Genshin x Minecraft: Building the Temple of Virtue

The silence within the villa carried a distinct, peculiar weight. While the baseline outcome was undeniably a triumph, Baizhu remained suspended in a complex internal labyrinth. It was not a state of withdrawal, even if the grand sum of his two decades of agonizing labor had been thoroughly eclipsed in fewer than twenty minutes by the structural laws of this new world.

Health and immortality were both secured.

By any reasonable metric, it was a moment for profound celebration, yet the memory of crawling through frozen peaks and desolate marshlands for twenty years in search of a cure made the sheer simplicity of the resolution feel entirely unnatural. It was a friction of the mind that ordinary men might call sentimentality.

Ryen chose not to linger on the physician’s internal philosophy. Baizhu’s condition had never been his primary concern. With that initial matter settled, the truly critical objective of the day moved to the forefront.

The lingering affliction of his young companion, Qiqi, required immediate intervention.

The heavy wooden doors swung open as Buer stepped into the room, with Nilou and her companions following closely behind. The daily competitive matches in Sumeru had evidently drawn to a close.

Ryen’s posture relaxed significantly the moment he noticed the Dendro Archon’s arrival. ”You chose the perfect time to return. I was just about to look for you.”

”For me?” Buer stopped, her voice carrying a trace of mild surprise. While she could easily comprehend Ryen seeking out Nahida, an explicit request for her own presence was a rare occurrence.

Ryen placed a hand gently upon Qiqi’s small cap, keeping his voice low and deliberate. ”It concerns Qiqi. The nature of her condition is highly anomalous. I intend to attempt a complete cure, but the intersection of her state with the laws of this world carries unknown variables. As the God of Verdure, your domain aligns far more closely with the stabilization of life energy than Rex Lapis or the others. If a spiritual or physical rejection occurs, you will notice it first.”

Buer’s expression cleared into understanding.

She offered a slow nod. ”I understand. I have encountered the records of Qiqi’s history within the memory repositories of the Irminsul. The ancient crossfire of the Archon War resulted in her transformation into a zombie, did it not?”

”If only the parameters were that straightforward,” Ryen muttered, shaking his head slightly before methodically detailing the precise physiological contradictions within Qiqi’s vessel.

By the time he finished, Buer’s brow had knitted into a distinct frown, her small hands resting against her chin. ”Part adeptus, part walking corpse. To hold two entirely opposing states of existence in a permanent loop is a biological impossibility by Teyvat’s standards.”

She leaned closer to inspect the silent child. ”However, considering that the baseline Healing Potions produced no adverse necrotic reactions when she consumed them previously, her adeptal composition likely commands the dominant share of her physical identity. Or rather, the systemic logic of your world simply refuses to categorize her as an undead entity.”

Ryen did not immediately answer, reaching out instead to press two fingers against Qiqi’s tiny wrist. He possessed no formal medical training, but the primal authority of his position allowed him to perceive the raw status of her internal functions.

”The heart remains entirely static, and the internal organs are non-functional,” Ryen observed, his voice flat.

Buer let out a soft, helpless sigh. ”I cannot guarantee a flawless outcome. My capacity here will be limited to anchoring her soul and preserving her fundamental spark of life should the artifact cause an energetic collapse.”

”That is more than sufficient,” Ryen said, his fingers sliding into his inventory. ”We will initiate the process with an Enchanted Golden Apple. If the conceptual cleansing fails to take hold, we will pivot to Zhongli’s therapeutic staves. In the absolute worst-case scenario, we will ensure she keeps a Totem of Undying equipped and observe the physical restructuring when it triggers.”

A faint collective ripple of amusement passed through the room.

Had it been Baizhu standing there, Ryen would have unhesitatingly suggested leaping from a cloud-level platform without a water bucket to force-start the resurrection cycle. But where Qiqi was concerned, such callous calculations were entirely absent.

The surrounding crowd closed into a tight perimeter around the small girl, who maintained her characteristic, detached stare. Zhongli and the gathered adepti shifted their weight, their internal elemental energies humming just beneath the surface, prepared to flood her small frame with raw adeptal force at a moment’s notice. Buer remained exactly half a step behind Ryen, her green eyes wide and focused.

An assembly consisting of the World Sovereign, two divine Archons, multiple gods, and dozens of ancient illuminated beasts stood guard over a single child.

Such a defensive concentration had no historical precedent. Throughout the entire history of Teyvat, only Qiqi had ever commanded such an array of power for a personal healing.

