Work Text:
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: Jueyan Kurst
Name: Chen Fang
I am Chen Fang, an adventurer registered with the Adventurers' Guild in Liyue.
Several days ago, I accepted what is, by all accounts, one of the easiest commissions I have ever received. A local merchant has hired me to travel to Mondstadt, observe the local economy, and identify any untapped markets that might be profitable for future trade. Simple. Almost disappointingly so.
If anything, hiring an adventurer seems excessive. A merchant's assistant - or even one of the Guild's couriers if one is feeling particularly fancy - could have completed the same task for a fraction of the cost. The merchant insisted otherwise. His reasoning was that my family has traded goods for generations. We're hardly one of Liyue Harbor's great merchant houses, but we know enough to recognize opportunities when we see them. Combined with my experience traveling between settlements, I was apparently the ideal candidate.
I'm not convinced. Still, Mora is Mora. The journey itself should take a little under two weeks, assuming the roads remain safe and the weather holds.
I've never been to Mondstadt before. I've heard plenty, of course. The City of Freedom. A nation where the winds never truly rest. A place where songs are as valuable as contracts and where strangers are welcomed as readily as old friends. The stories make it sound... pleasant. Perhaps even relaxing.
If I'm fortunate, I'll spend a few weeks taking notes, enjoying the local wine, buying a few souvenirs, and returning to Liyue with enough information to satisfy my employer. If I'm very fortunate, I might even discover a business opportunity before one of the larger trading houses notices it.
I don't expect this journal to contain anything particularly interesting. Mostly prices. Trade routes. Popular imports. Perhaps a few observations about local customs. Nothing more.
Still, Father always said that a good merchant records everything. You never know which insignificant detail will become important later.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: A Road? I'm a Bit Lost
Name: Chen Fang
So... I've gotten lost.
Remarkable, really. I was supposed to follow the main road north from Stone Gate toward Dawn Winery. Nice, simple directions. The sort even an adventurer running on two hours of sleep shouldn't be able to mess up.
Instead, I somehow wandered far enough east that I'm fairly certain I'm closer to Stormterror's Lair than I am to the Winery.
How? Excellent question. The road was there the entire time. I could see it. Then I stopped for lunch. When I stood up, the road was... over there. I don't remember leaving it. I don't remember taking a turn. There aren't even enough crossroads around here to justify this level of incompetence.
I blame the wind. It isn't a particularly satisfying explanation, but it's the only one I have.
Fortunately, the scenery is pleasant enough to make being lost tolerable. The hills are greener than they are in Liyue, and the breeze never seems to stop. Every few minutes it changes direction, carrying the scent of wildflowers one moment and pine the next. It's oddly refreshing.
I can almost understand why the people here speak so fondly of the wind. Almost.
Assuming I've read my map correctly - and at this point I don't entirely trust myself - I should be able to head west until I reconnect with the main road. Assuming I somehow miss that road as well, I may have to swallow my pride and ask for directions.
From a hilichurl, perhaps. At least they seem to have a better sense of direction than I do. How do you speak to a hilichurl again?
...
On a more curious note, I passed three travelers earlier today. Each of them greeted me cheerfully, each of them gave me slightly different directions to Dawn Winery, and each ended with exactly the same sentence.
"The wind will take you where you need to go."
I assumed it was just a local expression. It probably is. Still... It was strange hearing the exact same wording from complete strangers.
Maybe everyone in Mondstadt simply talks like that.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: The Main Road
Name: Chen Fang
I found it! The road, I mean.
After several hours of wandering around the wilderness and questioning every life decision that led me to this moment, I have successfully relocated the very large road that I somehow managed to lose.
I would like to state for the record that roads should not be this difficult to find.
While searching, I encountered one of the locals. A child. No older than ten, if I had to guess. They were sitting on a fence post near a field, watching the road with the sort of patience only children seem capable of possessing.
I asked for directions. The child stared at me. I explained that I was trying to reach Dawn Winery. The child continued staring at me. Then they asked where I had come from. I pointed vaguely toward the eastern hills. The child looked at me for several seconds. Then looked at the hills. Then looked back at me.
I swear they somehow appeared disappointed. Not confused. Not surprised. Disappointed. As though I had failed some sort of test without realizing there had been one.
Eventually they pointed toward the road. The same road I had apparently managed to walk past at least twice.
"Thank you," I said.
The child sighed. Actually sighed. Then muttered something under their breath that sounded suspiciously like, "The wind already showed you."
Before I could ask what that meant, they hopped off the fence and ran off.
Children are strange no matter the nation, I suppose. Still, it was a peculiar interaction.
