“As for certain core details of your personal research, if you have sufficient reason that does not endanger others, you may exercise discretion when stating your case to Her Majesty in private.
But the prerequisite is that Her Majesty trusts your judgment.” It was a concession of sorts.
Dottore inclined his head slightly.
“Understood.” Pierro looked at his still pallid face and finally raised a third finger, his tone complex.
“Third, and this is my personal decision.
During your period of recuperation, in order to prevent certain people from disappearing without notice again—” he deliberately emphasized those words, “—I will be keeping watch over you personally.” Dottore’s eyes snapped up in astonishment.
“You?
Personally?” “What, displeased?” Pierro gave a snort.
“Or are you already planning your next ‘trip’?” “Of course not.” Dottore swiftly denied it, a perfectly calibrated look of helplessness crossing his face.
“I merely think the Director is making rather too much of a small matter.” Pierro stood, walked to the window, and gazed out at the heavy snowfall, his back to Dottore.
“Watching you is far less trouble than cleaning up the mess you leave behind.” The words were blunt, but Dottore could hear the lingering fear and unshakeable resolve beneath them.
He knew that this time, Pierro was deadly serious.
“Fine.” Dottore sighed in a show of capitulation and leaned back against his pillows.
“Then I shall be in your care, Pierro.
However, since you will be staying here, perhaps we could discuss those sample data?
I have some conjectures about energy conversion efficiency that may require verification in conjunction with Snezhnaya’s existing elemental technology…” He began using academic topics to close the distance, tentatively throwing out peripheral information about the otherworldly technology, both demonstrating its value and paving the way for potential future “collaborative research.” Pierro turned around.
He looked at Dottore, weak in his sickbed but with the light of research already reignited in his eyes, and felt a mix of helplessness and rueful admiration.
This man, the moment anything touched on knowledge and experimentation, would immediately spring back to life.
“That’s acceptable.” Pierro sat back down, his expression stern.
“But it is limited to discussion only.
Any actual hands-on operation must wait until you have recovered and obtained permission.” “Of course, of course.” Dottore readily agreed, a faint smile appearing on his pale face.
“Then shall we start with the energy decay curve of these Temporal Resonance Ore fragments under extreme low temperatures?
I’ve noticed an interesting intersection point with the resonance frequency of Snezhnaya’s local Shivada Jade…” And so, inside the medical room, a weakened but mentally agile scholar and an authoritative yet patiently attentive Director began their first informal seminar on cross-world energy technology.
Dottore skillfully guided the conversation, sharing some genuine and valuable data—carefully filtered, of course—while constantly hinting at the enormous application prospects behind these discoveries, especially regarding the enhancement of Fatui equipment and energy supply.
Although Pierro remained vigilant, he could not deny that if what Dottore had brought back could be successfully analyzed and applied, it would significantly bolster Snezhnaya’s national strength.
This might well become a crucial bargaining chip to persuade the Tsaritsa to deal with Dottore more leniently, perhaps even reopen some of his research permissions.
Yet, even as Dottore appeared intently absorbed in explaining a set of data, his thoughts were drifting elsewhere.
After returning to Teyvat, he had clearly sensed that the self-repair speed of [Heart of Life] had slowed down considerably once more, almost returning to that initial trickle-like pace.
The recovery of his overdrawn essence was progressing at an extremely sluggish rate.
At this rate, who knew how long it would take for him to fully recover.
He was already calculating how to use this period of being “guarded” by Pierro to discreetly learn more about the specific situation of his sealed laboratory.
And how to use that “report” he was about to write to weave a “story” that would satisfy the Tsaritsa’s demands without touching upon his core secrets.
Time was still pressing.
But at the very least, he was back in Teyvat, back at the heart of the storm.
The next step was to carefully turn the first key to unlock the situation while restoring his strength.
Pierro was true to his word.
A corner of the private medical room, originally intended for critical patients, was swiftly converted into a simple workspace.
A heavy desk, a few chairs, a small cabinet for storing documents and brewing tea, and a communication terminal directly linked to Zapolyarny Palace’s internal network and Pierro’s private line.
In order to better “keep an eye” on Dottore, Pierro spent most of his time here.
During the day, he handled the daily affairs of the Director, his gaze occasionally drifting over to Dottore, who rested quietly or flipped through materials in his bed.
At night, he slept on the adjacent cot.
Dottore’s life of “convalescence,” under Pierro’s personal watch, unfolded in a peculiar manner.
His body slowly recovered under the dual effects of [Heart of Life] and medical treatment.
Though his face was no longer paper-white, it still held the pallor of someone recovering from a long illness.
He was permitted limited indoor activity, but any attempt to approach the door or any behavior that looked like he might be about to use his powers would immediately draw Pierro’s sharp gaze.
The medical room had practically become Pierro’s temporary office and reception room.
Dottore’s quiet recuperation did not last long.
Visitors soon came, one after another.
Pierro did not prevent his fellow Harbingers from visiting.
As long as it did not interfere with Dottore’s rest, he even welcomed it.
It might, perhaps, distract this restless man a little and keep him from constantly plotting how to slip away.
The first to arrive was Columbina.
She still wore her white-and-blue lunar goddess attire, her bare feet lightly touching the suspended crescent bases, her eyes closed as ever, her expression serene beneath her veil.
She did not come empty-handed.
In her hands was an exquisite multi-tiered food box, from which wafted a sweet and comforting aroma.
“Good afternoon, Mister Pierro, and Mister Dottore.
I heard you were back.
Are you still feeling unwell?” She placed the food box on the bedside table, her voice ethereal and full of concern.
“I brought some pastries recommended by the moon spirits.
The flavors are very special, and they seem to help with mental recovery.
There’s also some maple sugar ice crisps the kitchen has been experimenting with.
I hope you both like them.” Pierro nodded to her and did not stop her.
Columbina was one of the few people he could trust to visit Dottore without worry.
Dottore leaned against the headboard and offered this colleague, with whom he had a decent relationship, a relatively gentle expression.
“Mm.
Just a minor issue from overexertion.” Columbina “looked” toward him.
Even with her eyes closed, one could feel her focused attention.
“The moon spirits say you carry the scent of a very distant place…
and a little trace of ‘fractures.’ The place you went to was very dangerous, wasn’t it?” Dottore’s mind stirred slightly.
Columbina’s perception remained astonishingly sharp.
“There was some trouble, but it has been dealt with.” He glossed over it lightly, picking up a pastry that glowed with an enticing elemental shimmer.
He tasted it.
The sweetness was just right, carrying the fragrance of maple leaves and the coolness of ice and snow.
It was indeed quite good.
“It tastes nice.
It seems your ‘gourmet radar’ is as precise as ever.
Tell me, have you and the moon spirits discovered any more ‘interesting’ places lately?” Columbina was successfully diverted.
She smiled happily and settled into a small chair beside Dottore’s bed, enthusiastically sharing the wondrous changes in certain natural rhythms she had recently “heard,” along with her insights on crafting pastries with different ingredients.
Her company was light and pure, allowing Dottore’s taut nerves to relax just a fraction.