Morax the Geo Archon: Billionaire in the Chat Group

"Hey, Bird Lady, I can't just keep calling you that, can I?"

"And what's wrong with 'Bird Lady'? In our world, strange nicknames are a common occurrence. One more won't hurt. Or, you could call me Morax. That's what others refer to me as—a god among demons."

"Morax, huh? It doesn't roll off the tongue. Sounds foreign. With your ethereal Chinese immortal aesthetic, I ought to give you a name more fitting to that style."

"Heavy or light, fitting or not—does it matter? Rather than wasting your thoughts on such trivialities, why not focus on growing something delicious instead?"

"No, I must name you."

"Fine, fine. Do as you please."

"Alright then... hmm... I'll borrow a character from my own name, and... let's see… I'll call you Qingyun."

"Whatever you say. From now on, I am Qingyun. Now go and make me some food. I want that fine-ground millet dish you mentioned last time—what was it? Oh yes, noodle droplets!"

"Hey, hey! At least show some gratitude! I just gave you a name. Shouldn't you thank me or show a little courtesy?"

"Hurry up, or I'll have you gather 777 Glaze Lilies for wine brewing. You know how much I love that flavor."

"Are you trying to kill me? Glaze Lilies are even more of a hassle to gather than Windwheel Asters, and you want 777 of them?"

"Then go cook already!"

"Fine, fine..."

---

In the present, the voices of a distant memory faded into silence as Zhongli slowly opened his eyes.

The fragments of the past brought a faint smile to his lips.

Feeling a rare lightness in his heart, he rose from bed and donned his formal attire. Leaving his rented room in Liyue Harbor, he began walking toward the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

Today was a workday, fulfilling his duties as a consultant—a role he had taken on under a mutually agreed contract.

---

Zhongli's mornings followed a predictable rhythm.

Around 6:30 AM, he would stop by a teahouse for breakfast: a cup of freshly brewed tea, some light snacks, and the soothing melody of the storyteller's voice narrating tales of bygone days.

Half an hour later, he would make his way to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

Although punctuality wasn't strictly necessary for his consultant role, Zhongli adhered strictly to the principle of honoring agreements.

At precisely 6:59 AM, he would appear at Wangsheng's doors, exchanging greetings with the staff as they opened for business.

From there, he would proceed to the main hall, where his assistant awaited him.

"Good morning, my dear assistant. I hope I'm not intruding. Here, I brought something for you—fresh Glaze Lily Pastries from Liulitang. They're still warm and perfect as a light breakfast."

His assistant blinked in surprise, looking up at Zhongli with wide eyes.

She hesitated but ultimately accepted the treat, her face tinged with a faint blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Zhongli."

"These pastries have a three-hundred-and-seventy-year legacy. They're made using the roots of Glaze Lilies found on cliff faces, paired with petals of Glaze Lilies in full bloom. Known for their restorative properties, they nourish the blood and promote energy flow. They're particularly beneficial for women during… challenging times of the month."

He spoke as if reciting a well-practiced monologue, explaining the pastries' history and benefits in great detail. "I noticed you've often skipped breakfast and looked unwell. This should ease your discomfort for the day."

"Mr. Zhongli…"

Her serene demeanor faltered briefly as if she wanted to say something but ultimately fell silent. Instead, she whispered his name with a hint of emotion.

"There's no rush today. I'll wait here while you eat. Afterward, we can head to Wanmin Restaurant for a cup of sweetened soy milk before we start the day."

With a polite nod, Zhongli stepped aside and took a seat, allowing her to enjoy her meal in peace.

She curtsied in gratitude before retreating to the back room.

About half an hour later, she returned, refreshed and ready, her outfit carefully arranged. Together, they left Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, their destination being a handful of shops scheduled for negotiations.

The pace of the morning was unhurried, the agenda not particularly demanding.

Neither of them were talkative by nature, so they strolled through the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor in companionable silence, one leading slightly ahead of the other.

Raindrops began to fall softly, unnoticed at first, then gradually increasing in number.

It was early spring, and the rain lent a dreamlike haze to Liyue Harbor. Mist hung in the air, and the streets grew quieter as pedestrians sought shelter.

A simple oil-paper umbrella, adorned with an elegant lotus design, unfolded above his assistant's head, shielding her from the chill of the drizzle.

"I observed the weather this morning and suspected it might rain, so I brought an umbrella just in case," Zhongli explained, his voice calm as always. "Most here in Liyue are accustomed to this light rain and seldom carry umbrellas. You're usually the same, but considering your health today, I thought it prudent."

She nodded slightly, her expression remaining composed. "Thank you."

And so, in serene silence once more, they continued their journey.

---

The first stop of the day was a shop called Xianglin Hall.

Standing outside the modest establishment, Zhongli's assistant consulted her notebook and confirmed the shop's name with her senior.

"This is Xianglin Hall."

"Indeed, it is."

Entering the shop, they found a young man lounging in a wicker chair. He was dressed in fine silk robes, holding a handful of over-roasted peanuts in one hand and a wine jug in the other.

The man was visibly tipsy, barely noticing their arrival.

Only when Zhongli's assistant placed Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's plaque before him did he react, lazily rising to his feet as if awakening from a dream.

Rubbing his eyes and blinking blearily, he stared at them for a long moment before realization dawned.

"Oh, right! Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. I nearly forgot—it's today, isn't it? You're here to help me sell off my dead father's collection, correct?"

"That's right," the assistant confirmed.

"Yeah, I almost forgot all about it…"