It was a shimmering morning, and the sky was as clean as a piece of white paper just spread out. Fontaine, the country that always reminds people of blue lakes and white courts, woke up in the dim light.
I stood in the center of the city, and Catherine was speaking to me in her unchanging voice as usual. She said, “You can now accept daily commissions from Fontaine.”
Her eyes were like two frozen crystals, neither sad nor happy. I know that in this city, she is the only unchanging existence. She is not like me, who has to run around, go through the wind and rain, and complete those tasks that seem to never be completed. She stands still, but she is in control of everything.
I received four commissions. Four every day, no more, no less, just like the four new leaves a tree spits out in spring, each of which has its reason for existence.
—
The first commission was to help a researcher. There was a problem with his underwater device.
When I arrived at the scene, the sun was shining, and he squatted on a bluestone, like a child trapped by a problem. He saw me coming, raised his head, and his eyes were full of trust.
“Traveler, I need your help.” He said.
His voice was soft, like a gust of wind just blowing over the water.
I didn’t speak, but just nodded. Many times, language is not the most important thing here. What is important is the understanding – you know he needs you, and you are willing to do something for him.
So I dived into the water, looking for the out-of-control device. The water was cold, but also very clear. The small fish swam through my fingers, as if telling me that they had been watching how humans were busy, rushing, and how they left alone in this water.
—
The second commission was to submit a court document.
I carried the official document and walked through the streets. The white flowers on the roadside were blooming, like a group of quiet listeners. When the wind blew, they trembled slightly, as if they were whispering some secrets.
On the way, I passed a theater, and several actors were standing in front of the door rehearsing their lines. Their voices were decisive, but also full of tenderness.
“In Fontaine, everyone lives under the law.” They said.
I suddenly felt a little dazed, and felt that this sentence was not a line, but an annotation of fate. The people here are like the wheat ears I have seen in the fields. They all stand straight, silently mature in the sun, and wait for harvest.
—
After completing the task, I returned to Catherine, and she handed me some raw stones and Mora. I didn’t care much about these. What I cared more about was that she told me: “Your reputation has improved.”
What is reputation? I don’t know. I only know that as my reputation increases, I can get more tools, more trust, and go to more places.
But I also began to understand that every “promotion” is like a brick built into the city wall. The higher you climb, the farther you can see, but the harder it is to leave this city.
—
Sometimes, I would stand on the high tower of Fontaine and watch the whole city dyed red by the sunset. At that moment, I remembered the land I had walked on in the distant continent of Teyvat. The wind of Mondstadt, the mountains of Liyue, the thunder and lightning of Inazuma…
Every piece of land has made my heart beat.
But only in Fontaine, I began to feel something heavy – not tired, but responsible.
A silent but firm sense of mission from deep in my heart.
These four daily commissions seem simple, but they are actually the bridge of trust in the city and the clue of emotions between people. It makes a city no longer cold and a traveler no longer lonely.
—
Now, my reputation has risen to level seven. The city has opened more doors to me, and production drawings, identifiers, and transmission tools are presented to me one by one.
But what I cherish most is not these, but the inadvertent glances, smiles and tacit understanding in every commission.
I know that one day, I will leave here and go to the next country. But I also know that Fontaine will always stay in my heart.
Like a piece of light on the water, I quietly put it into the bottle of memory.