third pie came sailing through the air, hitting her right on the back, splattering whipped cream all over her cape.
"Ugh, is there no mercy today?" she mumbled, wiping pie off her armor. She turned around, half-expecting to see some kind of prankster, but the crowd around her was as calm as ever. No sign of anyone who could possibly be responsible.
Meanwhile, Amber, who had been walking through the square nearby, was targeted next, though the pie was more of a playful shot than a serious attack.
"Here it comes..." Amber said with a grin, sensing the incoming pie. She jumped aside just in time to avoid it, but the pie instead landed neatly on the ground beside her.
"Oh, so close!" Amber laughed, wiping a tiny bit of whipped cream off her cheek. "But I'm not going to let it get me!" She gave the air a playful wink and continued walking, clearly unfazed by the near-miss.
But Noelle was still in the middle of her pie-covered disaster. Just as she was finishing wiping off the last of the mess, another seven pies came flying her way, each one hitting her with perfect precision. They landed all over her armor, her face, and even in her hair.
"Seven more pies?!" Noelle gasped in exasperation. "Whoever's doing this is really relentless!"
But it seemed the pie war wasn't done yet. As if the pie battle had somehow decided that Barbara wasn't quite covered enough, another 30 pies came flying toward her from seemingly nowhere.
Barbara, already covered in whipped cream from earlier, stood in disbelief as the barrage of pies hit her again, one after another. The pies seemed to have a mind of their own, slamming into her from all directions—her face, her shoulders, her hair, and even her legs.
"Are you... seriously doing this again?" Barbara asked, her voice muffled by whipped cream as she wiped her eyes clear. She was practically swimming in pie at this point.
The crowd had started to laugh, a few of them genuinely shocked at the absurdity of it all, while others were enjoying the chaotic entertainment. It seemed as though there was no end to the pie madness.
"Noelle, Barbara, you two might need some help," Amber said, still wiping her cheek. "At this point, I think you've been officially baptized in pie."
Noelle, her face already covered again, looked up. "I never thought I'd be the one calling for mercy, but... please. Enough pies, for the love of Mondstadt!"
But even as she spoke, another pie flew from the distance, and she couldn't help but sigh. "Oh no... here it comes..."
At this point, it was clear: no one was safe. Noelle, Barbara, and even Amber had been drawn into the madness of the flying pies, with no sign of it stopping anytime soon. All they could do was laugh, wipe their faces, and try to brace for whatever came next.
As the pie chaos raged on in Mondstadt, Barbara and Noelle were still in the background, utterly overwhelmed by the continuous barrage of pies. Noelle had managed to catch her breath for only a moment, but the pies kept coming—one after another, and the two of them were covered head to toe in whipped cream, frosting, and pie crust. Each time they thought it was over, another wave would strike, and they had no choice but to laugh helplessly at the absurdity of it all.
Meanwhile, Jean and Lisa, taking a rare break from their usual duties, were making their way through the square when fate decided to throw more pies their way.
Jean was the first target, a pie whizzing through the air and hitting her square in the face.
"Not again..." Jean sighed, wiping whipped cream from her eyes, trying to maintain her usual composed demeanor despite the mess. "Well, it's only fair after what happened to Noelle and Barbara."
She glanced over at the others, who were now in the middle of their own pie-covered mayhem, but before she could say anything, another pie came flying toward her. "I swear, this is becoming a tradition," Jean muttered, laughing.
However, Lisa's moment was about to get even more... personal. As the pies continued their reign of chaos, Lisa was hit by the next pie, but this time, it wasn't just any pie. The familiar whoosh of an incoming dessert could be heard, and suddenly—a pumpkin pie came crashing into her face, covering her perfectly.
Lisa froze, the sight of the pumpkin pie bringing back memories she'd rather forget.
"NO! Not pumpkin!" she shrieked in horror. Her eyes widened as the scent of pumpkin filled the air, and she began wiping furiously at her face, but the pie's remnants seemed to stick to her like a curse.
For Lisa, the pumpkin flavor was a traumatic reminder of some less-than-pleasant experiences, and this surprise attack brought back a flood of uncomfortable memories. "Why pumpkin pies? Of all things!" she groaned, shaking her head in disbelief.
As if the pie gods were determined to make this even worse, another four pumpkin pies followed, one after another, hitting her squarely in the face, on her hair, and all over her clothes.
"Oh no, not again! Please!" Lisa's voice cracked slightly as more pumpkin pies assaulted her, the whipped cream and orange filling practically turning her into a walking pumpkin dessert.
Jean couldn't help but laugh, albeit a little nervously. "I guess this is what happens when you think you're safe," she said, shaking her head.
But Lisa, covered head to toe in pumpkin pie, could only muster a long sigh. "This... this is my worst nightmare come to life."
Even though she was overwhelmed, she managed to force a laugh. "I suppose I should've seen it coming, given my... history with pumpkins. But, really—of all the pies!"
Noelle, still in the background, was hit with another pie, followed by another for Barbara, as the two of them had almost become permanent targets for the barrage. Pies were flying from every direction, with no signs of slowing down.
In the middle of it all, Venti, who had been sipping his dandelion wine, raised his glass in mock salute. "Ah, a beautiful, chaotic day in Mondstadt," he said to no one in particular. "Can anyone even say they're not a part of this pie fight by now?"
Jean glanced at Lisa, whose face was now more pumpkin than human, and just sighed. "I don't know if I can take much more of this..."
