The second day of the shop's opening proved as successful as the first. Customers crowded in, marveling at the bikes, asking questions, and lining up to purchase their own.
Mona and Alina managed sales smoothly. Anthony spent his time teaching people how to ride, correcting posture and balance, and handled maintenance himself when issues came up, growing more capable under Henry's guidance.
Even Eula stopped by briefly, curious about how the operation had expanded.
Once the morning rush tapered off, Henry decided to pay a long-overdue visit to the library. He had promised Lisa he would come by, remembering her playful insistence at the shop's inauguration.
He hadn't forgotten his promise. He'd just… postponed it.
Instead of heading straight for the library, he slowed near the market stalls, scanning faces and signs.
He stopped at one stall, then another. Most vendors shrugged when he asked, some guessing wildly, others offering whatever blend they happened to have on hand.
Eventually, he found a stall that looked less eager to sell and more certain of what it carried.
"Yes, Miss Lisa does come to my shop from time to time," the young lady said decisively, already reaching for a container. "Sweet blend. Light spice."
She lifted the lid, and warm steam curled into the air, carrying a faint floral scent.
"Then two cups, please."
The vendor nodded and worked quickly, pouring the tea with practiced ease. Coins changed hands, and the cups were passed over moments later, their warmth seeping into Henry's palms as he accepted them carefully, mindful not to spill a drop.
With the tea secured, he headed toward the Knights of Favonius headquarters. His steps fell into a steady rhythm as he walked, the faint slosh inside the containers matching his pace.
The library doors closed behind him with a muted sound, shutting out the bustle of the city. Inside, the air felt different—still, almost reverent. Tall shelves stretched upward, packed tightly with books and scrolls. Dust motes drifted lazily through the shafts of light filtering down from high windows. Somewhere deeper inside, pages turned, followed by the faint scratch of ink against parchment.
Lisa was alone.
She sat perched on a high stool behind the counter, one leg crossed over the other, several scrolls and open books spread casually around her. One hand propped up her chin while the other turned a page with idle familiarity, as though she had already absorbed its contents and was merely humoring it. The quiet of the library seemed to bend around her presence rather than interrupt it.
She looked up at the sound of footsteps and raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
"Henry?" A small smile followed, curious rather than guarded.
Henry stepped forward and offered the tea, holding it out with a hint of flourish. "I thought you might enjoy this."
Lisa blinked, her fingers pausing midway through turning a page as the scent reached her. Recognition flickered across her face. She straightened slightly, her gaze shifting between the cups and Henry before settling on him again.
"Well now," she said, accepting one. The warmth curled around her fingers as she took it. She gestured lazily toward the chair opposite her. "Sit."
Henry didn't need to be told twice.
"I don't usually have visitors in the afternoons," Lisa continued, her tone relaxed as she took a sip. "But I can't say I mind. This is… pleasant."
Henry leaned back in the chair, a grin tugging at his lips. "Even the most dedicated librarian deserves a proper break now and then."
Her eyes glinted with amusement. "Mm. And I hear your reputation is growing just as quickly as your business. A newcomer making that much noise doesn't go unnoticed."
"Word travels fast in Mondstadt," he replied easily. "Especially when someone's work stands out."
Lisa laughed softly. "So you have been asking around."
"Only a little," he admitted. "Your afternoon tea habit, for instance. That one traces back to Sumeru, doesn't it?"
That earned a brief pause.
Lisa's gaze sharpened, curiosity threading through her smile. "Impressive, Henry. And yes—you're right. It stuck with me after my studies there. Helps keep the mind sharp."
"So," he said lightly, "I'll take that as confirmation that you're firmly on the tea side of the eternal coffee-versus-tea debate."
"A pity," she replied with mock seriousness. "I was hoping to argue with you about it."
They shared a brief smile before Lisa's attention shifted, her eyes drifting toward the window and then back to him.
"Now," she said, setting her cup down, "about that vehicle of yours. The bicycle. You made quite the impression during the opening."
Henry's expression brightened immediately. He leaned forward, hands moving as he spoke, shaping invisible diagrams in the air. He explained the balance between weight and strength, the way gears controlled effort and speed, how stability mattered just as much as power—especially on uneven roads.
Lisa watched intently, eyes tracking every motion. She didn't interrupt or ask him to simplify. Instead, she absorbed it all, fingers tapping lightly against the table as if mapping the ideas in her head.
"And its durability?" she asked once he finished.
He exhaled through his nose, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "Not where I want it to be. Not yet."
Her gaze lingered on him longer this time.
"The materials," she said slowly. "They aren't native to Teyvat."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was deliberate.
"You're not from here," Lisa said calmly.
Henry stiffened.
She leaned forward just slightly, her voice steady. "I have a friend—brilliant, eccentric—who also brought unfamiliar ideas into this world. You remind me of her."
A name surfaced immediately in Henry's mind.
Alice.
He let out a breath and nodded. "You're right. I'm not."
Lisa's eyes widened just a fraction, not with shock but with genuine interest. She scooted her chair closer, her voice softening. "Then tell me. How did you come here? What is your world like?"
Henry leaned back and lifted his cup, letting the aroma ground him. "It's complicated," he said. "I work with machines—designing how they behave, how they respond to the world around them. One night I went to sleep in my own bed. The next morning, I woke up here."
He spoke of towering buildings, trains and buses, networks of machines talking to one another. Of systems embedded into everyday objects. Of computers and artificial intelligence—not as thinking beings, but as tools that chose the least wrong option when faced with uncertainty.
Lisa followed effortlessly, her questions sharp and thoughtful, pushing him to explain further. Her fascination only grew.
"Your world sounds extraordinary," she said at last.
Then her eyes gleamed. "With Albedo and me working alongside you, we could improve your bicycle significantly. Better materials. Stronger construction."
Henry didn't hesitate. "Whenever he's free, I'm in."
Lisa tilted her head, folding her arms beneath her chest as she leaned forward slightly. "And what about me? Don't you think you should ask whether I'll be available?"
"Eh—" Henry stopped himself, cleared his throat, and looked away briefly before meeting her gaze again. A faint warmth crept up his ears.
Lisa laughed. "Relax. I'm teasing."
Hours passed without either of them noticing. Ideas flowed, theories collided, and the tea went cold, forgotten.
He only realized how late it had become when the library dimmed. Rising reluctantly, he gathered the empty cups.
"I should head back."
Lisa smiled, satisfied. "Until next time, Henry."
Outside, Henry walked on towards his shop, Mondstadt now lit by rows of hanging lanterns.
The day had been productive, but it had also revealed something far more important—trust, curiosity, and the beginnings of a friendship forged in shared knowledge and genuine interest.
Dinner was simple but filling, shared quietly with Alina. They talked about small things—plans for the next day, profits, stock management.
Later, Henry climbed into the bed, settling in and closing his eyes.
-
Morning arrived with a pale glow filtering through the windows. He stretched instinctively, then paused, noticing how the mattress felt softer than it should have—too familiar beneath him.
The bed itself was unmistakable, and as his eyes moved across the room, that same quiet familiarity pressed in from all sides, leaving no room for doubt.
Henry's chest tightened, breath catching. He scanned the room again, slowly, as if confirming it would shatter the illusion.
His gaze fell on the PC resting quietly on the table, exactly as he had left it. Fingers twitched, heart thudding, he scrambled upright.
"HOLY SHIT."
---
Power Stones👀
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