Liyue Harbor stirred with the dawn, its industrious spirit awakening under the first light.
Workers swarmed the pier, their shouts mingling with the creak of wooden cranes.
They hauled crates of fish and ore, sweat glistening as the sun crept higher.
Xander stood atop the tallest wooden frame, the harbor sprawling below in a mosaic of activity.
He'd chosen this perch to harness the sunrise's energy for his lottery draw.
Teyvat's sun, though a celestial illusion, radiated a warmth that felt almost divine.
He mused on its power, wishing he could absorb it like a fabled hero from another world.
If he were such a being, the sun's rays might render him invincible.
But he was no such legend—just a man with a system and a penchant for mischief.
He steadied himself, feet together, arms raised high in a reverent pose.
"May the sun's light guide my fortune," he intoned, a prayer to the dawn.
As a seasoned adventurer, the sun's glow always stirred a primal urge within him.
He couldn't help but honor it, a ritual born of habit and hope.
Children playing nearby spotted him, their laughter echoing across the pier.
They mimicked his stance, arms aloft, giggling as they praised the sun in jest.
Xander nodded approvingly, a grin tugging at his lips.
These little ones might have the spark to fuel great deeds one day.
He closed his eyes, silently offering another prayer to the fates.
The lottery chance from last night burned in his mind, a promise of possibility.
In his consciousness, the system flared to life, a cosmic stage unfolding.
Clouds parted, revealing three meteors streaking through a mental sky.
Their colors shifted mid-flight—two glowed white, one shimmered green.
"Congratulations, host—you've obtained a box of herbal toothpaste," the system chimed.
"Congratulations, host—you've obtained a premium off-road motorcycle," it continued.
"Congratulations, host—you've obtained an Adventurer's Pocket Watch (Class C)," it concluded.
Xander's eye twitched, a mix of disbelief and frustration bubbling within.
He'd praised the sun, yet Teyvat's false star mocked him with its meager gifts.
A box of toothpaste—herbal, no less—felt like a cosmic jest.
True, Teyvat had its own toothpastes, but he craved the minty bite of his homeland's brand.
The off-road motorcycle, at least, was a practical boon.
It wasn't the towering mech or starship he'd dreamed of, but it would do.
Far better than walking the long road to Mondstadt, he reasoned.
The Adventurer's Pocket Watch, however, was a disappointment.
A Class C relic held little power, useless without a Vision to channel its energy.
Xander lacked the Eye of God, rendering the trinket a mere bauble.
He sighed, the sun's warmth now feeling more like a taunt than a blessing.
"Should've drawn at Qunyu Pavilion—Ningguang's luck might've rubbed off," he muttered.
His liver ached with the sting of a lackluster draw, the morning's promise soured.
Still, the motorcycle offered some solace, a silver lining in the dawn's jest.
He stowed the toothpaste in his system space, a memento of home for later.
The pocket watch joined it, a keepsake he might trade at some merchant's stall.
With preparations complete, Xander descended the pier, ready to depart.
He summoned the motorcycle, its sleek black frame gleaming in the sunlight.
The engine roared to life with a twist of the throttle, a beast eager to run.
He sped out of Liyue's South Gate, the city's walls blurring in his wake.
The bike surged up a high slope, the harbor shrinking to a speck behind him.
Onlookers gaped, their jaws dropping at the unfamiliar contraption.
Teyvat's roads knew horse-drawn carriages and lumbering hot-air balloons.
Caravans and Millelith relied on steeds, but horses were scarce and slow.
Even the fastest rider couldn't match the motorcycle's blistering pace.
Whispers of envy followed him, the crowd marveling at his speed.
Xander grinned, the wind whipping through his hair as he raced onward.
But a few miles out, the thrill faded, replaced by a jarring reality.
Liyue's main road, paved with uneven stones, rattled his bones.
The bike jolted with every cobble, a relentless assault on his frame.
It felt like balancing on a spinning contraption, fragile and unforgiving.
He winced, imagining the discomfort of a longer ride on this path.
Off the main road, Liyue's terrain offered no reprieve for his steed.
Rugged cliffs, winding ravines, and rocky outcrops defied the bike's design.
An off-road motorcycle couldn't conquer the land's untamed wilds.
Reluctantly, he stowed the bike in his system space, its engine falling silent.
The morning's draw, it seemed, had been a hollow victory after all.
He sighed, resigned to travel on foot, the journey stretching long before him.
Still, the bike might prove useful later—perhaps with a companion to share the ride.
He imagined a partner, their laughter mingling with the engine's roar.
The thought brought a smirk, a fleeting fantasy to lighten his mood.
For now, he'd alternate between speed and leisure, a balanced approach.
He tapped into his enhanced abilities, magic coursing through his veins.
His form blurred into a blue afterimage, a streak of motion along the road.
Sonic booms cracked the air, his speed shattering the sound barrier with ease.
The landscape shifted rapidly, Liyue's jagged peaks giving way to flatter lands.
He reached Guili Plains, a vast expanse steeped in ancient history.
Relics dotted the fields, remnants of the Archon War's devastating toll.
Once, this place was simply called "Li," named for the Dust Goddess.
Her people, the Limin, thrived under her gentle, protective reign.
They flourished, their lives a testament to peace and prosperity.
In time, they spoke to Morax, declaring their home a place of return.
Thus, Guili Plains was born, a name echoing their heartfelt gratitude.
Xander slowed, his gaze sweeping over the weathered stones and faded sigils.
The bond between Morax and the Dust Goddess remained a mystery to him.
Teyvat's chronicles offered no clear answers, only whispers and speculation.
Some claimed a deep connection, a partnership forged in war and loss.
Others saw it as mere legend, a tale spun by those who romanticized the past.
Xander shrugged, the history too murky to unravel in a single morning.
He pressed on, the plains stretching wide under the sun's unyielding gaze.
The Shadowfang Blade thrummed at his side, a quiet companion on the road.
Guili Plains whispered of forgotten gods, their echoes a song for his journey.
***
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