Mondstadtians seem to speak about the wind the way Liyuans speak about contracts or the sea. Not quite worship, not quite habit. Something in between.
In any case, I am back on the proper road and should reach Springvale before sunset. The village seems like a reasonable place to spend the night before continuing on to Mondstadt City.
With any luck, tomorrow will involve less getting lost and fewer judgmental children. Though if the child was genuinely judging me, I can't entirely blame them. I somehow got lost in a nation that appears to consist primarily of open fields and windmills.
That takes talent.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: Springvale
Name: Chen Fang
I like this small village.
Springvale isn't particularly large, but it's comfortable. The houses are well-kept, children run through the streets without a care in the world, and everyone seems to know everyone else.
The people are friendly. Almost too friendly. Within ten minutes of arriving, I'd been offered directions twice, food three times, and a place to sleep before I'd even asked if there was an inn.
One of the villagers - a woman and her... husband? I think? They never actually introduced themselves that way, but they certainly seem close enough - insisted I stay in their home for the night.
I offered to pay. They politely refused. I offered again. The husband laughed and said, "Perhaps another traveler will need your Mora more than we do."
Then he changed the subject before I could insist further.
It's... different from Liyue. Hospitality exists back home, of course, but it's usually between family, old friends, or business associates. Here, they welcomed a complete stranger as though I’m a family member that returned from a long journey. I don't know if that's normal for Mondstadt or if I've simply been lucky.
Another thing I noticed, none of the windows have shutters. Or rather, they have shutters, but they're all folded open despite the evening chill.
The front door doesn't appear to have a lock either. When I asked if they weren't worried about thieves, the woman blinked as though I had asked why birds fly.
"If someone truly needs what's inside," she said with a smile, "then perhaps they need it more than we do."
I laughed, assuming it was another local saying. Neither of them laughed with me. The husband simply nodded in agreement.
"...Besides," he added after a moment, "a lock only keeps out honest people."
I couldn't argue with that. Still, it seems rather optimistic. Or perhaps reckless. I suppose every nation has customs that seem strange to foreigners. So far, Mondstadt's greatest oddity appears to be trusting everyone.
I can't decide whether that's admirable or concerning.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: Springvale
Name: Chen Fang
I awoke this morning to the smell of fresh bread. Not unusual. What was unusual was the fact that my hosts had already left. The front door stood open. The windows remained open. Breakfast had been left on the table with a small note.
"Eat well. The wind will tell us when you've gone."
No signature. No instructions. No request to close the house before leaving. Just… that.
I ate, partly because refusing would have been rude, and partly because the bread smelled incredible. Before leaving, I looked around for the key. There wasn't one. Not hidden under a flowerpot. Not hanging beside the door. Not tucked into a drawer. Nothing.
So I did what any sensible guest would do. I closed the door behind me. It swung back open. Apparently, the latch wasn't even designed to stay shut.
I stood there for a full minute wondering if I was expected to do something. Eventually an elderly man walking by noticed my predicament.
"You look troubled," he said.
"I... don't know how to lock the house."
He looked genuinely confused.
"Why would you?"
"In case someone comes in."
He considered this very seriously before replying,
"If they come in, then they wished to."
"...To steal?"
"Perhaps."
"And you're... alright with that?"
He tilted his head.
"If they need it."
"As simple as that?"
"As simple as that."
I wasn't sure whether to admire his generosity or question his sanity. Perhaps both.
As I continued through the village, I began paying closer attention. Children wandered wherever they pleased. One little girl skipped into the woods chasing a butterfly. No one called after her. No one even looked concerned. A boy climbed onto the roof of a house. His mother saw him. She waved. He waved back. That was apparently sufficient. Another child announced that he was going fishing alone. He couldn't have been older than eight. His father smiled proudly.
"Have fun."
That was the entirety of the conversation. No warnings. No reminders. No "be home before dark." Nothing.
It occurred to me then that I had yet to hear a parent tell a child no. Not once. The children weren't unruly. Quite the opposite. They were polite, cheerful, and surprisingly considerate.
They simply… did as they pleased.
As I prepared to leave for Mondstadt City, the couple who had hosted me returned. The woman handed me a small bundle of dried meat and bread for the road. I thanked her and tried one final time to pay. She laughed softly.
"You've already given us something."
I frowned.
"I have?"
"A story."
I must have looked bewildered because she smiled wider.
"Every traveler brings one."
Before I could ask what she meant, she gently adjusted the strap of my pack.
"May the wind guide your feet."
Her husband added,
"And may it never have reason to carry you home."
I laughed politely. They didn't. For the second time since entering Mondstadt, I found myself wondering whether I'd missed the joke.
