Chapter 74 I’m a Useless, Disappointing Big Brother

[Bosacius] 

[Are You Satisfied in This Life?]

Bosacius gazed at the darkening sky when suddenly the voice of the Human Principles System echoed in his ears.

"Not enough."

He stated firmly.

"No, you haven't been satisfied."

His tone was as final as a guillotine's drop.

The sky had grown very dark now. At the far edge of the deep blue horizon, rose-colored clouds amassed like piled brushstrokes. Every wave crest seemed to hoard the glow of the sunset as it crashed against the rocky outcrops. After the waves broke, a thin veil of foam floated along the shore, each bubble sparkling with brilliant radiance.

"I'm not ready to grow old yet."

Bosacius repeated those words.

Yet, in truth, he was very old now. In the aftermath of the war, Bosacius had aged with alarming rapidity—his temples were already flecked with white, and even his deep purple, lightning-filled eyes had taken on a certain desolation… or rather, a murkiness. They resembled an autumnal pool at dusk, whose placid depths hid a turbulent, murky chaos much like the rotten, decaying leaves at the bottom of a stagnant pond.

It was now the tenth year after the Immortal-God War, the 590th birthday of Marshal Vritras Bosacius, and also the first day of the New Year. Bosacius was neither an immortal beast nor a true celestial; he was merely a human who practiced immortal arts. Nearly six hundred years of life is more than long enough—and more than lucky—for a mortal, yet he claimed it still wasn't enough.

[Bosacius] 

[Position: Marshal Vritras] 

[Level: 89] 

[Element: Geo] 

[Martial Prowess: Demigod-Level] 

[Remaining Lifespan: 70 years] 

[Status: Utterly Chaotic]

"The lingering effects of the Immortal-God War have not yet run their course—I'm not ready to grow old," he declared. "I want to finish everything completely."

The war between the Celestials and Demons—Liyue's second great conflict after the century-long Demigod War—had left the people destitute and karmic burdens rampant. The evil god had died, yet the disaster he left behind was far from over. Filth, regret, and karmic afflictions persisted.

[Your current physical condition no longer permits you to act as you did during the Archon War. You are no longer young.]

The Human Principles System intoned. 

[You are already old.] 

[For the past ten years, you have been secretly devouring the karmic burdens in the hearts of the immortals—just as you did a hundred years ago—but the karma can never be completely consumed, and you are no longer the same as you were back then.] 

[Your aging body can no longer handle the use of Nuo Fu.] 

[Stop—this is my advice to you.]

Aging. Aging is a calamity from which no mortal can escape, and in the ten years following the Immortal-God War, for some reason, Bosacius had been aging especially fast.

Bosacius watched the twilight tides as the waves chased the last light of day. The sun's brilliance faded; fishing boats began returning to port, and the fishermen's songs echoed in reply. In every household, smoke rose from the kitchens—it was New Year's Day, and Liyue Harbor was bustling and vibrant. No matter how many times one saw it, the New Year in this nation was utterly endearing.

"System," Bosacius said, "it's New Year—Happy New Year."

[What?]

"The New Year at Liyue Harbor is so lively."

Bosacius coughed, then paused as he added, "New Year is a time for reunion. Every New Year, everyone gathers together—my junior sister, even those useless, disappointing Yaksha and the common folk of Liyue reunite, stringing up lanterns, festooning their homes, and celebrating with joy."

[Incomprehensible]

"I'm only a mortal. I will eventually depart this world," he murmured softly. "I cannot watch over Liyue's New Year forever; I cannot forever guard its people. But those foolish Yaksha can. I am a big brother who is useless and unworthy, and the only thing I can do is protect these idiots."

"I will devour their pain."

"In this way, they will stand in for me, watching over Liyue eternally—that is the meaning of these six hundred years of my life."

"Like a rock," he added with a satisfied grin. "Simply splendid."

[What do you intend to do?]

A warm breeze stirred the waves. Layer upon layer of rolling surf pounded against the rocks—old, dying waves broke into foam while the newborn ones swept that foam away, tumbling and piling up. It looked as if rain was coming, and the tide pressed into a thousand roaring surges!

*"Your aging body can no longer handle Nuo Fu."*

"Compress my life. I remember you can do it."

Bosacius smiled as the afterglow of the setting sun was reflected in his autumnal, pool-like eyes. "Seventy years is too long—it need not be that long. Shorten it, shorten it. Ten years, one year, one month, or even a single moment. 

Let me be young again. 

Let me be as young as I was a hundred years ago. 

Let me accomplish what I once achieved in a century."