But as the pies continued to fly, it was clear that Mondstadt would never forget this day of endless pie chaos. No one was safe, and even the most unsuspecting targets were hit without warning. The streets were a battleground, and all anyone could do was laugh, wipe their faces, and wonder who—or what—would be next.
The pie madness had reached an entirely new level. Barbara and Noelle were now so thoroughly covered in pies that they looked like living whipped cream sculptures, constantly hit with more pies every few seconds. Noelle, who had once been so proud of her unshakeable resolve, now stood with whipped cream dripping from her hair and armor as she helplessly wiped her face for the hundredth time.
Meanwhile, the chaos expanded to other targets, with no one spared from the barrage.
Klee, still grinning like a maniac, managed to avoid being hit directly, but a pie still caught her by surprise, landing perfectly on her back. "Hehe! It's like I'm in a dream!" she giggled, unfazed by the mess.
Amber, ever the sport, was hit with a pie just as she turned the corner, getting a direct splat on her cheek. "Aww, I missed the action," she said, wiping the whipped cream from her face with a playful wink. "Next time, I'll get the one who threw it!"
Diluc, ever the serious one, was just trying to enjoy his quiet time when a pie flew out of nowhere and smacked into his chest. "Of course," he muttered, standing still for a moment before wiping it off with a sigh. "At this rate, I'll need a permanent pie-proof shield."
Kaeya, no stranger to mischief, was hit by not one, but two pies, each splattering onto his face and shoulders. "Hah, didn't see that coming," he chuckled, wiping his cheek, but before he could recover, a giant pie descended from the sky and slammed directly into his body. He was covered instantly. "Guess I shouldn't have jinxed myself..."
Bennet, as optimistic as always, was hit by a pie as well, but unlike others, he shrugged it off with a laugh. "Guess the pies are following me now!" he said, only to have another one land on his face just moments later. He grinned wider. "Bring it on!"
Fischl, too, wasn't immune to the pie chaos. She managed to dodge most of them, but a pie landed directly on her shoulder and then another on her face. "Oz!" she called out, turning to her raven companion. But Oz was hit too—another pie right on his feathers, making Fischl sigh in defeat. "It's a conspiracy against us, isn't it, Oz?"
Jean was on the move, trying to help with the chaos when a pie came flying right into her hair. "Not my hair!" Jean gasped, shaking it out as whipped cream fell down her back. But as she started to laugh, a second pie hit her in the chest. "Alright, now I'm done with this."
Lisa, however, had a much worse fate. She was hit by more pumpkin pies—five of them in rapid succession. "No, not again," she groaned, her face now buried in pumpkin filling. "This is too much," she said in a soft voice, wiping her face but only smearing it further. "Who has such a disturbing sense of humor?!"
Eula, looking more disgruntled than anyone, had a particularly unfortunate pie land on her again—blueberry pie, the one fruit she couldn't stand. "This is not funny anymore," she muttered, already brushing off pie after pie, her patience beginning to wear thin. But the next blueberry pie hit her straight in the side. "Ugh! If this continues, there will be consequences!" she warned.
Mona, who had been standing near the square, watching the chaos unfold, had no time to react before a giant pie descended from the sky, landing directly on her. The massive pie crushed her under its weight, whipped cream and pie filling splattering everywhere. Mona, stunned for a second, simply let out a groan. "This is... ridiculous," she said, standing up and brushing it off, but before she could move, another giant pie slammed into her from the side.
Rosaria, who had been staying to the edge of the madness, had pie after pie thrown at her. Three more pies hit her with precision. "This is... getting tiresome," she said, coldly wiping her face, but the slightest smirk appeared on her lips as she turned away, a small hint of amusement in her eyes.
And in the midst of it all, Venti, who had been watching the madness unfold with quiet enjoyment, was perfectly untouched. Not a single pie touched him. Instead, a flurry of pies surrounded him, each landing beside him, but never touching his skin. As the final touch, two high-quality bottles of wine landed on either side of him, positioned like a delicate garnish for his table.
He raised his glass with a sly smile, unbothered by the chaos surrounding him. "Ah, the pies know better than to mess with me." He took a sip, his laughter echoing in the distance. "The perfect day indeed."
Despite all the chaos, the laughter, the splats, and the mess, one thing was certain: Mondstadt would never forget the day the pies rained down on them—especially those who were repeatedly targeted by this ridiculous, never-ending pie storm. Everyone had been caught up in the whirlwind of whipped cream, fruit, and chaos, and yet, even with pies everywhere, there was still laughter ringing through the streets.
As the sun began to set over Mondstadt, the chaos of the day slowly started to die down. The once-bustling streets, now littered with pie remnants and whipped cream, were finally quiet. The air was still, save for the occasional giggle or sigh from the mess-covered townsfolk. It was as if the entire town had been part of some strange, chaotic dream.
Barbara and Noelle, who had been permanent targets throughout the day, looked like they had been through a small war. Covered in whipped cream and pie crust, they shared a tired but amused glance. "Well, at least we can't say we didn't get enough pies today," Barbara said with a laugh, her voice muffled by the whipped cream still stuck to her face.
Noelle, wiping her armor for what seemed like the hundredth time, sighed. "I think... I think it's finally over." She looked around at the aftermath, her once-polished armor now splattered with cream and pie filling. "I think I'm ready for a long, quiet bath... and a lot of towels."
Meanwhile, the other victims of the pie frenzy slowly began to gather, each of them in varying degrees of disarray. Amber, who had been hit a few times, was grinning from ear to ear despite being covered in pie. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" she asked, wiping her face and hands. "I mean, it was a little unexpected, but fun!"
