As the night wore on, Hu Tao led me on a walk through the quiet streets of Liyue Harbor, pointing out hidden temples and shrines dedicated to the worship of various deities. We strolled past the bustling night markets, where vendors sold everything from steaming street food to exotic trinkets. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and music, a lively contrast to the more subdued atmosphere of the funeral parlor.
This is the most vulnerable part of the night. She pours the tea. It tastes like ash and honey. Life in Teyvat- Night with Hu Tao
The lanterns of Liyue Harbor bobbed in the distance, a sea of golden shimmering reflections against the dark water, but up on the porch of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the world was quiet. The bustling commerce of the day had retired, leaving only the rhythmic chirping of crickets and the distant lapping of the tide. As the night wore on, Hu Tao led
“Ah,” she called before I could announce myself, not even turning around. Her voice held the same playful lilt as always, like a nursery rhyme sung in a minor key. “Your shadow said hello before your mouth did. Come sit. Night’s just getting interesting.” This is the most vulnerable part of the night
A short observational report describing an evening spent with Hu Tao (Wangsheng Funeral Parlor branch director) in Liyue: atmosphere, activities, character behaviors, and cultural notes.
As night fell, Hu Tao led me to the outskirts of Liyue, where the streets were lined with flickering lanterns and the sound of distant music drifted through the air. We walked in comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft crunch of gravel beneath our feet. It was as if the night itself was alive, and we were its companions.