Genshin Impact: Liyue's Strongest Thousand Rock Army

"Twenty-one thousand, this is more than just a payback, it's more profitable than before when I took advantage of the time and space, Tianshu Star..."

Su Ping murmured in his heart. Although the money in his arms was not too much, considering the current situation, any income should not be underestimated.

At least, with the previous Mora, they can survive another month. As long as this period of time passes and the funds are circulated, things will be much easier.

But all this is a story for the future.

At this time, Su Ping was sitting at the table in his home, writing about his sixth volume with black ink, expressing his burning heart and completing his own text.

"My uncle's death came as a surprise to me, and the competition among others chilled my heart. I had no intention of competing with them, so I chose a path that seemed like an escape: running away."

"I never thought of becoming a pure and untainted green lotus, nor did I want to be a filthy person who would go along with them. I don't care if I'm a coward."

"I want to help the people I want to help. He or should I say them, there is definitely more than one person. This is something that no one can change. Even if the world changes drastically, I will not change and will firmly uphold my ideals..."

When he finished writing this, Su Ping paused for a moment. It was certainly possible to end it here, but he always felt that something was missing. He couldn't feel at ease until he wrote it down.

"What is missing?"

Su Ping frowned and kept tapping his fingers on the table. As time went by, the speed and frequency of the tapping became faster and faster. It was obvious that he was getting a little irritable.

Even he himself did not realize that he fell into a state common among writers, that is a period of self-doubt, and his attitude towards his work can be described as nitpicking.

But Su Ping had not yet reached that point where he would ponder over every word for half a day, constantly hammering out the ins and outs of his poem.

What is missing?

Su Ping didn't know that, apart from the initial discomfort, he was becoming more and more adept at writing his own stories. But later on, he used more ornate words, which seemed to be a bit out of touch with the original.

Is it for the sake of the original story that we abandon the gorgeous words, or for the sake of beautiful description, we give up the memories worth writing about?

He was stuck in this problem. The more he struggled with it, the harder it was to get out of it. This made Su Ping increasingly upset, and his feelings were almost evident in his words.

This emotion seemed to have infected Su Yue who was lying on the bed nearby. The man lying on the bed raised his eyes and looked at the thin figure in front of the table with a gentle gaze.

"Ping'er, if you can't write, just take a rest first."

"It's okay, I'll go to sleep after I finish writing." Su Ping replied casually.

It was already late at night and it was very quiet outside the house. There was almost no sound except the roar of the wind.

In this village, all the families turned off the lights and went to rest, except for Su Ping's family, who still had a candle lit. In that dim light, he was making his own stubborn supplements.

"It's late, go to bed, you've been writing lately, you must be very tired..."

As if he was aware of his son's condition, Su Yue's voice became softer, but his concern for his son did not diminish in the slightest.

When Su Ping heard these words, his thoughts on writing suddenly stopped. The flickering light of the fire shone on his face, and his expression could not be seen clearly.

After a brief pause, Su Ping blew out the candle and said softly, "Dad, I'll listen to you."

Su Yue didn't say anything, and there was silence between the two of them again.

Su Ping got up from the chair and sat on the bed. In the dim house, he couldn't see anything, but he seemed to see everything very clearly.

Sitting on the bed, Su Ping held his chin with one hand. Although he had promised just now, he still had no sleepiness and couldn't fall asleep at all.

In this struggle with myself, time passed slowly, from midnight to the early morning.

It was not until Su Ping heard the sound of even breathing that he realized how much time he had wasted.

A hint of enlightenment gradually appeared in his eyes. What was the point of thinking so much? Wasn't he just hindering himself?

To be frank, in fact, in his opinion, the fancy words may be false, but what happened is true, because the story is indeed true.

But compared to what Su Ping cared about and what he had been doing, these two things became illusory "fakes".

The truth and falsehood here do not refer to real and false, but to the importance and unimportance in Su Ping's heart, and the resulting "true" and "false".

"True or false..." Su Ping whispered, then closed his eyes and wandered in the artistic conception he had created, experiencing the dreamlike feeling between truth and falsehood.

Until the artistic conception collapsed, Su Ping came back from his perception. When he opened his eyes, the sky was also turning pale, just before dawn.

It is a very coincidental incident, and it is worthy of writers like Su Ping to write about it, just like the sun breaking through the darkness to welcome his return.

After opening his eyes, Su Ping's eyes were very clear, without a trace of confusion. He walked to the table and put a period after the last line of his manuscript.

This troubled him until midnight, and even involved true and false perceptions, causing Su Ping's fall into artistic conception to finally come to an end.