Diluc, ever the stoic one, was still trying to brush the whipped cream off his coat. "Next time I'm locking myself in the tavern. Pies should stay outside," he muttered, but even he couldn't hold back a small chuckle.
Kaeya, in contrast, seemed to be enjoying his messy fate. "Ah, nothing like a good pie attack to brighten the day," he said, giving his now-soggy cape a playful shake. "Though I'm not sure I'll be able to look at another pie for a while."
Bennet, who had been hit a few times, stood with a big grin on his face, unbothered by the mess. "That was a blast, honestly! I think I had just enough pie today!"
Fischl, ever dramatic, was carefully cleaning off her feathered companion Oz. "This... this was no ordinary attack," she declared, glancing at Oz, who was equally drenched in whipped cream. "I will find the culprit, and they will be punished!" she said with an exaggerated huff, though there was an unmistakable hint of a smile beneath her serious demeanor.
Jean, her usually pristine appearance long gone, looked like she was just about ready to collapse. "I'm not sure I can handle another pie... Not today," she said with a laugh. "I think I've seen enough cream for one lifetime."
Lisa, looking like she'd been through a pumpkin-flavored nightmare, sighed in relief. "At least it's over... I hope no more pumpkin pies make a surprise appearance anytime soon." She looked down at her stained attire, then looked back at the others. "I think I'll avoid the kitchens for the next few days."
Eula, who had been relentlessly hit with blueberry pies, simply crossed her arms, staring at the horizon. "A day full of pies..." she muttered, still trying to brush off the last bits of blueberry filling. "I suppose there's a lesson in this somewhere. Maybe about restraint."
Mona, who had been hit with more pies than she could count, wiped her eyes and smiled, despite the state she was in. "Well, this has definitely been an eventful day... though, I'll be cleaning my robes for weeks."
Rosaria, who had been part of the pie barrage, let out a quiet laugh, though her expression remained serious. "I think the next time someone suggests a 'quiet walk,' we'll have to check the sky first."
And then there was Venti, the only one completely untouched, sitting under a tree, wine glass in hand, with two perfectly placed bottles of high-quality dandelion wine beside him. "Ahhh... this is the life," he sighed happily, his carefree laughter echoing through the evening air. "All those pies... so much fun, but I think I'll be staying in this spot for the night."
The townsfolk of Mondstadt slowly started to gather themselves, smiling through their pie-filled chaos. It had been a day of madness, one that would surely be talked about for years to come. With pie-covered smiles, the residents began cleaning up, some helping each other, others simply reflecting on the madness they'd just survived.
And just as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the last pie was thrown—this time not by accident, but by the satisfied laughter of everyone who had experienced the wildest pie-filled day Mondstadt had ever seen.
"Well," Barbara said, looking at the horizon with a tired smile. "That's definitely a day for the history books."
Noelle, wiping the last of the whipped cream off her face, gave a weary but contented nod. "A very sweet chapter, indeed."
As the sun rose over the bustling harbor of Liyue, the air was calm, the scent of sweet flowers and incense drifting through the streets. Merchants called out their wares, and the sea shimmered in the distance. It was a picture of serenity — at least for now.
But then, just like the pie-filled madness that once consumed Mondstadt, the chaos in Liyue was about to take a... spicier turn.
Without warning, a bowl of steaming hot noodles soared through the air, arcing in a perfect line before landing with a SPLAT directly onto Keqing's face.
The sudden heat of the broth and the tangle of noodles clinging to her hair and cheeks left her stunned for a moment. "W-what...?" she stammered, pulling a noodle from her forehead. "Who dares—?!"
Before she could even finish, two more bowls of noodles shot out from nowhere, splattering across her elegant outfit. The spicy broth dripped down her arms, and stray noodles dangled from her ears like absurd ornaments. "Oh come on!" Keqing growled, her normally composed demeanor starting to crack.
Nearby, Ningguang, who had been gracefully reviewing business documents in the open air, had barely looked up at Keqing's commotion when her own fate arrived. A single, perfectly aimed bowl of hot noodles struck her with precision — right on the face.
The bowl hung there for a moment, the steam swirling dramatically around her as if even the universe was stunned by the audacity of such an attack. Noodles slid slowly down her serene face and into her pristine white robes. Ningguang remained still, the only sign of her annoyance being a single twitch of her eyebrow.
"I see," she finally said, her voice calm but icy. "Even the noodles in Liyue have... ambition."
And then, Ganyu. Oh, poor Ganyu.
She had been minding her own business, quietly sorting through official documents, when the first bowl of hot noodles whipped through the air and landed on her face.
Before she could even gasp, another bowl hit her. Then another. And another.
By the time the sixth bowl of noodles struck her — broth splattering everywhere, steam fogging up her vision — Ganyu just stood there, stunned into silence. Noodles clung to her horns, broth dripped down her cheeks, and her once immaculate outfit was now a sticky, spicy mess.
Her lip trembled slightly. "Why... why so many noodles...?"
As the steam slowly rose from the trio — Keqing fuming, Ningguang calmly plotting her revenge, and Ganyu frozen in shock — the people of Liyue Harbor began to notice. Whispers spread, giggles escaped from the crowd, and the infamous noodle attack of Liyue had only just begun.
Because if Mondstadt had pies... Liyue now had noodles.
The chaos showed no signs of slowing down. Just as the last strands of noodles slid from Ganyu's horns, the next round of steaming attacks began — this time, zeroing in on Liyue's culinary master and her trusty companion.
