I, the Geo Archon Morax with 2.1 Billion Mora, Have Joined a Chat Group [304]

Leaving the system AI’s chat interface, Zhongli paused thoughtfully but didn’t immediately reopen the chat group interface.

Though he already had a complete plan in mind—to prove to the main AI of the [Multiverse Chat Group] that mortal civilizations were indeed capable of ascending to higher forms—there was no need to rush.

He rose and left the courtyard, heading toward Wanmin Restaurant. His true body had not yet entered slumber, and his avatar in Teyvat could still savor the same cuisine. It seemed a perfect time to enjoy another meal prepared by Xiangling’s hand.

As he stepped outside, Liyue Harbor basked in the cusp of spring and summer.

Flowers bloomed, fragrance drifting gently through the air.

Walking along the streets, Zhongli found the once-familiar harbor strangely unfamiliar.

Letting the Geo Archon die and disappear, allowing Liyue’s people to grow stronger on their own—that had always been his hope.

Yet now, witnessing so many ordinary citizens still struggling to survive, a ripple of unrest stirred within him.

Dock workers still labored without enough food. Rural villages still faced destruction. Merchant guilds in Liyue Harbor continued their manipulation—exploitation, false contracts, double-dealing behind the scenes.

The Tianquan, Ningguang, held dominion over the law, but she focused solely on fair commerce, seldom considering the fairness of daily life.

The Yuheng, Keqing, though leading by example, lacked empathy for ordinary folk who simply wanted rest after long hours of work.

Half-adeptus Ganyu, with her unique constitution, believed that constant overtime was the ideal—but failed to grasp that mortals could not live as she did.

They were all protagonists of Liyue’s new era, striving as model leaders.

But none of them considered how foreign their ideals were to the average citizen—to the ones who inherited none of Liyue’s legacy, who bore no noble lineage or celestial burden.

Ordinary people only wished to support their families, to live peacefully, to earn a little more, work a little less, spend more time with loved ones, and have a bit more leisure.

If…

If it were a hundred years before his “death,” when he still had the strength to govern Liyue, he might have reminded the Qixing of the sword of Morax hanging above their heads, the founding spirit of Liyue—a kingdom born not for power, but for the people’s better lives.

But now, he was already “dead.”

The Morax who had “died” should no longer appear.

Even though the world had not grown better in his absence—and perhaps had subtly begun to worsen—

Was it right for me to have let go of everything like this?

The doubt rose, lingered briefly, then dissipated without a trace.

Though he had seen many mortals rise with strength and brilliance, seen mortal civilizations evolve and thrive, Liyue remained special in his heart.

So he hoped—still hoped—that the people of this land would find the right path without his guidance.

While these thoughts turned in his mind, he had already arrived at the entrance to Wanmin Restaurant.

Seeing the bustling crowd and busy interior, Zhongli shook his head gently and entered with a faint smile on his lips.

He found a single open four-person table and sat down. Across from him, a young woman eating noodles lifted her head.

“Excuse me, may I sit here?”

“Of course—” she began, but stopped mid-sentence. Her twin-tied purple hair bounced slightly as her eyes widened in shock.

“Lord Mor—!”

Before she could finish, Zhongli raised his hand lightly.

A subtle force, completely beyond her perception, sealed her lips and gently—but firmly—pressed her back into her seat.

“Miss Yuheng, please be quiet while eating.”

Unhurriedly, Zhongli waved over Xiangling, who was bustling about the dining floor.

The vibrant young chef, her hair in a variant bun, skipped cheerfully over. Upon seeing him, her face lit up.

“Ah~! Mr. Zhongli! It’s been so long!”

“I’ve prepared so many—” she spun her pale arm in a wide circle for emphasis, “—so many new dishes! But a lot of people don’t like trying them, so I thought—if anyone could give me real feedback, it’d be you, Mr. Zhongli.”

“I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

Zhongli nodded with his usual composed elegance. “No rush. I’ll be around for the next few days. Let me try all your new creations—it’s one of the pleasures of living, after all.”

“Alrighty~!” Xiangling winked, flashed a peace sign, and darted back to the kitchen—clearly she’d been holding back quite a few experiments, waiting for him to be her taste tester.

Zhongli’s gaze returned to Keqing, who had sat frozen, unable to speak since earlier.

He spoke gently, with warmth:

“Miss Yuheng, there’s no need for alarm. Word of my presence in Liyue Harbor must have spread. The other adepti are surely aware as well.”

“I’m merely here for a meal at Wanmin Restaurant—just as you enjoy eating your noodles here.”

Keqing gave a small, stiff nod.

With a light tap of his finger on the table, the invisible restraint disappeared without a trace.

“…Welcome, Lord Zhongli.”

After a long silence, Keqing carefully chose her words.

Zhongli sipped his tea and nodded in reply.

“Why… did you leave?”

There was no hostility in her voice—only curiosity. She seemed different now, as though her time without him had tempered her sharp edges into something more thoughtful.

“Because, as you once said—”

Zhongli looked at her with calm eyes.

“You take pride in being a citizen of Liyue.”

“Though born into nobility, your thoughts and actions were never for personal gain. Of that, I can attest with full conscience.”