The sunset in his eyes spread out, and brilliant red clouds stained the heavy sky, vast fields of flaming cloud—fire in the heavens.

[Bosacius]

The Human Principles System seemed poised to add more.

"I only said, 'I can't grow old,' not—"

Bosacius laughed heartily, his laugh free and exuberant, a smile that would live on, engraved deep within his soul.

"—not 'I can't die.'"

It was New Year's, and fireworks soared skyward. In the far reaches of the heavens, brilliant fireworks trailed long, luminous tails as they fell—so beautiful.

After a long moment, he appeared to sense something and let out a helpless sigh. Suddenly, everything went dark.

Delicate, pale fingers—with a cool, icy touch—covered his eyes from behind.

"Senior Brother, guess who I am."

The voice was cold.

"Junior Sister."

"That's it—if you call me 'Senior Brother,' who else could possibly call me that…?"

"Got caught."

The slender, greenish-white fingers let go. Bosacius turned around to see his junior sister—Ganyu—standing calmly behind him. Her pale blue hair was tied into a ponytail that trailed down her waist; two small, black-and-red qilin-like horns adorned her head; she wore a white cheongsam decorated with golden patterns, paired with black stockings whose trim was also in brilliant gold. She looked up at Bosacius with a steady, earnest gaze.

My little junior sister had always maintained that composed and refined expression—even when playing childish games like "Guess Who Am I," she was never ruffled. Always as calm and methodical as a little grown-up, she made one want to tease her.

Bosacius began to ruffle her hair, transforming her once-neat locks into a tousled, pleasant mess. The sensation was delightful, and the harder he massaged, the more he got carried away.

They were orthodox senior and junior siblings, having both apprenticed under the "Cloud Retainer" True Lord of the mighty and illuminated adepti. Bosacius, being a few years older than Ganyu, always referred to himself as "Senior Brother."

"Senior Brother," Ganyu said in her characteristically calm tone, "please, don't play childish games."

Her nature was so gentle that even as Bosacius roughly tousled her hair, she remained unperturbed. Yet, you were just playing that "guess who I am" game like a child…

"You've grown up, Junior Sister—you're no longer cute in a playful way," Bosacius remarked with a sigh of nostalgia, as age made him prone to sentimental reminiscences: 

"You know, when you were little, you were chubby and round. The other little rascals could never beat you in a fight—you'd just roll on the ground and they'd scatter…" 

A slight pain flared in his waist.

"Senior Brother," Ganyu said.

Her eyes remained calm and refined, though her ears flushed slightly and she pursed her lips. In a measured tone she suggested, 

"Water under the bridge need not be mentioned."

"Whispers of the river are quite interesting too… hiss… alright, fine, let's not speak of 'Water under the Bridge'."

Bosacius gave an exasperated surrender.

"And…," Ganyu's voice dropped a little.

"And what?" Bosacius inquired.

"And…"

Unconsciously, Junior Sister clutched at the edge of Bosacius's garment; her ice-blue eyes lowered as she avoided his questioning gaze. Bosacius noticed the remaining glow of the fireworks casting a faint, intoxicating blush on her delicate profile. Her ruby lips parted ever so slightly, and after a long pause, in a voice barely above a whisper she said, 

"Am I… not cute now?"

Her ice-blue eyes met his violet ones.

Bosacius hadn't expected his little sister to say something so fitting of the traditional junior-sister persona. Ever earnest and meticulous, even when joking or playing games, she maintained her graceful, calm demeanor—confident and gentle, with the very bearing of a qilin. And yet now her eyes drooped, her voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

"Adorable," he murmured as he resumed ruffling her hair and gently pinched her cheek. "But I still think a bit more plumpness is cuter—you're too skinny. Don't always be so obsessed with dieting. Being pleasantly chubby is just fine."

"Idiot," Ganyu replied quietly, fixing her gaze on her senior brother.

Bosacius's appearance had hardly changed over a hundred years; he still looked no older than about thirty and remained handsome. The real signs of aging were in the small details—a stray white hair at his temples, the occasional cough, the fleeting tiredness and weariness in his eyes. Though he concealed it well, a keen observer could always notice the subtle anomalies. These were the early signs of aging, and Ganyu had noticed them as soon as they appeared... She was truly exceptional.

A mortal's lifespan is finite. Ganyu was no fool. She wouldn't only come to the realization when those close to her were on the verge of dying, nor would she stubbornly believe that time never changes. She was exceptionally skilled at observation and analysis, decisive and efficient; once she set her mind to something, she would see it through—Ganyu never wanted to live with regret.