Xiangling had been cheerfully explaining a new recipe to a few curious onlookers when the first bowl of hot noodles came flying from nowhere, landing squarely on her face.
"Ahhh—hot hot HOT!" she yelped, waving her hands frantically as the broth dripped from her hair. Before she could recover, four more bowls rained down, one after the other — SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT — coating her from head to toe in a tangled mess of noodles, broth, and seasoning.
"Who's throwing my own dish at me?!" she cried out, pulling a slippery noodle from her bangs. "At least use my good broth if you're gonna attack me!"
But poor Guoba wasn't spared either. He had been sitting calmly beside her, nibbling on a skewer of grilled meat, when — SPLAT — a bowl of steaming noodles hit him right on the snout. The little bear let out a startled squeal, shaking his head furiously as more noodles slid down his fur.
Another bowl, then another. Five in total.
Guoba blinked through the mess, his nose twitching, before flopping onto his back with a defeated little grunt. Xiangling patted his head with a sigh. "It's okay, Guoba... it's just noodles."
And then — Chongyun.
Poor, chilly Chongyun.
He had been standing off to the side, his usual icy aura keeping the air cool around him, when a bowl of noodles suddenly soared his way. But these weren't ordinary noodles — they were frozen.
The first bowl of ice-cold noodles hit his face with a frosty SMACK, bits of frozen broth and stiff noodles clinging to his hair and cheeks.
Chongyun blinked, already shivering. "C-c-cold..." he stammered.
Before he could gather himself, three more bowls of frozen noodles rained down, one after the other — the last bowl landing directly on top of his head like a strange, icy hat. His aura flared up in response, causing the frozen noodles to crack and shatter, bits of ice scattering at his feet.
He stood there, quaking from both cold and confusion. "W-why frozen noodles...?" he muttered, his teeth chattering slightly.
And then came Xingqiu.
He had been quietly reading a book — of course, because what else would he be doing? — when the first bowl of noodles gracefully landed right in his face.
There was a long pause, the broth dripping slowly down the pages of his now-ruined novel.
Xingqiu calmly peeled a noodle off his cheek, lips pressed in a thin line, and closed the soggy book with a wet squelch.
Before he could even react further, a second bowl of noodles came flying at him, splattering across his shoulder — and, for some reason, a random book came hurling through the air right behind it, landing neatly in his other hand.
Blinking, he stared down at the now-soggy noodle-covered book, his face a perfect mixture of confusion and annoyance.
"...Is the book an... added insult?" he asked aloud, holding it up. "Or a strange form of... compensation?"
Xiangling, still dripping with broth, gave a weak laugh. "Maybe it's a... limited-time offer?"
The crowd of Liyue Harbor watched in stunned silence, a few stifled giggles slipping through, as the noodle madness spread. From Keqing's furious glares to Guoba's defeated flop, and Xingqiu's confusion over his unexpected "gift," one thing was certain:
The noodle assault of Liyue was just getting started.
Ganyu, still standing in the aftermath of the first noodle barrage, barely had time to catch her breath before another seven bowls of hot noodles came flying toward her. Each one landed with SPLAT, one after the other, as she stood helplessly. The noodles stuck to her like an impossible tangle, draping across her shoulders, face, and even her horns.
"Ugh... not again..." she sighed, trying to swipe them off, but they just kept piling up. Ganyu looked like a walking noodle mess now, steam rising from her in waves. "Why me...?" she whispered, the weight of the noodles almost making her wobble.
And just as Ganyu attempted to get a hold of herself, a massive bowl of noodles appeared overhead, far bigger than any bowl she'd seen so far. The next victim was none other than Shenhe — the sister-like figure and adopted child of Ganyu, though their relationship was a strange one, to say the least. Shenhe was always calm and composed, but no one had ever dared to test her patience quite like this.
She had been standing nearby, minding her own business, when the enormous bowl of steaming noodles came crashing down upon her. SPLASH!
The sheer force of the impact knocked her to the ground, the noodles spilling over her like a flood. The hot broth sizzled against her clothes, and a giant noodle strand draped over her face like some strange battle flag. For a moment, everything was still.
Shenhe, whose icy composure was usually unmatched, now found herself buried under a mountain of noodles. Her expression was one of sheer disbelief. "...This... is an insult," she muttered, her tone low and cold, but there was a flicker of something else — something more dangerous — lurking in her eyes.
Ganyu, standing nearby, winced. "Oh no... I don't think you should've done that," she said quietly, her voice filled with a rare hint of concern for the attacker. Shenhe's usual calm was slowly giving way to a growing storm.
Shenhe sat up slowly, a dangerous glint in her eyes, and wiped noodles from her face with a deliberate, almost terrifying calmness. "This... I will not forget," she said softly, her voice carrying an unmistakable edge of cold fury.
The crowd around them grew silent, sensing that perhaps they'd witnessed the calm before a rather violent storm.
"Next time," Shenhe continued, her voice almost a whisper but filled with menace, "I'll make sure those noodles... don't survive."
Her aura suddenly shifted, a chilling wind swirling around her as her icy fury began to rise, the heat of the noodles no match for her frost-cold demeanor. Anyone nearby could feel the temperature dropping as the calm, calculating Shenhe stood, her gaze locked ahead, clearly preparing to take revenge on whoever thought it was a good idea to assault her with food.
The noodle chaos had now taken a turn, and Liyue — as well as all the unfortunate targets — could feel it. The storm had just begun.
