Genshin Impact's Incense Burner Of Liyue [514]

This wasn’t like Watatsumi Island, where the land had been so deeply altered by divine power that its soil was barely fertile.

No, Inazuma’s food shortages weren’t due to poor soil—they were the direct result of blatant neglect.

Seriously, was this what “eternity” had come to?

The reason farming couldn’t continue was because of bandits and Treasure Hoarders running rampant?

So what, the entire Tenryou Commission doesn’t exist now?

If this initiative actually got off the ground, watch how quickly half those outlaws would start begging to reintegrate into society just to escape their current miserable existence.

No one actually wanted to live like that—not unless they had no other choice.

If Inazuma had just one or two more agricultural hubs outside of Konda Village, life would improve drastically. People would regain a sense of stability, and even a spark of hope for the future.

Old Inazuma had always exuded a stubborn resilience—like a fallen noble dusting themselves off before heading out in public.

But if things started to change?

Maybe one day, Inazumans wouldn’t have to wipe their mouths with pigskin before stepping out the door.

Maybe, if life improved just a little, they’d toss that pigskin straight into the pot for a meal—or even dismiss it as not worth eating.

"High-yield, resistant crop seeds?"

Albedo pondered for a moment. "That shouldn’t be a problem. Based on the climate data and Lord Itto’s descriptions, I should be able to engineer some superior strains."

"But a single type of seed seems a bit lacking. Might as well prepare a full variety—enough to fill an entire crate."

As wealthy benefactor Albedo fine-tuned the proportions of his agricultural gift set, Gu Sanqiu had already distanced himself from the crafting table.

He picked a fishing spot as far away as possible from Klee and Itto before casting his line.

Because, honestly, even without looking, he knew what was happening over there.

A chorus of "Bounce, bounce!" and "Smash it!" was undoubtedly ringing through the air.

At this point, their "fishing trip" had probably evolved from blowing up fish to blowing up water itself—basically, the hardcore version of splashing around.

Trying to practice peaceful fishing anywhere near them would be the real stupidity.

Because that wouldn’t be fishing.

That would be a prison sentence.

"Hope you like my little present, fox."

Gu Sanqiu’s lips curled into a wicked grin.

This seed-gifting scheme hadn’t been some random whim—it was a carefully laid trap.

Back in Liyue, he had already commissioned research on this very subject.

Why?

Because the "predetermined future" was filled with far too much suffering—and he had no intention of sitting around and watching.

The Khaenri’ah remnants’ rebellion wasn’t just a possibility—it was practically a guarantee.

And resources would be key.

Crops took time to mature.

Strategic stockpiling had to start early—not when disaster had already struck.

There were no "pay six primogems to double farm output" mechanics in real life.

If there were, forget six primos—he’d drop six hundred million Mora without hesitation.

Well, technically, that should be Ningguang’s job. Official funding and all that.

Not asking for much—just double Liyue’s agricultural output this year.

Totally reasonable.

Greedy as hell, but reasonable.

Evaluating his own level of shamelessness, Gu Sanqiu calmly resumed fishing.

When Itto returned to Inazuma with a giant crate of seeds, the Kanjou and Tenryou Commissions would absolutely inspect it.

But that wasn’t an issue.

Before Itto left Liyue, Gu Sanqiu would make sure he understood the situation.

Even if Lady Yae herself wasn’t around, Itto could still pull rank and claim that the Guuji and the entire Grand Narukami Shrine had personally commissioned these seeds.

Unauthorized personnel?

Kindly step aside.

The Three Commissions maintained a delicate balance of power. None of them would recklessly interfere in another’s affairs.

At most, they’d assign someone to accompany him—just to verify things.

But by the time they reached the Shrine, the head of the Shabukyo would already be informed.

Hell, she’d probably even consult the pink-haired fox before they got there.

Meaning the crate of seeds would land safely, no questions asked.

And what would Lady Yae do with high-quality crop seeds?

More importantly, what narrative would she spin around this "external aid"?

If she didn’t leverage this politically, it would be a waste of her own intelligence.

Once this initiative gained momentum, the Grand Narukami Shrine and the Shabukyo would see their reputation skyrocket.

And that played directly into Lady Yae’s long-term goals.

What about the Raiden Shogun?

If she caught wind of such a hopeful new development, what would she think?

She had already confiscated Lady Yae’s Vision—a calculated move to reinforce her decree’s legitimacy.

With the Vision Hunt Ceremony in full swing, even the Hundred-Eyed Kannon was under construction.

This proved that Ei had gradually broken free from the influence of Nar’ethotep.

Speaking of which—credit where credit was due.

For a lingering will, that guy had managed to warp the Shogun’s thinking for an impressively long time.

Regardless of how Ei ultimately freed herself, one thing was certain:

Her conviction in eternity had only deepened.

Traditional counseling wouldn’t work on her anymore.

So, as a self-proclaimed quack doctor, Gu Sanqiu figured…

Time for a stronger prescription.

The real question was:

Would she interfere with this agricultural expansion?

Or would she let it be?

Either choice would challenge her current understanding of eternity.

The logical response would be to observe and intervene only if necessary.

But seriously—Albedo-engineered seeds causing issues?

That would be sorcery.

Eventually, after witnessing the positive impact, the Shogun herself would likely approve this initiative.

It would become part of eternity.

And in doing so, certain suppressed emotions might start resurfacing.

A flawless open-handed maneuver.

Completely aboveboard.

Almost unreasonably so.

If Lady Yae played it right, she could even frame this as a gift from Mondstadt—using it as an excuse to rekindle trade with foreign merchants.

It wouldn’t be enough to break the Sakoku Decree outright.

But she might be able to ease restrictions slightly—maybe improve basic trade conditions.

That said, the foreign trade associations held little political sway.

At best, they’d just receive fairer treatment—not dismantle the decree.

One more thing.

Gu Sanqiu had a hunch that Yae Miko was still secretly pissed at Ei.

Not for losing her Vision—but for being used in the first place.

Wouldn’t be surprising if she took this opportunity to mess with Ei a little.

"What? I willingly gave you my Vision? I don’t remember that. I refuse to acknowledge it. I don’t hear you~!

It’s your fault! You don’t love me anymore!"

Never underestimate a high-ranking kitsune’s ability to be petty.

Gu Sanqiu reeled in a plump sea bass, grinning.

Why had he gotten so involved in all this?

Simple.

Going head-to-head with a god from across the chessboard was just way too fun.

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This is a fan translation of 原神之璃月奉香人 by 淡白蛋清. 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!