I arrived at Wangshu Inn some time after sunset, when the yellow-orange hue of the sky settles back into a cool blue just before the dark of night. I had some forewarning of its scale prior to my arrival; Before one heads down the Dihua Marsh, towards Liyue City, the tree can be seen hanging over the horizon in all its glory, something between majestic and ominous against the backdrop of the wet marshes below. Now looking up from the base of the Inn, one is filled with a sense of fear. It is no small wonder that the rock does not simply fall over.

As it was roughly dinner time, the dining area set about the entrance was brimming with rural visitors and foreign travelers. The familiar scents of garlic, onion, meats, and traditional Liyue spices wafted through the brisk night air, fomenting a wave hunger within me. Though a maid ran up and down taking orders diligently at the tables, I opted to climb the steps alone and make do with the dry bread in my satchel—I've never felt more alone than when surrounded by a crowd of smiling faces, and even moreso in the lively atmosphere of a countryside inn. There was little more terrifying than the fear of breaking into a crowd as an outsider. Would I be cast aside immediately? Though I cared little for conversation, the thought alone unsettled me—of being rejected by society before I could reject it first.

I ascended the rock to the main building, taking bites of sandy rye-bread between labored breaths. I stopped briefly somewhere near the top, as the white-gold Moon crested just above the snowy crown of Dragonspine. Within my failing eyes was all the beauty of my former life reflected. I could see, just barely, that ridge where her body still may lie. Would she look up to this same Moon, feeling that cold chill of death creeping up her spine?

I felt like throwing myself into the rocks below, but after some time ascended, Mora in hand, and rented a small, cramped cuddy in the wall.