Genshin x Minecraft: Building the Temple of Virtue

”While I live, let me enjoy my cup of wine...”

Zhongli’s lips curved upward. He nodded slowly. ”Indeed. How could a man capable of penning such verses care for such trivial things? His title of Poet Immortal is one only he has the right to claim. No one else is qualified to judge him... Encountering Li Bai ruins one for life. I finally understand the agony of the poets in your world.”

Zhongli shook his head, a heavy exhale escaping his lips. ”With such pearls and jade before me, how could I dare display my own meager skills? Does the Poet Immortal have other verses?”

Ryen noted the intense focus in Zhongli’s amber eyes. It was exactly as he expected. The fireworks were still a while away, and the lingering effects of the alcohol needed time to dissipate. More importantly, Ningguang and his wives were leaning in, their eyes bright with curiosity about Li Bai’s work.

Ryen tapped his fingers gently against the table, his voice dropping into a rhythmic cadence.

”On the moon: As a child, I knew not the moon, calling it a white jade plate. Then I thought it a mirror of the Jasper Terrace, flying at the edge of the blue clouds.”

”On a friend: The willow catkins have fallen, the cuckoo cries. I hear you have crossed the Five Streams to Longbiao. I entrust my sorrowful heart to the bright moon, to follow the wind with you until the west of Yelang.”

Ryen picked up his cup, swirling the wine. ”There are so many more. A pot of wine among the flowers, I drink alone with no kindred soul. Raising my cup, I invite the bright moon, and facing my shadow, we become three. The moon does not know how to drink, and my shadow merely follows my body. For a time, I accompany the moon and my shadow, seizing joy while spring remains.”

”I sing, and the moon lingers. I dance, and my shadow scatters. Awake, we share our joy. Drunk, we part ways. Bound forever in a journey devoid of mortal ties, we pledge to meet again in the distant Milky Way.”

As Ryen’s voice carried the verses, the courtyard fell utterly silent. The listeners’ eyes glazed over slightly. They felt transported across time and space, witnessing a solitary, fiercely arrogant figure drinking beneath the moonlight. Clad in brilliant white, his dark hair whipping wildly in the wind. He danced with his shadow beneath the moon, lacking all martial discipline, yet possessing an ethereal, ghostly grace.

They finally understood why Ryen called him the man closest to a god. Free-spirited, unrestrained, wild. He fundamentally looked down upon the trivial entanglements of the mortal world.

Zhongli closed his eyes, his breathing slow and deep as he let the verses wash over his mind. To him, this was an unparalleled intellectual feast. The poetry he had composed over millennia felt utterly insignificant compared to Li Bai’s casual musings.

Encountering Li Bai truly ruined one for life.

Li Bai was an insurmountable mountain pressing down on the chests of all scholars. Only someone deeply versed in literature like Zhongli could comprehend the crushing suffocation of facing such god-like talent. With the birth of one of his poems, countless scholars lost the courage to ever pick up a brush again. It was staggering to imagine the psychological fortitude of the poets who managed to become the Eight Great Masters while living under Li Bai’s shadow.

”There is another poem by Li Bai. I believe it is the most fitting gift for Liyue.” Ryen paused, turning his gaze toward Ningguang, whose eyes shimmered with unspoken affection.

”Bring brush and ink!” Zhongli announced, his voice vibrating with sudden vigor. He stood up abruptly. ”I deeply regret never sharing wine with Mr. Li Bai, but to record his words by my own hand is a supreme honor!”

Baiwen and the other secretaries hurried over with writing supplies. They had been secretly documenting Ryen’s recitations since Qiang Jin Jiu. Any citizen of Liyue could recognize the sheer brilliance of these verses.

Once Zhongli readied his brush, Ryen stood, raising his cup. Ningguang and the others followed suit. Even Diluc and the heavily intoxicated guests forcibly shook off their stupor, pushing themselves to their feet to look at Ryen.

Stepping forward, Ryen almost saw the phantom of Li Bai superimposing itself over his vision. Bridging the gap of time and space, he murmured the words.

”Clear wine in golden goblets, ten thousand coins a measure. Exquisite delicacies on jade plates, worth ten thousand more.”

”I stop my cup, throw down my chopsticks, unable to eat. I draw my sword and look around, my heart vast and lost.”

”I wish to cross the Yellow River, but ice chokes the stream. I would climb the Taihang Mountains, but snow blankets the peaks.”