I'm beginning to suspect there isn't one.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: Mondstadt City
Name: Chen Fang
I have arrived.
If Liyue Harbor is a city built by contracts, then Mondstadt is a city built by trust. The gates stood open. Not merely unlocked. Open. The guards greeted me with smiles, asked where I had come from, welcomed me to the city, and wished me an enjoyable stay.
That was the entirety of the inspection. No examination of my belongings. No questioning beyond simple conversation. No travel permit. No declaration of goods. One of them even apologized for taking up my time.
I almost asked if they wanted to see my identification. Then I realized they had never asked my name.
The city itself is beautiful. White stone. Flower boxes beneath nearly every window. Windmills turning lazily overhead. Music drifting from somewhere I can't quite place. It feels… peaceful. Too peaceful.
I've visited enough settlements to know that every city has arguments. Someone cheats at cards. Someone drinks too much. Children fight over toys. Merchants accuse one another of dishonest scales. People shout. People complain. People hold grudges. Here...
I haven't heard a single raised voice. Not one.
I spent most of the afternoon doing what I had actually come here to do. Observing. The markets are lively, though considerably smaller than those in Liyue Harbor. Wine dominates the local economy, as expected. Apple products are everywhere. Cheese, preserved meats, ciders...
There's certainly room for imported silk, porcelain, and perhaps spices. I'll need another few days before I can draw any meaningful conclusions.
Professionally speaking, the commission has been straightforward.
Personally, Mondstadt continues to puzzle me.
Near the plaza, I witnessed what should have been an argument. A merchant had left a display of fruit unattended. A passerby picked up an apple. Looked around. Placed several Mora on the counter. Then took two apples instead. No one objected. No one even seemed to notice.
I asked another merchant if theft was uncommon here.
"Theft?" he repeated.
"The stall was unattended."
"Oh."
He smiled.
"If they paid what they believed was fair, then the matter is settled."
"And if they didn't?"
"Then they didn't."
"...Surely that happens."
"I'm sure it does."
"...Doesn't that bother you?"
He thought about it.
"Not particularly."
I waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. Instead he wished me a pleasant afternoon and returned to arranging flowers.
Later, I finally asked someone the question that had been bothering me since Springvale.
"Why doesn't anyone lock their doors?"
The woman I asked looked genuinely surprised.
"Would you cage the wind?"
"I'm talking about houses."
"So am I."
I admitted I didn't understand. She smiled - not mockingly, but patiently.
"If someone wants to enter my home badly enough to break a lock, then the lock has only delayed them."
"I suppose."
"If someone enters peacefully..."
She shrugged.
"...then I trust they'll leave peacefully."
"And if they don't?"
Her expression softened.
"Then they were never free."
I opened my mouth to ask what that meant. She had already excused herself.
This evening, I sat outside Angel's Share with a notebook, organizing my observations. A bard played nearby. He wasn't particularly remarkable. Green clothes. Braided hair. A lyre. He sang old songs while half the plaza joined in without needing to know one another. When the song ended, I heard him laugh.
"Freedom isn't about never losing something."
The surrounding crowd nodded as though he'd stated something obvious.
"It's about choosing to love it anyway."
The conversation continued naturally after that. No one questioned the statement. No one debated it. I’ve written it down anyway. It sounded important. I just don't know why.
I've begun to notice a pattern. Every answer I receive here feels complete to the person giving it. Yet every answer leaves me with more questions than before. It's as though the people of Mondstadt all share an understanding that they assume everyone else possesses.
An understanding I lack. Perhaps after a few more days, I'll finally begin to understand what they mean when they call this place the Nation of Freedom. At the moment, I suspect they're talking about something much larger than politics.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: Mondstadt City
Name: Chen Fang
Today, I witnessed something that should have been heartbreaking. Instead everyone treated it as though it were a sunny afternoon.
I had spent the morning visiting several merchants near the plaza before deciding to take a quieter route back toward the inn. That's when I noticed a small gathering outside one of the homes.
Not a crowd. Perhaps eight or nine people. Neighbors, by the look of them. There wasn't any shouting. No crying. No hurried whispers. Just conversation.
At first, I assumed it was a farewell party. A merchant leaving on a caravan, perhaps.
Then I noticed the luggage. One trunk. One backpack. A travel cloak. A man stood in the doorway, adjusting the straps on his pack while a woman helped straighten the collar of his coat. Three children waited beside her. The oldest couldn't have been older than thirteen. The youngest looked five. The man smiled.
"I think it's time."
The woman smiled back.
"I thought it might be."
She reached into his pack and tucked a loaf of bread inside.
