The expected nerve-shredding pain of the fall never came.
His back crashed into a soft embrace carrying the scent of grass and the breeze.
The impact wasn’t heavy, yet it securely caught his falling body, wrapping him in a gentle, warm draft of air that made his heart skip a beat.
Soren’s tense back suddenly relaxed, the lingering sensation of weightlessness still swirling through his limbs.
He subconsciously fluttered his eyelashes open.
Backlit by the sun, Venti’s green hair swayed gently in the wind, one of his eyes curving into a crescent moon beneath his hat brim while the other was playfully winked shut, his tongue poking out just a bit with a look of triumphant playfulness.
“And here I thought you wouldn’t dare jump,” Venti’s voice was wrapped in the wind, clear and a little mischievous.
“I was already poised in mid-air just now, thinking that once you panicked, I’d fly up and scoop you right up.”
Only then did Soren belatedly realize that Venti had wrapped an arm around his waist.
His arm wasn’t particularly muscular, yet it brought a strange sense of security.
His fingertips still seemed to carry the soft, light touch of freshly picked dandelions, sending a faint chill up the back of Soren’s neck through the thin fabric of his clothes.
He stiffened abruptly.
His thoughts, which had been scattered by the wind just a moment ago, instantly rushed back, and a panic akin to suddenly stepping into empty space surged up again.
After freezing for a solid two seconds, he flusteredly raised his hands to push against Venti’s shoulders, struggling to leap out of his embrace.
He took a small step back upon landing, putting some distance between them.
“E-Even though I know you…”
Soren’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
His gaze darted away, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his shirt; however, the words suddenly caught in his throat, forcing him to quickly change his tune.
“No!
Wait, I mean, you shouldn’t know me in the first place!
Why did you think to…
uh…”
He scratched his head, struggling to find the right words amidst his chaotic thoughts.
“Rescue me, I guess?”
From his initial instinctive tensing of his back and guarded stance, his voice grew increasingly sheepish as he spoke, until he finally resorted to rubbing the back of his head.
The tips of his ears flushed a quiet red, and his words became incoherent, making him look exactly like a child caught red-handed.
Venti, meanwhile, simply stood where he was, one hand tucked into his pocket while the other swayed in the air, his fingertips seemingly lingering on the sensation of holding the other boy just moments ago.
Watching Soren’s flustered state, the smile in his eyes was impossible to hide, and the corners of his mouth curved into a slight arc.
He was in no rush to interrupt.
Once Soren had calmed down a bit, Venti suddenly closed the distance, reaching out to tilt his chin up.
Venti’s fingertips carried a slight chill from the wind.
When he gently tilted Soren’s chin up with a casual touch, it instantly made Soren feel as though he were pinned to the spot, his intended movement to pull back freezing mid-air.
He could smell the faint scent of dandelions and apple cider.
Forced to meet those clear blue eyes, Soren saw that the playfulness in them had faded, replaced by a trace of genuine curiosity.
Venti’s words slowed down, as if he were carefully turning over the contradiction in Soren’s statement.
“What do you mean…
you know me?
And that I shouldn’t know you?”
Soren’s heart skipped a beat, the cool sensation on the back of his neck replaced by a rush of heat.
He opened his mouth, but his throat felt tight.
The words about him coming from another world and having known the Anemo Archon, Venti, for a long time stuck to the tip of his tongue, completely unspeakable.
He could hardly tell him that he had watched the bard’s story countless times across a screen, which was why he felt this mix of familiarity and dread upon meeting him.
“I-I mean…”
Soren frantically turned his head to avoid that direct gaze, forgetting that his chin was still being held.
The movement only succeeded in brushing his skin against Venti’s cool fingertips.
“I heard someone mention you before, so that counts as ‘knowing’ you.
But you’ve definitely never heard of me, which is why you ‘shouldn’t know me’…
Yes, that’s it.”
He spoke faster and faster, his voice rising a bit higher as if he were trying to force Venti to believe him, or perhaps trying to convince himself.
His fingers unconsciously clawed at the hem of his shirt, the crimson from his ears spreading all the way to his cheeks, making him look exactly like a child desperately trying to cover up an exposed secret.