……

The day before the Moon-Chasing Festival, Su Ping went to a place in the village he rarely visited, Jiang Youyi's home.

Jiang Youyi's father was already waiting at the door. The old man had more than a dozen bamboo baskets placed behind him. They were woven by him, the craftsman.

Su Ping looked at the old man and smiled, "You don't have to wait here, right?"

Jiang Youyi's father said slowly with a gentle smile on his face: "Transactions cannot be sloppy, and hospitality for guests is also a rule that cannot be changed."

"How many molas are there in total for these twelve bamboo baskets?"

"I'll give you sixty for each, that's seven hundred and twenty Mora."

Su Ping took out his banknotes and exchanged the goods with the old man. Then he picked up the specially made bamboo baskets and prepared to go home.

"Do you need help to pick up a few for the child prodigy?" Jiang Youyi's father asked slowly, looking at Su Ping, whose steps were a little unsteady.

Su Ping shook his head and said with a smile: "No need, I can do it myself, please go into the house and have a rest."

The old man didn't try to persuade her any further and turned back to the house.

Su Ping carried these custom-made bamboo baskets towards his home. These custom-made bamboo baskets were not very similar to ordinary baskets, so they were certainly useful.

Tomorrow is the Moon Festival. Su Ping plans to weave the orange-red flowers into bamboo baskets to make flower baskets and sell them.

During major festivals, there are always people who come to buy this kind of thing. Although it doesn’t seem to have much practical use, most people will buy one as soon as they see it.

Therefore, Su Ping put the picked flowers into bamboo baskets in batches in front of his house, and then decorated the frame of the handle, and it was almost done.

There are about twenty to thirty flowers in each bamboo basket. The twelve bamboo baskets placed there give a festive feeling and make people smile.

After finishing all this, Su Ping did not go back to the house yet, because there were still many branches and fallen leaves on the ground that he needed to clean up.

It was afternoon and the sun was shining brightly, radiating its light and heat to the continent of Teyvat.

However, the bright sunlight did not last long, and was replaced by an extremely brilliant golden light, covering the sky and the surrounding area for thousands of miles. Above Liyue Harbor, there was a spinning turbine.

Su Ping raised his hand to slightly block the light. When he looked through his fingers, a five-clawed golden dragon suddenly appeared, its body stretching for thousands of feet, majestic and domineering.

All of this was obviously the annual Liyue Immortal Summoning Ceremony. Su Ping had no idea what oracle the Emperor would send down for the first time.

What he was doing now was just a small business. Once the dozen or so flower baskets were sold out, there was no need for him to go all the way to Yujing Terrace in Liyue Harbor to listen to it with his own ears.

After watching for a while, Su Ping continued to clean the area in front of the door. He was in awe of the Rock King, but it seemed that he didn't need to insist on doing it all the time. It would be too pedantic to watch the ceremony in front of his house.

One day and one night passed quickly, and time had just come to the Moon-Chu Festival, a festival for family reunion. Su Ping began to make money early.

Twelve flower baskets, several bags of peanuts and dates were loaded onto the cart and pushed by Uncle Zhang towards Liyue Harbor.

Uncle Zhang pushed a cart of dates and peanuts and went alone to find the merchant to buy the goods, while Su Ping brought twelve flower baskets and set them up on the roadside to sell them directly.

The hawking voices of children were not very common on the streets, but they were not too rare either, at least they would not attract other people.

But Su Ping was different. He composed a set of "auspicious" words that made every passerby take a second look at him.

Often, a transaction is completed simply because someone takes a closer look at the person in the crowd and then pays for the deal.

In a short period of time, Su Ping sold four flower baskets. He priced each flower basket at two thousand. If the customer bargained, he would sometimes reduce the price by a few hundred or so Mora.

But at this price, there is still some profit to be made.

By the time Uncle Zhang exchanged the goods for banknotes and found Su Ping with an empty cart, all the flower baskets had been sold out.

The uncle and nephew smiled at each other and set out on their way home.

On the way, Uncle Zhang gave the Mora that was used to sell dates to Su Ping, and told him to take good care of it and not lose it, and then he said nothing more.

Su Ping took a look at the banknotes and roughly saw that the price of a pound of dates was less than a hundred Mora. The price of peanuts was probably not much different.

There is no way around it. After all, Liyue is not only a major commercial country, but also has very developed agricultural planting. Therefore, such raw materials and ingredients will not be expensive.

If it happens one day, it will probably cause a famine.

However, the price of raw materials is not high, and they can be processed a little and then sold, which will be a huge reward. Su Ping has thought about this and may try it in the future.

It’s not easy to apply for a license, so given his current situation, he can only think about it for the time being.