"I packed your favorite."
"Thank you."
"I hope the road is kind."
"I'm sure it will be."
The youngest child tugged on the man's sleeve.
"Will you come back?"
The man knelt until they were eye level.
"I don't know."
The child nodded.
"...Okay."
That was all. No tears. No pleading. No promises. The man hugged each of his children. He kissed the woman on the forehead. She kissed him in return.
"I'll miss you," she said.
"I know."
"I won't ask you to stay."
"I know."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Then he left. He walked down the road without looking back. His family stood outside the house, waving until he disappeared from sight. The neighbors waved too. Someone wished him favorable winds. Someone else reminded him to write if he felt like it.
Within minutes, everyone resumed whatever they had been doing before. Children returned to playing. The neighbors dispersed. The woman gathered the empty cups from what I now realized had been a farewell tea. It was over. As though a husband hadn't just walked away from his family.
I couldn't leave it alone. I approached one of the older women who had attended the gathering.
"Excuse me," I began carefully.
"Did... something happen?"
She looked puzzled.
"What do you mean?"
"The man who just left."
"Yes?"
"...He left."
"Yes."
"...His family."
She smiled gently.
"Yes."
I waited. She waited. Finally, I asked the question directly.
"Is he coming back?"
"If the wind brings him home."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then it doesn't."
"...His wife didn't try to stop him."
The woman looked almost surprised by the suggestion.
"Why would she?"
"Because they're married."
"Yes."
"...Isn't marriage a promise?"
"It is."
"So..."
She folded her hands together, considering her answer.
"It is a promise to walk together."
I nodded.
"It is not a promise to chain one another."
Before I could respond, she continued.
"If his heart tells him to walk another road, then loving him means opening the door."
"But what about the children?"
"They know they are loved."
"Isn't that... difficult?"
"Very."
"Then why accept it?"
She looked at me with genuine kindness.
"Because love freely given cannot become love freely taken away."
I stood there for a long moment. She bowed politely and excused herself to continue her errands.
I looked back toward the house. The woman was hanging laundry. The oldest child was helping. The younger two were chasing each other around the yard, laughing. No one looked abandoned. No one looked resentful. No one even looked surprised.
It occurred to me that this conversation had likely happened long before today. Perhaps weeks ago. Perhaps months. The departure itself wasn't the shocking part. Only my reaction to it.
In Liyue, I think everyone I know would have tried to stop him. His parents. His in-laws. His neighbors. His friends. Someone would have reminded him of his obligations. Someone would have convinced him to stay. Someone would have called him selfish.
Here… No one even considered it. Not because they didn't love him. But because they did.
I am beginning to suspect that the people of Mondstadt define love very differently from the rest of Teyvat.
They do not seem to believe love gives you the right to hold on. Only the privilege of being chosen. And if one day you are no longer chosen you smile, wish them fair winds, and open the door.
I cannot decide whether that is the most beautiful philosophy I have ever encountered or the most terrifying.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: Mondstadt City
Name: Chen Fang
I've been in Mondstadt City for nearly a week now. Long enough that the guards recognize me. Long enough that a baker near the plaza waves every morning. Long enough that I no longer need a map to find my way around.
I had intended to spend today investigating local trade. Instead, I found myself people-watching. I've begun to realize that if one wishes to understand Mondstadt, one should stop asking questions and simply watch. The answers are all there. They're just... subtle.
This afternoon, I sat beside the fountain in the plaza with a notebook and watched the people passing through. An elderly woman dropped a basket of apples. Before I could stand to help, three strangers had already picked them up. None of them asked for payment. None of them even exchanged names. Once the basket was full, each simply continued on with their day.
A little later, a young man walked up to another and asked if he could borrow his horse.
The other replied, "Of course."
No questions. No conditions. No discussion of when it should be returned. The first man thanked him, mounted the horse, and rode out of the city. The owner waved. That was the end of it.
Either Mondstadtians are impossibly trusting or they possess a confidence in one another that I have never encountered before. Perhaps both.
Toward evening, I wandered into one of the smaller residential districts. A woman stood outside her home, watering flowers. A traveler approached, clearly exhausted. Their conversation was brief.
"You look tired."
"I am."
"My spare room is empty."
"Thank you."
They disappeared inside. No introductions. No negotiations. No suspicion. Had I not witnessed it myself, I would have assumed they were relatives.
Later still, I noticed something else. Children. Lots of children. Playing hide-and-seek. Running through alleys. Climbing trees.
The curious thing wasn't that they played without supervision. It was who they ran to when they fell. Not always their parents. Sometimes whichever adult happened to be closest.