The day in Liyue was quickly slipping into pure chaos. The steady rhythm of the harbor's activities had been replaced by an endless barrage of noodles and strange, comical mishaps.
First up, Xiangling and Guoba were caught off guard again. They were walking through the market, still recovering from their earlier noodle misfortune, when a fresh round of steaming noodles came hurtling toward them. SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT! Each bowl landed squarely on their faces with impeccable accuracy. Xiangling shrieked in surprise, noodles tangled in her hair and all over her robes. Guoba, on the other hand, let out a small yelp as he got hit on the nose once again, his tiny face completely buried in noodles.
"Not again!" Xiangling groaned, brushing noodle strands from her eyes. "Seriously, who's throwing these?!"
Before she could even compose herself, a fresh wave of noodles came flying toward Chongyun. The chilly boy had barely enough time to react before the five bowls of hot noodles splattered all over him, hitting him square on the face, the broth dripping down his frosty cheeks. He shivered, his teeth chattering not from cold, but the sheer surprise of it all.
"W-WHAT?! Not again! Why me?!" Chongyun's usual calm demeanor was being completely shattered as he tried to peel the noodles off his face with freezing hands.
Xingqiu, ever the cool-headed one, had been calmly reading a book again, hoping for some peace and quiet. But, of course, the universe had other plans. Before he even realized what was happening, five bowls of hot noodles came flying toward him, SPLAT, right on his face and shoulders. He barely had time to adjust his posture before they were splattered all over him.
"Why does this always happen when I'm reading?!" Xingqiu sighed, but instead of being truly frustrated, he found himself chuckling lightly, albeit a bit ruefully. It was almost as if fate had a vendetta against his peaceful moments.
And then there was Ganyu. Poor Ganyu, still caught in the whirlwind of noodle madness, was standing in the background, trying to regain her composure after the previous attack. But no one was done yet. From out of nowhere, 20 yes, 20 bowls of noodles came at her all at once, a continuous stream of noodle projectiles. They landed with thuds, splattering across her face, in her hair, on her clothes, and even against her horns, with the sheer force of the attack knocking her backward in a noodle-covered daze.
"N-NO!" Ganyu squeaked, trying to shield herself, but the noodles kept coming in wave after wave. By the time the last bowl landed, she looked like a walking noodle statue. Her usual graceful, calm demeanor had been replaced by pure, noodle-induced chaos. "This is... too much..." she muttered weakly, a noodle draped across her forehead like a headband.
Keqing, who had been trying to recover from her earlier noodle chaos, was hit yet again by a single bowl of noodles. This time, it splashed onto her face and trickled down her perfectly poised robes. She blinked in disbelief, her eyes narrowing. "Seriously? One more?!"
The air around her began to crackle with annoyance, the small flicker of lightning now gathering in her fingertips. "I swear, this is the last time..."
But it wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
Meanwhile, Zhongli, who had been sitting calmly at his usual spot in the harbor, was finally targeted. But instead of getting hit with a bowl of noodles directly to the face, something even more surreal happened. A large bowl of noodles, almost comically huge, flew toward him — but it never hit him. Instead, it landed perfectly on the table in front of him, untouched by his refined appearance. As if to add to the absurdity, a bottle of high-quality Osmanthus wine also dropped from the sky, landing beside the noodles with a satisfying thud.
Zhongli blinked in surprise, slowly lifting his hand to remove the now-warm noodles from the table. His eyes glanced down at the bottle of wine, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"...Now this," he said calmly, "is a most peculiar turn of events."
The crowd, still in shock from the chaotic noodle onslaught, found themselves at a loss for words as they saw the contrast: while everyone else had gotten hit in the face or covered head to toe, Zhongli had been treated to a perfectly served meal — his noodles and wine, with no mess to speak of.
"It seems my luck has changed..." Zhongli remarked with a calm chuckle, picking up the wine and taking a sip. "Though, I must admit, the idea of noodles was certainly unexpected today."
With everyone else dripping in noodles and boiling broth, the bizarre sight of Zhongli serenely sitting with his perfect meal was enough to make the crowd break into nervous laughter. They couldn't help but wonder who, exactly, was orchestrating this strange noodle attack. Whoever it was, they sure had a sense of dramatic timing.
As the sun began to set over Liyue Harbor, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the chaos was far from over. The day had seen so many noodle-filled mishaps that it almost felt like it was the beginning of some strange new tradition. But just as Zhongli sat there, sipping his Osmanthus wine, completely unaffected, the madness continued.
Beidou, the ever-bold captain of the Crux, had just arrived from the docks, her heavy boots clicking on the cobblestones. Her strong, confident stride cut through the air, and she seemed ready for whatever the day might bring—except for, of course, a flying bowl of noodles.
Out of nowhere, a massive wave of noodles came crashing down onto her. The hot broth splashed across her face and soaked into her jacket. Noodles slipped from her hair and down her arms, making a complete mess of the usually composed captain.
"What the—?" Beidou gasped in shock, swiping at the noodles dripping from her eyes, but it was too late. They kept coming. She had no time to react as another bowl of noodles splattered across her chest, followed by a third, then a fourth.
Her face twisted in an expression of disbelief. "Is this really happening right now?!"
Behind her, Ningguang, who had been walking quietly through the harbor, her elegant steps as graceful as ever, was caught completely off guard. A wave of noodles came flying toward her, this time more precise than ever. The hot broth splashed over her refined robes, the noodles sticking to her like some ridiculous form of punishment.