”In idleness I fish by the emerald stream, then suddenly dream of sailing toward the sun.”

Zhongli’s brush flew across the parchment, his brows knitting tightly together. The poem was suffocatingly fraught with obstacles. With mere words, the terrifying peril of the path ahead was laid bare.

Zhongli’s thoughts drifted to Liyue. The harbor was prosperous, its military and culture unmatched, its people at peace. But was this the end? The awakening of the Heavenly Principles would inevitably bring blood and tears. Could Liyue truly suppress Celestia? Then there was the fated cycle of the First Throne. Even if they won, what would be left of Liyue, or the Five Nations?

This single verse dragged everyone’s deepest anxieties to the surface. Such was the terrifying power of poetry.

Ryen let out a long breath. His voice lowered.

”Hard is the road. Hard is the road.”

”So many branching paths. Where am I now?”

The listeners lowered their heads. A heavy blanket of despondency settled over the courtyard. Zhongli’s hand trembled slightly, ink pooling at the tip of his brush.

Suddenly, a sharp light ignited in Ryen’s eyes. He threw his head back, staring directly at the brilliant moon. Across thousands of years, only the moon remained this luminous. In that moment, the phantom of Li Bai fully merged with Ryen. Everyone saw that solitary, proud figure raising his cup to the heavens. He let out a booming laugh, drained his wine in one gulp, and pointed his blade at the sky.

”A time will come to ride the wind and cleave the waves! I will set my cloud-white sail and cross the vast, boundless sea!”

A physical shockwave of emotion rippled through the onlookers. Several stumbled back half a step. Zhongli’s eyes widened, his irises fully visible. His brush moved with frantic, powerful strokes.

”A time will come to ride the wind and cleave the waves... cross the vast sea!” Zhongli’s voice tore from his throat. ”Brilliant! A time will come to ride the wind and cleave the waves!”

”Even if the road ahead is treacherous and the night is endlessly long, Liyue’s voyage will eventually shatter the waves! The vast sea and the bright moon are entirely within our grasp!”

”What a Poet Immortal! What a genius of the ages! I am infinitely inferior to him!”

Zhongli stared at the freshly inked parchment, his chest heaving. The calligraphy flowed like running water, carrying the immense weight of the poem’s intent. This was not merely his skill; it was the soul of the verse guiding his hand. If a mere mortal could possess such unyielding resolve, how could he, Rex Lapis, fear Liyue’s future tribulations? No matter how fierce the winds and waves, Liyue would endure for thousands of years! It was true during the Archon War, and it would be true in the future!

In a brief trance, Zhongli saw the man in white robes carrying a green sword. The figure cast a glance back at Zhongli. The wild, untamed arrogance in his eyes sent a tremor through Zhongli’s core. With a ringing laugh, the figure strode directly into the storm. He reveled in the hardship, knowing he was the most unyielding existence in the world.

Zhongli stood completely still for a long time. Finally, he bent forward in a deep, formal bow. ”I have received your teachings.”

Golden Geo energy flared around him. It seeped into the parchment, transforming the fragile paper into indestructible golden bedrock. The ink flowed with divine power, turning into an eternal mural. It would not weather or fade for millions of years. He had infused the poem with his divine will, crafting it much like he forged his ancient artifacts.

”Tianquan,” Zhongli’s voice was gravelly and firm. ”I entrust you to embed this poem into the bedrock of Liyue’s main gate. In the future, every citizen of Liyue must look upon these words as their creed.”

”Ride the wind and cleave the waves, set the cloud-white sail! Liyue must possess a soul of iron. Even if the sky collapses and the earth shatters, the people of Liyue must never bend their backs in submission.”

Ningguang gave a sharp, resolute nod. She would have done so even without his command. For Liyue to become an eternal civilization, this poem was a vital cornerstone. An unbreakable will could never be shattered. This verse would forge an unyielding soul for all of Liyue’s people.

”What a man this Li Bai is,” Zhongli murmured, his fingers trailing over the golden characters. ”Were he to appear in Teyvat, I would undoubtedly carry a disciple’s tribute to his door and beg for his instruction.” Perhaps, in centuries to come, this poem would truly become a holy artifact.

”My friend. Thank you. Aside from the resurrection of my comrades, this poem is the greatest gift I have ever received.” Zhongli looked at Ryen. ”Your former world lacked gods, but it birthed beings whose very nature could rival, or even suppress, the divine. The Poet Immortal. I am lesser than him, both in literary mastery and the sheer resilience of his soul. I am far lesser.”