Ryen sank down onto one knee, bringing his line of sight level with the small girl. His voice lost every trace of its usual commanding edge, replaced by an absolute gentleness. ”Qiqi, do you wish to be free of your sickness?”

The words seemed to take a long time to navigate the slow pathways of her mind. Usually, any external stimulus required several seconds to register, and often failed entirely. Yet the specific concept of the sickness caused her small shoulders to straighten.

Her pale violet eyes widened. ”Sickness... Qiqi does not like the cold sickness.”

”Qiqi wants... to stay,” she whispered, her fingers curling into her dress. ”Qiqi wants to remember everyone.”

Ryen’s hand rested gently against her head. Among the young companions he had taken under his care, none carried a heavier legacy of silent suffering than this small herb gatherer. Compared to the boisterous life of Klee, Qiqi had been left with nothing but an empty slate and a failing vessel.

The fact that her chronological age spanned over a millennium mattered less than nothing to him. Paimon, whose origins predated entire civilizations, spent every morning curled into his coat demanding sweet treats. In the grand scope of these worlds, age was merely a sequence of numbers.

”Consume this golden fruit, and the cold inside will go away,” Ryen explained with deliberate patience.

Complex explanations would only slip through her memory like sand, but the singular directive of healing was an anchor her subconscious could grasp. It was an obsession identical to her primal desire to survive.

Her small hand reached out, her pale fingers wrapping around the shifting, incandescent surface of the Enchanted Golden Apple. She brought it to her lips, taking small, measured bites like a small animal, entirely oblivious to the tension gripping the room.

Every eye remained fixed on her small form.

The absolute universality of the Enchanted Golden Apple was a proven law. It had systematically purged the corrosive karmic binding from Xiao and completely halted the deep-seated erosion within Zhongli’s ancient mind. If it could sever curses woven into the very fabric of Teyvat’s oldest entities, there was no logical basis for it to fail against the structural side effects of a zombie’s existence.

In the baseline logic of the block world, an ordinary golden apple was all that was required to purge the zombie state from a villager and restore their humanity.

The sole uncertainty lay within her thousands of years of containment. The stasis might have permanently fused her adeptal grace with the necrotic state, turning the amnesia into a fundamental pillar of her soul rather than a simple disease.

An Enchanted Golden Apple functioned by stripping away anomalies to restore the base template of life. If her memory loss had become her base template, the fruit’s logic might simply pass over it.

The laws of the block world were absolute, but they were also strictly literal.

Yet even if the item encountered a conceptual limit, Ryen maintained an ultimate recourse. He could step beyond the threshold of this world and utilize the raw authority of the Imaginary Tree to alter the reality of her history. Though he had rarely experimented with such fine-tuned temporal manipulations, another option remained.

Istaroth understood those currents perfectly.

If necessary, he could use his sovereign authority to force a connection into the God of Moments’ temporal loops and demand her assistance. It was an option she would scarcely refuse.

The sheer scale of the medical intervention was staggering. A World Creator, two reigning sovereigns, multiple ancient gods, and a legion of adepti, with the potential addition of the First Throne’s shade. Even the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles had never commanded such an assembly for her own preservation.

Qiqi ate slowly, her small jaw moving with rigid precision. It took nearly a full minute for the last of the glowing fruit to vanish.

Ryen immediately took her hand, his thumb resting against the small pulse point. ”How does it feel, Qiqi? Is there a change within the core?”

”The core...” Qiqi stared blankly into his face, her pupils dilated as she remained motionless for several long seconds. ”I do not... know.”

Ryen offered a small, reassuring smile. ”Can you attempt the physical exercises? The ones you perform every morning to keep your limbs from freezing into place?”

The request triggered an immediate response.

She stepped away from Ryen, entirely indifferent to the rows of ancient beings watching her every move. Her small face set into a serious, intense expression as she raised her arms, her movements beginning to flow through the familiar sequence.

”One, two... Qiqi...”

”Two, two, seven...”

The faces of the watching adepti brightened. Though the cadence of her counting remained characteristically eccentric, it was her familiar rhythm. Their attention was focused entirely on her speech pattern. Normally, by the third sequence, her mind would have cleared the original instruction, leaving her standing frozen in the center of the room.

Yet the movements continued without a single hitch.

Ryen reached out, gently catching her forearm mid-stride. The muscle felt firm, but the underlying resistance was entirely different. The old, skeletal rigidity was gone, replaced by the natural elasticity of a living child. The straightness of her limbs was no longer a structural limitation, but merely a deeply ingrained habit.

”Try from the beginning,” Ryen murmured softly.

Qiqi paused, her small head tilting as she nodded. She reset her posture and began anew.