As fireworks blossomed against the night sky, Liyue Harbor began to bustle. Lanterns, dragon dances, firecrackers—the shouts of vendors, the riddle-solving of women, the clinking of cups as men drank together—all the sounds and sights merged into a vibrant cacophony.

"Senior Brother, over there is really lively."

Ganyu tilted her head and, under the glow of the fireworks, smiled gently, "You promised that you'd take me to the market and spend the New Year with me."

"...You know, expensive things are beyond my means, Senior Brother."

Bosacius replied.

"Come on, let's go—I'll pay the bill." She took his hand and led him toward the dazzling, festive throng. To her, it seemed she had everything; she fancied that she had come to understand time through careful observation—but in truth, it was all wishful thinking. Fireworks are fragile, and little did Ganyu know that this would be the last New Year spent with her senior brother.

---

[Xuan-Level Technique "Colorful Sunshine" – First Layer Stretch Exercises, Section One: The Way of Simplicity, Dispelling the Superfluous; it is called "One."]

Qiqi's eyes widened in awe. "One!"

Yaku's expression grew solemn. He bent his knees slightly, brought his left hand across his body with a slight bend at the elbow, and placed his right hand to steady his left at the elbow. Then he drew his left arm toward his body until he felt the muscles in his shoulder tighten.

Little Qiqi, with a look of utmost concentration, mimicked him—her short left hand reaching across her body, striving with all her might to hook her right elbow. She looked so earnest and determined.

"Very good."

Yaku said gravely, "Now, Exercise Two—called 'Two.'"

He turned his body to the side and repeated the movement, this time switching the roles of his left and right arms. "Two!"

"Two!" came the simultaneous cry from Qiqi, as she clumsily alternated the motions, her voice high and babyish, echoing, "Two!"

"You have barely entered the door of divine martial arts. Now, channel your innate energy and, following my lead, circulate this technique through several cycles until it becomes second nature. Remember, adjust your breathing rhythm—adjust your 'qi'—and the pace of its flow."

Yaku's tone was serious.

The phrase "channel your innate energy and circulate the technique through several cycles" sounded very lofty—a highbrow way of saying you must repeat the morning exercises several times for the school head to notice. In less sophisticated terms, "adjust your breathing rhythm" really meant follow the cadence of "one-two, one-two, one-two" in perfect unison!

Little Qiqi trusted him completely. She listened intently to Yaku's instructions, adjusted her breathing, and began cycling through the "Colorful Sunshine, First Form" several more rounds.

"One." 

"Two." 

"One-two, one-two, one-two…" 

Today was the second day of the New Year. From New Year's Eve to the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, it could all be counted as the Lantern Rite.

The morning air was fresh and clean; the sunlight was bright and warm—truly the best time of the day. Now, as the early light bathed the land, a Little Corpse and a Little Little Corpse were diligently performing their morning exercises in Liyue Plaza—a scene both harmonious and charming.

Mornings are for exercise; one must do the morning calisthenics. This was an indispensable part of Seino Yaku's "joyfully carefree life plan"—to live earnestly and to cherish the small matters in life. These were the words Yaku had imparted to Qiqi.

Lumine sat on a nearby bench, resting her chin on her hand as she idly watched the pair—a grumpy old man and a little one. Paimon, on the other hand, was watching very intently. With her hands on her hips and a pout of indignation, she muttered, "Damn that scoundrel—he has such divine martial arts but won't teach them to Paimon! He must be afraid that Paimon is exceptionally gifted and threatens his talent!" Her eyes went wide as she pricked her ears, listening carefully in the hopes of picking up a move or two. 

Silly Paimon, taking it all seriously.

Lumine shook her head helplessly. She then gazed intently at the side profile of Seino Yaku. The young man wore a thin shirt that clung to his collarbones with sweat; his long hair was damp; his fair skin caught the dazzling morning light; his eyes were warm and dark like ink; and his demeanor was dignified and resolute… 

This old geezer—after his rebirth—seemed even more handsome, somehow. 

Lumine suddenly realized the truth: could it be that his body was made of the jade from Cape Oath…?

Just then, the morning exercises on the other side ended. Yaku turned and met Lumine's gaze. Her ears flushed slightly. Shaking her head to dispel the jumbled thoughts, she stood up and gathered the towels she always carried—a large one and a small one—handing the larger towel to Yaku and the smaller one to Qiqi. She chided the young man in a continuous stream of reminders, "Make sure to dry your hair thoroughly—you don't want to catch a cold… and soon it'll be breakfast time."