A little girl scraped her knee while chasing a friend. The nearest adult - a blacksmith I'd never seen before - picked her up, dusted off her clothes, and carried her back toward the square. Several people smiled at the sight. No one seemed concerned. No one questioned it. The little girl thanked him before running off again.
It occurred to me only afterward that I never saw him ask where her parents were. He didn't need to. Someone would know. Or someone else would help. The responsibility simply... flowed from one person to another. Like water. Like wind.
There is a saying in Liyue.
"A contract binds strangers into partners."
Mondstadt appears to have no equivalent. It doesn't need one. The people behave as though they are already responsible for one another. Not because they have agreed to be. Because, in their minds, that is simply what freedom looks like.
Freedom isn't isolation here. It's trust. Complete, unquestioning trust. Enough trust to leave your doors unlocked. Enough trust to lend a horse without asking when it will return. Enough trust to let a stranger sleep beneath your roof. Enough trust to let someone you love walk away.
I still don't know if I understand it. But for the first time since arriving, I think I understand why the child looked disappointed when I got lost. To them, the wind had already shown me the road. The only reason I became lost was because I hadn't learned to trust it.
Date: X/XX/XXXX
Location: Mondstadt City
Name: Chen Fang
I've finished my time in Mondstadt. I have my recommendation for the merchant.
Don't bother setting up shop here. At least, not a permanent one.
The markets themselves are perfectly respectable. There is money to be made, certainly. Wine, apples, local crafts, imported goods... A clever merchant could make a fortune here.
The problem is the people. They're simply not interested in accumulating wealth. Not in the way we're accustomed to. They'll buy what they need. They'll sell what they have. They'll trade when it is convenient. But they don't seem particularly interested in having more.
A merchant can offer them a better price, and they'll ask whether they actually need the item. Offer them a luxury, and they'll admire it before deciding they'd rather spend the Mora elsewhere. Offer them a contract guaranteeing future profit, and they'll politely decline.
I asked one merchant why. He said, "Because then I'd have to spend my life making sure I kept it."
I thought that was absurd. Then I remembered what I've seen here. They don't seem afraid of losing things. Their homes. Their possessions. Their money. Their jobs. Their relationships. Even their futures. Everything seems to be something they are allowed to have rather than something they are expected to keep.
I have never encountered a society like this.
I asked around before leaving. Apparently this is not some recent development. It's old. Very old. One shopkeeper told me his family has been doing business the same way for generations. When I asked why they hadn't expanded, he looked confused.
"Why would we?"
"To become wealthier."
"Why?"
"To have more."
"Why?"
I didn't have an answer that satisfied him. Or myself.
I also asked about their Archon. Barbatos. The God of Freedom.
Everyone here speaks of him fondly. Some worship him. Some don't. That distinction seems almost irrelevant. They all follow the same principles. One elderly man put it best.
"Our god gave us freedom."
I asked what that meant. He smiled.
"It means he doesn't tell us what freedom is."
I laughed. He didn't.
"Nobody can," he continued. "Not completely."
"Then how do you know what he wants?"
"We don't."
"Surely that's a problem."
"No."
He looked toward the open window beside us. The curtains moved in the breeze.
"We know what we want."
I left shortly afterward.
I have spent the last several days trying to put my thoughts into something useful for the merchant. Here is the conclusion I've reached:
Mondstadt is not an untapped market. It is a terrible market.
You cannot convince these people they need something simply because you can sell it to them. You cannot bind them with contracts. You cannot make them afraid of losing what they have. You cannot convince them that they owe you. And you certainly cannot convince them that wealth is more important than freedom.
Someone will always tell you no. And everyone around them will respect that no.
Perhaps that is why the city has remained independent for so long. Perhaps that is why nobody has successfully made Mondstadt into something it doesn't want to be.
Or perhaps there is another reason.
Something I've been thinking about ever since I arrived. Everywhere else, people seem to have ideas about what their gods represent. Justice. Contracts. Knowledge. Eternity. War. Love.
Mondstadt is different. They don't seem to think Barbatos represents freedom. They seem to think Barbatos is freedom.
And somehow they believe that means they have to understand it for themselves. I don't know if I understand it. I'm not sure anyone outside Mondstadt ever could.
But I know one thing. I came here looking for something that the merchant could sell, I found a nation where the people have decided that nothing is worth selling if the price is their freedom. And I don't think any merchant in Teyvat is going to change their minds.
Recommendation: Do not establish a permanent business in Mondstadt.
Temporary trade routes may be profitable. Permanent influence will not be.
And if anyone asks me why, I'll tell them the truth.
You cannot sell something to people who don't believe they belong to you.