”One, two... Qiqi...”

She stopped mid-motion, her eyes widening as she looked down at her own joints. ”Ah. Qiqi’s arm... it moves when I tell it to.”

A soft light seemed to enter her pale eyes as she watched her wrist rotate smoothly under her own command. A long-forgotten sensation of internal warmth spread through her chest.

She turned her head, her gaze landing squarely on the young girl standing nearby. ”YaoYao. Qiqi’s body... is very soft now.”

YaoYao froze for a fraction of a second before leaping forward, throwing her arms around the small girl. ”Qiqi! What did you just call me?”

”YaoYao?”

”Qiqi, do you know who I am? Do you really know?”

Hearing her name repeated without the usual long, vacant pause brought a sudden sheen of tears to YaoYao’s eyes.

Qiqi’s voice remained soft, but the words flowed with a continuous, unbroken rhythm. ”YaoYao is Qiqi’s most precious friend. The friend for the rest of my life.”

The small herb gatherer seemed to realize the change herself. She turned her head slowly, her eyes traveling across every face present in the room. Under the intense, breathless gaze of the assembled gods, she began to speak, her voice clear.

”Mr. Baizhu. Changsheng. Sister Ningguang. Sister Yelan. Sister Keqing. Sister Ganyu.”

”Rex Lapis. Skybracer. Cloud Retainer. Mountain Shaper.”

None of the ancient adepti had ever imagined that the simple sound of their titles returning from the lips of this child could evoke such a profound sense of relief.

Qiqi’s eyes grew brighter with every name she uttered. Ryen remained kneeling before her, waiting patiently. ”Qiqi. Who am I?”

The small girl stepped closer, her face nearly touching his as she took a small, deliberate breath, catching the scent of his coat.

”Brother Ryen,” she whispered, a small, genuine smile finally breaking across her face. ”Qiqi has memorized your scent. It is very warm.”

”She remembered! Qiqi is completely well!” YaoYao spun around, lifting Qiqi by her hands and jumping up and down in the center of the villa. ”This is wonderful! From now on, you won’t need to look at that old notebook to remember who I am!”

She turned toward Ryen, her face flushed with excitement. ”Thank you, Brother Ryen! Qiqi is finally whole! I am going to take her to see every valley in Liyue, and we will collect so many new memories that the pages won’t ever be able to hold them all!”

Watching the two children tangled together in a bright embrace, the collective tension in the room dissolved into a series of soft, satisfied smiles.

”It appears our baseline estimation of the Enchanted Golden Apple was still too conservative,” Ryen remarked, his tone shifting back to his usual easygoing manner. ”The universal logic of that world never fails to deliver.”

Zhongli expressed his agreement with a slow, dignified inclination of his head. ”Based on the universal principles observed thus far, the restorative logic of the golden fruit is indeed extraordinary. In the specific domain of targeted healing, its conceptual authority far exceeds that of a simple resurrection totem.”

The old archon’s gaze rested gently on the laughing children. ”Regardless of the mechanics, Qiqi’s restoration is a momentous occasion. The ancient debts Liyue owed to this child during the times of desolation can finally begin to be repaid.”

Changsheng slid smoothly from Baizhu’s collar, her white scales glistening as she transferred her length onto Qiqi’s shoulder. She blinked her crimson eyes.

”The skin is still somewhat cool to the touch, but the internal circulation is far more comfortable,” the serpent observed, her tongue darting out. ”More importantly, the next time I rest upon your shoulders, you won’t forget my existence and leap into the air from fright.”

Baizhu stood at the edge of the circle, his expression entirely clear of his former melancholy. Though his medical practice had originally led him to Qiqi with hidden motives regarding her immortality, the years of shared daily life had long since transformed her into a child of his own house.

To witness his own affliction erased, his long-sought immortality granted through an unexpected covenant, and the child under his care restored to life all within a single morning made this day the undeniable peak of his existence.

”Wait! This is entirely incorrect!”

A sudden, sharp voice broke the warmth of the room as Hu Tao bounded forward, her pigtails swinging wildly as she waved her hands in mock indignation. ”Why did Qiqi list every single person in this villa but completely skip my name? Qiqi, look closely at this face! Do you know who the Director of the Wangshu Funeral Parlor is?”

Hu Tao dropped into a low crouch directly in front of the small girl, her dark eyes wide with intense expectation.

The moment the director’s face filled her vision, the small, budding smile on Qiqi’s face vanished instantly.

She turned on her heel, burying her face completely behind Ryen’s long coat. ”High temperatures... burial... stay away...”

”...”