Ningguang's eyebrows twitched in annoyance as she wiped the broth from her cheek, her usual calm and poised demeanor slipping ever so slightly. "...Not again." Her voice, though soft, carried the weight of someone who had reached the limit of her patience.
The crowd stood in stunned silence, watching as the two powerful women, known for their strength and grace, were reduced to noodle-covered messes. Beidou, who could face anything with a grin, now found herself struggling to remove noodles from her braids. Ningguang, ever the dignified one, was splashed with broth in a way that threatened her perfectly curated reputation. Yet, neither of them moved an inch from their positions, seemingly unphased by the absurdity of the situation.
"I've had enough of this," Beidou muttered, shaking off the noodles as best she could, and then, with a mischievous grin, she turned toward Ningguang. "Hey, Ningguang, looks like we're both in the same boat. Want to go get some actual food after this?"
Ningguang gave her a long, unamused look before sighing, adjusting her robes with one graceful movement. "I'd rather not. But it seems we don't get to choose our fate today, do we?"
As they both attempted to regain some shred of dignity, the scene around them only grew stranger. Zhongli, of course, continued to sit with his perfect meal, seemingly untouched by the noodle madness. His serene expression almost looked too good to be true, sitting there as if he had orchestrated the entire event just to create the perfect moment of tranquility.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Liyue residents, including Ganyu—still standing in a noodle-covered daze in the background—couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. No one was safe from the noodle onslaught, and even the proud Beidou had become a casualty of the day's chaos.
But if there was one thing certain in Liyue, it was that, no matter how many bowls of noodles you threw, there was always someone more unfortunate than you.
Just as the last of the noodle chaos seemed to be dying down—or so everyone thought—the spotlight shifted to a familiar yet enigmatic figure.
Xianyun, the graceful adeptus known for her ethereal beauty and calm demeanor, had been quietly observing the commotion from a distance. Clad in her flowing robes and with an air of unbothered elegance, she seemed utterly untouchable—until, of course, fate decided otherwise.
Out of nowhere, a bowl of steaming noodles whizzed through the air and smacked Xianyun right in the face.
SPLOSH.
The noodles clung to her delicate features, strands draping across her hair like chaotic decorations, broth dripping slowly down her chin. For a brief moment, the air felt frozen. The crowd collectively held their breath.
Xianyun, unmoving, slowly raised a hand to wipe a noodle strand from her cheek, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly—not in rage, but in a calm, calculating way. She tilted her head just a fraction, as though pondering the absurdity of the situation.
"...Fascinating," she murmured softly, her voice cool and distant, though the noodles clinging to her face made the image undeniably comedic.
Meanwhile, at the same table, Zhongli remained as composed as ever. Another bowl of noodles—his favorite—landed softly in front of him, perfectly served, followed once again by yet another bottle of high-quality wine, which gently settled beside his meal as though placed there by some unseen, courteous hand.
Zhongli, ever the picture of serenity, glanced down at his newly-arrived dish, then back up at Xianyun, his expression neutral—but perhaps, just perhaps, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickered in his golden eyes. "It seems the heavens have chosen to favor me once more," he mused, lifting his wine glass gracefully.
And then... it happened again.
Poor Ganyu, already a victim of relentless noodle attacks throughout the day, suddenly found herself at the mercy of yet another round.
Not one, not ten, but forty bowls of noodles came flying at her in rapid succession. It was a barrage unlike anything seen before—a merciless noodle storm.
WHAM. WHAM. WHAM.
Each bowl struck her with perfect aim—her face, her shoulders, even her horns, each one dripping with hot broth and tangled noodles. Ganyu flailed helplessly, trying to shield herself, but there was no escape.
"Nooooo—!" she wailed, her voice muffled by the endless cascade of noodles.
By the time the 40th bowl had landed, Ganyu was completely unrecognizable, buried beneath a mountain of steaming, slippery noodles. The only indication that she was still there was the faint sound of her voice from somewhere beneath the pile.
"...Why... me... again..."
The crowd watched in stunned silence—half in awe, half in stifled laughter—as Xianyun stood with noodles slipping off her serene face, Ganyu struggled beneath her mountain of culinary torment, and Zhongli... simply enjoyed his perfectly prepared meal without a single drop out of place.
It was chaos. It was comedy.
It was Liyue.
The noodle barrage showed no signs of stopping. If anything, it was gaining momentum, almost like Liyue itself had conspired to turn the day into a chaotic, culinary disaster.
Xinyan, mid-tune, was strumming her guitar near the harbor when it happened. She barely had time to register the incoming attack before SPLAT — a bowl of steaming noodles smacked her right in the face.
"Whoa—!" she yelped, stumbling back as the broth dripped down her cheeks and noodles tangled in her hair, strands of it now mixing with her signature fiery locks. But it didn't stop there. Four more bowls followed in quick succession — SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT — hitting her square in the face and chest.
"Aw, come on! My guitar!" Xinyan groaned, furiously trying to wipe the broth off her instrument.
Not far from her, Yanfei was in the middle of reciting a legal clause to a very confused merchant when— WHAM — a bowl of noodles smacked into her face.
"Objection!" she sputtered, broth dripping from her horns and the delicate scales on her arms. "Who threw that? This is illegal! I think...?"
Before she could gather herself, another four bowls rained down on her, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, leaving her drenched and furious, her legal notes now sopping wet and plastered with stray noodles.
Yelan, who had been lurking in the background—possibly investigating the sudden influx of flying food—was no exception. She gracefully dodged the first noodle bowl with a flicker of her dice and a smirk, but her luck ran out soon enough.