Ryen’s lips twitched. Seeing Zhongli completely transformed into a fanatic follower of Li Bai reminded him instantly of Du Fu. He couldn’t resist a chuckle.

”If you had lived in that era, you and the Poet Sage, Du Fu, would have had endless conversation topics. The Poet Sage saw Li Bai’s poetry, met him once, and spent the absolute entirety of the rest of his life obsessing over him. Du Fu was Li Bai’s number one fanatic.”

Zhongli chuckled. ”I see no shame in submitting to Li Bai’s brilliance. But... Poet Sage?”

Ryen nodded.

”I must ascend to the absolute peak, and see all other mountains as small.”

”The dew turns white tonight, the moon is brightest in my homeland.”

”Boundless falling leaves rustle down, the endless Yangtze River rolls on.”

”Beacon fires burn for three consecutive months, a letter from home is worth ten thousand gold.”

”How can I obtain tens of thousands of grand mansions, to shelter all the impoverished scholars of the world and bring joy to their faces, steadfast as a mountain against wind and rain?”

”Du Fu is the Poet Sage, an absolute equal to the Poet Immortal Li Bai,” Ryen explained. ”Unlike the wild and unbothered Li Bai, Du Fu was a realist who grieved deeply for his nation and its people. Together, they are known as Li and Du, their names immortalized through eternity.”

Zhongli nodded slowly, a profound understanding in his eyes. ”I can feel it. Li Bai’s verses are unbridled and fiercely arrogant like the clouds. Du Fu’s lines bleed with raw anxiety for his country and agonizing pity for its citizens. The pairing of Li and Du is well-deserved. Reaching such a realm is impossible for ordinary men.”

Ryen gave Zhongli a deeply amused look. ”The most important detail is that Du Fu was a genuine, hardcore fanatic of Li Bai. The poetry he wrote throughout his life fell into two categories: worrying about the nation, and missing or praising Li Bai.”

”He wrote A Gift to Li Bai, Thinking of Li Bai at the End of the Sky, Dreaming of Li Bai I, Dreaming of Li Bai II, Remembering Li Bai on a Spring Day, Thinking of Li Bai on a Winter Day, No News of Li Bai Recently...”

”It’s fair to say Du Fu thought of Li Bai in spring, thought of him in winter, thought of him during the day, and dreamed of him at night. Besides worrying about the country, his only other thought was: Where did Li Bai go? How is Li Bai doing? Is Li Bai taking care of himself? After meeting Li Bai just once and traveling with him briefly, Du Fu became a devout, fanatical believer.”

”This Poet Sage, an equal in literary status, just wanted to follow Li Bai around every day. Future generations joked that if circumstances allowed, Du Fu would have gladly lived with him, slept in the same room, and even been buried alongside him. If Li Bai went out, Du Fu would lead his horse. If Li Bai came home, Du Fu would cook. If Li Bai wrote poetry, Du Fu would grind the ink. If Li Bai slept, Du Fu would fan away the mosquitoes. Li Bai was Du Fu’s absolute obsession.”

”Unfortunately, Li Bai himself was largely oblivious to this level of devotion. And even if he knew, he would probably just laugh it off. He was a man arrogant enough to look down on the heavens.”

The group exchanged incredulous looks. Their jaws went slack. It was staggeringly difficult to reconcile the image of such an intense, desperate fanatic with the legendary Poet Sage who penned verses weeping for the world.

”Speaking purely from a logical standpoint, while their relationship seems heavily one-sided on Du Fu’s part, it remains a beautiful piece of history,” Zhongli remarked, shaking his head with a wistful smile. ”Li Bai is certainly worthy of such devotion. His brilliance crushed the entire world. Only a supreme talent like Du Fu could truly resonate with him.”

”Resonate?” Ryen let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. ”You are completely mistaken.”

”In Li Bai’s mind, every single person in the world was ordinary. Only he was a true scholar. Li Bai treated everyone equally... by looking down on them all.”

”For anyone else, it would be arrogant vanity. But for Li Bai, it was simply reality. This Poet Immortal truly seemed like the chosen child of heaven. His brilliance was genuinely unmatched.”

”Later generations adapted a line to perfectly describe his exact nature.”

Seeing the entire assembly hang on his every word, Ryen’s voice dropped, carrying absolute authority.

”Holding the sun and moon, plucking the stars from the sky. In all the world, there is no one else like me.”