Watching him panic until even the tip of his nose flushed, the curiosity in Venti’s eyes was gradually replaced by amusement.
He gently let go, taking half a step back, and tucked his hands back into his pockets with a little tilt of his head.
“Oh?
Heard about me from someone else, did you?”
He dragged out the last word, his tone carrying an obvious tease.
“Then why don’t you tell me?
What exactly did they say about me?”
“Well…”
Soren’s Adam’s apple bobbed again, the words clogging in his throat like cotton.
He could hardly say, “Someone told me you’re the Anemo Archon, and I even know you like to slack off in taverns,” could he?
His grip on his shirt hem tightened, and his gaze drifted toward a patch of nearby dandelions, his ears still burning red as he struggled to find a suitable excuse.
Seeing his hesitant, tongue-tied state, Venti suddenly burst into a soft chuckle.
Like a gust of wind, he swept forward and grabbed Soren’s wrist before the other boy could even react.
Though his palm had a few light calluses but was surprisingly warm, while his grip wasn’t tight, yet it possessed an irresistible, breezy momentum.
He pulled Soren directly toward the town not far away, his green hair swaying with his strides.
“It’s fine, don’t worry if you can’t think of anything.”
Venti’s voice was light with laughter, his very steps exuding a bright cheerfulness.
“I didn’t care about that sort of thing anyway.
But-”
He turned his head and gave Soren a quick wink, his tone making his next words sound perfectly reasonable.
“I did just save your life, didn’t I?
As a thank-you, inviting me for a cup of apple cider wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?”
“Wait!”
Soren instinctively pulled back, twisting his wrist to slip free of Venti’s grip.
Quickly taking half a step back, he spread his hands wide to gesture at Venti, his tone carrying a trace of helpless exasperation.
“I don’t have a single Mora on me!
I look even poorer than you do!”
Hearing this, Venti halted.
The look in his eyes as he turned to stare at Soren grew intrigued, as if he had just heard some fascinating piece of news.
He arched an eyebrow and reached out to poke Soren’s open palm, the cool touch of his fingertip causing Soren to instinctively pull his hand back.
“Poorer than me?”
Venti dragged out his words, his gaze sweeping over Soren from head to toe as if assessing something.
“But the way I see it…
you don’t exactly look like the type to lack Mora.”
His words carried a hint of ambiguity, his gaze drifting seemingly by chance toward the horns on top of Soren’s head.
Soren’s heart leaped into his throat.
He hurriedly raised his hands to brush his hair behind his ears, trying to cover up those giveaway details.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice carrying a nervous edge.
“I-I really don’t…
I only arrived here a few days ago, I don’t even know how to earn Mora yet.”
This wasn’t entirely a lie; he had transmigrated into this world as an incubus, and he hadn’t even figured out his own abilities yet, let alone how to make money.
Seeing his highly strung reaction, the amusement in Venti’s eyes deepened.
He didn’t press the matter of the Mora further.
Instead, he shifted the topic, leaning in a fraction closer as he lowered his voice, speaking in a deliberately soft, coaxing tone.
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t have any Mora.”
He twirled a dandelion seed that had appeared in his hand at some point.
“I’m quite familiar with the tavern owners in Mondstadt.
Perhaps…
if we trade something else, we can still get some apple cider?”
Hearing this, Soren immediately wrapped his arms around his own shoulders in a protective stance.
“N-No!
I’m a guy!
What kind of wicked thoughts are you having?!”
Venti spread his hands in mild resignation, his tone thick with teasing.
“Oh?
But I didn’t say what we’d trade.
Could it be that someone has a dirty mind and jumped to conclusions?”
At this, Soren couldn’t help but blush deeply to the tips of his ears, shouting out loud:
“Get lost!
Fine, I need to get out of here.
See you around if we get the chance.”
“Oh dear, how heart-breaking,”
Venti sighed, putting on a show of dramatic disappointment, while Soren walked off into the distance without looking back.
Yet soon enough, a voice called out from behind him once more:
“If I have to rescue you next time, I’ll definitely be demanding a reward!”
…