“Your harsh standards stemmed not from arrogance, but from disdain for complacency. You couldn’t bear to see your fellow Liyueans waiting passively for the Archon’s favor.”

“You questioned the Geo Archon out of principle—to urge the people to be vigilant, to teach them that self-reliance is the true path.”

“Everything you’ve done has been for the good of Liyue. There is not a blemish on your heart.”

Keqing’s expression shifted. Her lips pressed into a reluctant pout.

“Even if I said that before…”

“No need for qualifiers.” Zhongli interrupted gently, his golden eyes meeting her violet gaze like sunlit crystal.

“It was the right thing to say.”

“And I’ve been reflecting on it.”

His voice, steady and resolute, left her momentarily stunned.

A faint blush colored her cheeks. Then, as if reminded of something, her expression shifted to one of solemn resolve.

“Lord Zhongli… Even now, I do not regret what I said that day in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”

Zhongli inclined his head. “I remember well—the Yuheng who walks at the forefront of her era.”

“But let me remind you—never forget your current conviction. I’ve witnessed countless mortals. And by the nature of reason, every mortal reaches a moment when they stray from their ideals.”

“For mortals, time is both their greatest friend… and their worst enemy.”

“Keqing—just like the three questions I asked you that day—today, I have one more.”

She sat straighter and gave a solemn nod. “Please, go ahead.”

Zhongli’s voice was quiet, but his words cut deep:

“In this Liyue Harbor where the Archon has departed—what are you doing?”

Keqing froze.

Before she could speak, Zhongli continued:

“Have you truly fulfilled the promise you made that day? That ‘someone must walk at the forefront of the age, and open a new path with their own hands… The Yuheng must not shy from that duty’?”

He closed his eyes and said no more.

Keqing’s delicate face twisted in a troubled frown.

Thoughts swirled in her mind—frustration at her own shortcomings, concern over Liyue’s overheated housing market (her domain as overseer of land and construction), and anger at powerful merchant guilds manipulating the system.

After watching her wrestle with her thoughts, Zhongli finally spoke again:

“In truth, when the Archon still ruled, you did quite well. You kept Liyue Harbor’s real estate—gathered from the essence of the people—at reasonable prices. You enacted policies to help the common folk secure shelter.”

“But back then, my silent approval shielded you. The other Qixing didn’t challenge you. The merchant guilds under their control obeyed your policies.”

“But now that I’ve stepped away, the Qixing govern as equals. When your policies threaten merchant interests, they appeal to fellow Qixing. They ask you to ‘give face’ or trade favors for leniency.”

“That happens often now, doesn’t it?”

Keqing said nothing.

“You stand firm in your beliefs—but the others are displeased. You’re equals now. And there are times when you need their help.”

“So yes—you’re caught in conflict. Am I wrong?”

His words so accurately mirrored her current predicament, she couldn’t help but nod slightly.

Zhongli, still serene, went on:

“Let me ask more directly.”

“Miss Yuheng, which is more important: the profits of the merchant guilds, or the well-being of the common people?”

Keqing tossed her twin-tails defiantly. Her response was immediate:

“Of course the people’s well-being matters more. But—do their interests truly conflict with those of the guilds?”

Zhongli didn’t answer. He asked again:

“Then, Miss Yuheng—do you believe Liyue belongs to the merchants, or to all of Liyue’s citizens?”

Keqing blinked—then nodded firmly.

“To all citizens, naturally. Merchants are citizens too, aren’t they? Why should they be at odds?”

Zhongli remained silent. Then asked one final question:

“Is the Rock Pavilion Teahouse still open?”

She blinked, then hesitated.

“…Yes. It is.”

“Then that’s enough,” Zhongli said, seeing Xiangling return from the kitchen. “My meal’s arrived. Your noodles must be cold—would you like to share?”

The abrupt shift in tone caught Keqing off guard. But she merely looked at his golden eyes and nodded softly. “Mm.”

No one knows how much time passed before Yuheng Keqing returned home in a daze.

Her residence, a grand manor in a sprawling garden, was among the most luxurious in Liyue.

As the daughter of Liyue’s largest real estate tycoon—and a descendant of the old nobility—she had been born into such opulence.

But she’d long known: not everyone could live like this. Many in Liyue couldn’t even afford basic shelter.

That was why she had become the Yuheng—to make sure everyone could one day live like her.

Now she sat by the artificial stream in her garden, pondering Zhongli’s questions.

The more she thought, the more detail she noticed—the more troubled she became.

Finally, even the view beside her took on a different hue.

…Where did the money for this rock garden come from?
What does it mean to be the largest real estate developer…?

After finishing his last bite of the “Crystal Lizard Core & Slime Crunch Combo”, Zhongli nodded to Childe, who had just arrived for his meal, and asked him to cover the bill.

Then, he left Wanmin Restaurant.

Today’s encounter with Keqing had been nothing but a small, unexpected moment.

For Zhongli, the primary task now was to gain the Multiverse Chat Group’s computational support and chart the path of his future evolution.

Matters in Liyue no longer commanded his full attention.

Still—since they’d crossed paths, and she showed promise—offering a few words of guidance cost him nothing.

And if it might spark something in her—

Why not?

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This is a fan translation of 我，21亿岩王帝君加入聊天群 by 大一统. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!