Noelle cradled the Wat Melon, its quirks mirroring its fiery cousin.
A Plants vs. Zombies relic, it once pulped zombies in a single crush.
Teyvat's grass elements warped it, forging a mightier breed.
It drank verdant power, sprouting new tricks as it grew.
Mature, it could summon three grassy clones for a smashing spree.
Ye Ruo's chest-drawn flora bowed to him without fail.
Swap him out, though, and their loyalty frayed.
Wendy's close call proved it—too near, too tempting.
He'd even stretched a hand toward Big Mouth Flower's jaws.
The plant's logic was primal: this bard smelled like growth.
Eating him promised a wild evolutionary leap.
Could it chew through a god? Digest him? It didn't care.
Just a plant, it lunged on instinct alone.
Ye Ruo smirked—Wendy's divine hide was safe.
That flower was bold but outmatched.
Noelle and Wendy perked up as he spun his tale.
"Elemental plants with a twist—kinda like deception flowers," Noelle mused.
"Those scam blossoms slink through dirt, though," Wendy noted.
"These obey orders—way cooler than wild ones," he added.
"Where'd you snag them, Senior?" Noelle asked, eyes wide.
"Wind Knight, spill it—how'd you score these?" Wendy pressed.
Ye Ruo coughed, his face shifting to mock gravity.
"Keep this hush-hush," he said, voice low.
"I found them on Stormbearer Mountain—tame, so I grabbed 'em," he claimed.
Noelle gasped, awe lighting her face.
"Senior, you're incredible—finding rare plants like that!" she gushed.
Wendy stayed quiet, skepticism brewing behind his grin.
You're pulling our legs, right? he thought.
He'd tricked plenty, but now the tables turned.
Before he could call it, Ye Ruo clapped his shoulder.
A warm, appraising smile spread across his face.
"We meet again, bard—how's the tavern life treating you?" he asked.
"Saw you dodge with wind—got an Anemo Vision, huh?" he observed.
"Not bad—wasted on ballads, though," he teased.
"Ever thought of joining the Knights of Favonius?" he pitched.
"Mondstadt needs sharp lads like you," he urged.
"Vision bearers outlast regular folk—perfect for hard shifts," he grinned.
"Say, 996 or 007—easy for you," he tossed out.
Wendy's cheek twitched, disbelief cracking his calm.
Me, work for the Knights? Absurd! he inwardly balked.
A wind god, he thrived on poetry, not paperwork.
He'd lounged while Vanessa slaved over desks.
She'd booted him out—too much loafing.
Twarin hauled storms; he'd strummed atop its scales.
The dragon grumbled, but Wendy just sang.
A job? Pure torment—he'd rather fade.
Curiosity snagged on Ye Ruo's odd terms.
"What's this 996-007 nonsense?" he ventured.
Ye Ruo's eyes gleamed, mischief dancing there.
"Simple—996 is nine AM to nine PM, six days," he explained.
"007? Midnight to midnight, seven days straight," he continued.
Wendy blanched, shaking his head like a rattled kite.
"No, no, no—I'm a humble bard, not some titan," he stammered.
"Knights? Sorry, my soul's in song—my lifelong gig," he insisted.
Ye Ruo sighed, feigning disappointment.
"Fine, if you're that set, I'll drop it," he relented.
Wendy shivered—those hours sounded like death.
No Mondstadter could endure such a grind.
007? Beyond insane—who'd survive that?
Ye Ruo's laugh broke the tension, bright and easy.
"Kidding—Knights pull late nights, but not that bad," he admitted.
"Your face, bard? Gold," he chuckled.
Wendy glared, silently cursing the knight's humor.
Who taught him this—Lisa, maybe? he guessed.
Noelle piped up, a wistful note in her voice.
"So it's not real? Shame—couldn't snag him," she sighed.
Wendy gaped—someone wanted that madness?
Unfathomable—he'd salute her from afar.
They drifted to the yard, plants settling in.
Wat Melon hopped down, rooting with a thud.
Big Mouth Flower tugged free, sinking into soil.
Elemental life flexed—far from mundane blooms.
Noelle laid out tea and sweets, a cozy spread.
They sat, the table a calm amid the weirdness.
Ye Ruo blinked as Wendy leaned in, curious.
"You're asking how I know the Demon War?" he echoed.
"All made up—don't take it to heart," he brushed off.
"Novels twist tales, but the feelings? Real," he mused.
"Just wanted that story told," he finished.
The system pulsed, Ye Ruo's fame a steady wind.
His quirks bloomed—Mondstadt leaned closer still.
***
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