WHAM — the second bowl caught her off guard, square on the side of her face.
"...Seriously?" she muttered, the broth sliding down her sleek outfit.
Before she could react, another four bowls rained down in rapid succession — SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT — hitting her face, shoulder, and back. Yelan clenched her jaw, wiping the broth off her cheek with an icy glare that would have sent most people running — though, apparently, not whoever was throwing the noodles.
And then there was Yun Jin.
The elegant opera singer had been in the middle of a dramatic performance, her voice echoing through the harbor, enchanting the crowd—until a bowl of noodles smacked into her feet mid-step. She staggered, but to her credit, didn't miss a note.
But then— WHAM — a second bowl hit her square in the face, sending a shower of noodles flying into her intricately styled hair. The crowd gasped, some unsure whether to applaud her professionalism or burst into laughter.
"...A most unusual interruption," Yun Jin said calmly, delicately removing a noodle strand from her forehead.
Meanwhile, Zhongli...
He simply sat there. Serene. Untouched. A new bowl of steaming noodles had appeared perfectly placed in front of him, alongside another bottle of high-quality wine, both landing with precision and grace.
Zhongli took a slow, unbothered sip of his wine, then picked up his chopsticks and calmly tasted his meal — all while the chaos unfolded around him.
Even as Ganyu—still struggling under her never-ending noodle barrage—was struck by ten more bowls with loud SPLAT SQUELCH SPLASH sounds, he remained the picture of tranquility. Ganyu let out a small, defeated whimper from beneath the growing mountain of noodles, the only visible part of her now being her horns poking out like twin beacons of suffering.
And then — as if fate was playing a twisted joke — Xianyun, who had just finished brushing the last noodle off her elegant robes, was struck again. Another bowl soared out of nowhere, smacking her directly on the cheek.
She blinked, slowly wiping away the broth dripping down her face, her expression unreadable. "...Curious."
At last, Xianyun turned her gaze to Zhongli. There was a long silence as she studied him — his spotless robes, his untouched meal, the perfect wine bottle gleaming beside him.
"Zhongli," she said at last, calm yet pointed. "Why are you the only one unscathed?"
Zhongli paused mid-sip, as though considering the question. He set his wine glass down gently and glanced at her with a faint, enigmatic smile.
"Perhaps," he mused softly, "it is simply a matter of balance."
Xianyun's expression didn't change, but the silence between them spoke volumes.
Balance? Or was it something else entirely?
The mystery deepened — as did the pile of noodles covering Ganyu.
Just when it seemed like Liyue had reached its peak of culinary chaos, the skies themselves seemed to betray its people.
Without warning, a torrent of noodles rained down, an unstoppable storm of steaming bowls descending upon the city like a merciless tempest.
Keqing, who had just finished wiping off the last noodle from her earlier misfortune, barely had time to blink before— SPLAT. A bowl hit her square in the face, knocking her back a step.
"No— not again!" she shouted, but there was no mercy. The rain of noodles kept coming—left, right, everywhere. Each strike seemed more absurd than the last, leaving Keqing flustered and drenched in broth.
Beside her, Beidou let out a loud curse as noodles smacked into her shoulder and face, the sheer force of one bowl knocking the captain's hat clean off her head. "Alright, who's behind this?!" she roared, shaking off the noodles only for another four bowls to splat across her chest.
Ningguang, ever the picture of elegance, tried to sidestep the incoming attack, but there was no escaping this storm. A bowl of noodles landed gracefully—yet mockingly—on her shoulder, the broth soaking into her refined robes. A second hit her on the head, and the strands of noodles tangled into her silvery hair. Her fingers twitched slightly, her patience wearing thin.
"I am losing my composure," she said softly—dangerously softly.
Then came Shenhe. The stoic adeptus, normally so detached from human affairs, simply stood there as the noodle rain pummeled her without hesitation. A bowl slammed into her side, another plopped onto her head, and three more followed, yet she barely flinched. Shenhe only blinked, wiping a lone noodle from her face. "...Is this a mortal tradition?" she asked, deadpan.
Xiangling and Guoba weren't spared either. Xiangling yelped as the first bowl struck her forehead, her chef's outfit now completely soaked in broth. "Hey! These noodles aren't even seasoned properly!" she cried, dodging left and right as more rained down. Poor Guoba was hit squarely by a large bowl, his tiny arms flailing as he toppled backward with a muffled squeal.
Chongyun, ever sensitive to heat, visibly paled as the steaming noodles splattered across him. "T-too hot..." he stammered, furiously trying to shake the noodles off as another four bowls hit him, one knocking his ice-imbued claymore right out of his hand.
Xingqiu, in the midst of reading, didn't even have time to shut his book before— WHAM. A bowl of noodles struck him directly on the cover, sending broth and pages flying. "My... my book," he whispered in horror, as two more bowls pelted him from both sides.
Yelan, still brooding from her earlier ambush, dodged one bowl only to get slammed by another straight into her back. She clenched her jaw, clearly unamused. "This is getting old," she muttered, wiping broth from her face as more noodles fell like a curse from the heavens.
Yanfei tried to recite a legal decree about public disturbances, but each word was cut off by a bowl of noodles— SPLAT. "Under Liyue law— SPLAT— I hereby declare— SPLAT— this is highly unlawful— SPLAT!"
Xinyan, still wiping her guitar clean, let out an exaggerated groan as more noodles rained down on her. "I can't rock like this!" she yelled, flinching as a hot bowl hit her square in the chest again. "This is sabotage!"
Yun Jin, now thoroughly drenched, stood as still as a statue, her opera makeup running and her hair a mess of broth and noodles. Despite everything, she cleared her throat, adjusted her posture, and solemnly said, "The show... must go on." Another bowl hit her squarely on the nose.
And then—Ganyu.
Oh, poor, poor Ganyu.
While the others were caught in the storm, Ganyu was facing something far worse. It wasn't just the rain of noodles—it was a targeted onslaught.
Rapid-fire bowls came from every angle— left, right, above, below— ten more slamming into her.
"Why... why is it always me?" she whimpered, her voice barely audible beneath the mountain of noodles piling higher and higher. She was practically buried at this point, only the tips of her horns poking out from the growing mound of broth and strands.
And in the eye of the storm... was Zhongli.
Still untouched. Still perfectly composed.
Another bowl of noodles landed elegantly in front of him, and a fresh bottle of Osmanthus wine followed immediately after—neither spilling a single drop. Zhongli gave the wine a small, approving nod before calmly taking another sip, his expression as serene as ever.
And then— SPLAT.
Xianyun, just as she wiped off the last noodle from her face, was hit again. Right on the cheek.
The broth dripped slowly, but her face remained as impassive as ever—though the slightest furrow of her brow betrayed her mounting confusion. She turned once more to Zhongli, narrowing her eyes.
"Zhongli," she said softly, noodles hanging from her hair, "this cannot be mere coincidence."
Zhongli sipped his wine thoughtfully, his lips barely curving into what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Perhaps," he mused, "the world simply seeks... balance."
Before Xianyun could respond—
"Wahahaha!"
A new voice echoed through the harbor—Hu Tao.
Skipping into the scene with her usual playful energy, Hu Tao clapped her hands together. "What's all this? A noodle parade? Why didn't anyone invite me?" she grinned.
And then— SPLAT.
A single bowl of noodles hit her directly in the face.
Her mouth, open mid-laugh, filled instantly with broth and noodles.
There was a stunned silence. Noodles dripped down her cheeks, sliding off her hat, hanging from her chin like a sad noodle beard.
"...Hehe," Hu Tao finally muttered through a mouthful of broth. "Spicy."
And somewhere, somehow, the noodle storm raged on.
Just when the madness seemed to be reaching its peak, the noodle storm found new targets.
Hu Tao, still reeling from the first bowl of noodles, barely had time to blink before— SPLAT—another bowl smacked her right in the face again.
"Mphff!" she grunted, noodles clinging to her hair and hat like soggy decorations. She wiped the broth from her mouth with a playful smirk. "Hehe... okay, now this is just getting personal."
And then—two more unsuspecting souls arrived.
Baizhu and Qiqi had just returned from Bubu Pharmacy, the calmness in their steps a stark contrast to the noodle storm awaiting them.
Baizhu adjusted his glasses, his signature smile faintly present. "Ah, what a peculiar gathering. I wonder wha—"
WHAM.
A bowl of noodles hit him squarely in the face, his jade-green hair instantly soaked with broth, strands of noodles clinging to his robes. He blinked slowly, his usual composed demeanor cracking for a brief second.
"...How unexpected," he muttered, peeling a noodle off his shoulder.
Qiqi, standing beside him, tilted her head in her usual, emotionless way. "Noodles...?"
Before she could process it further— SPLAT.
A second bowl hit her, right in the forehead, noodles hanging like limp vines from her hat. Another bowl followed right after, slapping her shoulder with a wet plop.
Qiqi blinked, her blank expression unchanged. "...I forgot what I was doing."
Baizhu sighed softly, still wiping broth from his glasses. "This... may require some medicine."
But the storm wasn't done.
A sudden whoosh echoed through the harbor as a streak of teal light shot past—Xiao, the vigilant yaksha, arriving like a blur of wind and shadow. His spear shimmered with anemo energy, his gaze sharp.
"I sensed a disturbance," he said, his voice calm yet alert. "What is—?"
Before he could finish— WHOOSH.
From all sides—left, right, above, below—ten bowls of noodles surged toward him like they had a mind of their own.
His instincts kicked in instantly. Xiao darted to the left— SPLAT—a bowl caught him on the shoulder.
He leapt backward— SPLAT—another bowl struck his back.
He tried to phase through with anemo energy— SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT—three more bowls twisted in midair, homing in on him like culinary missiles.
"What...?" Xiao growled, narrowly dodging another bowl—only for four more to corner him in the air.
SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT.
In the blink of an eye, Xiao was pelted from all directions. His usually pristine yaksha robes were now drenched in broth, noodles draped over his horns and tangled in his hair.
He landed with a thud, his spear clattering to the ground, his expression a rare mix of disbelief and silent rage. "...Impossible," he muttered, a single noodle sliding down his cheek.
And, of course...
Zhongli.
Untouched. Unbothered.
Another bowl of perfectly presented noodles appeared in front of him, followed—once again—by a bottle of high-quality Osmanthus wine, landing softly beside his meal.
Not a drop spilled. Not a noodle out of place.
Zhongli gently picked up his chopsticks, gave a thoughtful glance to the now-soaked Xiao, Baizhu, and Qiqi, and took another sip of his wine.
Xianyun, still wiping the third noodle off her face, stared at Zhongli in absolute silence.
"...Balance?" she asked flatly.
Zhongli smiled ever so faintly. "Balance."
And somewhere beneath a mountain of noodles, Ganyu whimpered softly.