Writing Light Novels in Teyvat

What is the most important thing to a scholar? If this question were put to any scholar in the Akademiya, they might give completely different answers. For example: A scholar should, of course, pursue the truth. Or perhaps becoming a scholar is a way to enter the Akademiya's administrative system and become a high-ranking official. Or maybe it is simply a means of securing a good job after graduation— But for Fushta... First of all, just let her graduate!! Fushta had just walked out of her mentor Meneto's office with her thesis in hand, her mind repeatedly replaying everything her mentor had done before. Her mentor had taken off his glasses, found a piece of soft cloth, and carefully wiped them. All the while, he kept taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Finally, he had said, "This thesis poses absolutely no threat to my position in academia, but it will completely ruin my reputation in education." After her initial confusion, Fushta panicked. "Teacher, if there's something wrong with it, I can revise it." Meneto, a professor of the Vahumana school, put his glasses back on and examined the thesis carefully once more. In the end, he said heavily, "Forget it. This is already the third time. I'll apply for an extension of your studies. This thesis ends here." And Fushta was kicked out. Outside, dusk had already settled over the city, bleak and desolate. Holding her thesis, Fushta went to Lambad's Tavern and drank herself senseless. Unfortunately, the bitterness of her emotions had overwhelmed her to the point where she could barely speak. During the investigation, she had personally made rubbings and copied inscriptions from desert ruins together with her fellow Vahumana students. Why had they received good news while she had failed again? Was she really that useless? Was she truly incapable of accomplishing anything? Fushta was on the verge of tears. After one cup of Sweet Madame's Rosé, everything in front of her began to split into doubles. After the sadness came anger. She didn't even know where the anger came from, but it puffed out her cheeks until they looked like those of a round little pufferfish. She sat in her seat with her arms folded, saying nothing, pondering inefficiently over where exactly the problem had arisen. A person wearing a cloak quietly appeared in front of Fushta. Just as she was staring blankly, the person across from her spoke first. "I've heard of you." Fushta slowly let out an "Ah," while a question gradually surfaced in her mind: Who is this? Ayadva seemed to see the confusion in her eyes. Lowering his voice, he said, "I've read your work. I've read it several times. It's a masterpiece that will astound the world!" Fushta froze for a second. Her drunken haze prevented her from wondering how this mysterious person had managed to read her research. Instead, his support and admiration had already reached her brain first. A masterpiece that would astound the world! That was a little too exaggerated... But then again, maybe it wasn't impossible? "The logic is clear, the prose is beautiful, and every piece of evidence and every description proving the existence of the love between King Deshret and the Goddess of Flowers is perfectly placed. It's practically flawless. The Akademiya should have awarded you a degree long ago!" Ayadva's aged eyes were filled with anticipation as he gazed upon a rising star of light novels. Fushta instantly became excited. "You're right! The Akademiya should have given me my degree long ago!" She nearly slammed her hand on the table, tears welling up in her eyes. At last, someone understood her! Her demands really weren't that high. She simply wanted to graduate! She had no grand ambitions. She had merely heard that the Akademiya was the finest institution in Sumeru, so she had enrolled in Vahumana because she thought graduating from there would make it easier to find a job. Who could have known graduating would be this difficult? Ayadva sighed sympathetically. "I think so too." He was already preparing to establish a light novel society—the predecessor of what would eventually become a Darshan. Naturally, such a Darshan would have degrees and academic titles such as Pāsāra (graduate student) and Kopāra (professor). Unfortunately, the light novel society currently consisted of only him. If Fushta joined, there would be two members. Clearly, he had failed to realize that Fushta had misheard "society" as "degree," resulting in the two of them having a completely different conversation. The two of them chatted happily for quite some time. Fushta casually took out her thesis, a thick stack of paper. The Akasha Terminal of Sumeru was extremely convenient. Scholars could submit their papers to their mentors online, but graduation theses still had to be submitted in physical form. Fushta had brought two copies with her when she visited her mentor that day. Ayadva began reading it on the spot and enthusiastically ordered another cup of Sweet Madame's Rosé for Fushta. Seeing someone appreciate her work, Fushta began to feel rather pleased with herself. She raised her glass. Purple Sumeru Roses floated atop the golden liquor, drawing her into the rich, intoxicating fragrance of the fruit wine. Ayadva continued saying things like, "This will definitely get published! I certainly won't let your masterpiece down." Fushta could no longer remember what he said afterward. She merely mumbled, "Okay, okay. Fine." Her research funds had just run out, after all. If an academic journal accepted her paper and paid her a publishing fee, that would be wonderful. That was what Fushta thought as she fell asleep sprawled across one of the tavern's long tables. The tavern was open twenty-four hours a day, and Fushta spent nearly the entire night lying on that table. She was hardly the only customer sleeping off their drunkenness there. Besides, she was wearing Akademiya scholar robes. Even though her behavior was no different from that of an ordinary drunkard, the tavern staff didn't disturb her. They even draped a blanket over her. It wasn't until early the next morning that they woke her. Fushta panicked when she realized she had spent the night in the tavern. After checking that none of her belongings were missing, she thanked the Liyue girl working there, returned the blanket, and hurried away. Her face burned with embarrassment. How had she actually ended up sleeping in someone else's tavern for an entire night? But there were only a few Mora in her pocket. She couldn't even afford a proper inn. At least spending the night in a tavern was better than sleeping on the street. Fushta sighed deeply and smoothed out the fresh wrinkles in her scholar's robe caused by curling up all night. She now had two major problems. One: she had no money. Two: her thesis had failed again. What a headache. Thinking of this, Fushta hurriedly searched through the thesis papers in her shoulder bag. The sheets were loose and disorganized. She pulled them out while anxiously muttering, "Why is there only one copy? Where did I put the other one?" "...Forget it. At least I still have one." Dejectedly, Fushta put the thesis back into her bag. A thesis that couldn't pass was essentially worthless academically. Besides, she had already sent it to her mentor through the Akasha Terminal. It wasn't as though someone else could simply plagiarize it. She noticed the emerald-green Vision lying at the bottom of her bag and naturally ignored it. She still needed to figure out what to do next. Fushta's brain was already a complete mess. Before she could figure anything out about her thesis, her stomach began growling. She hadn't eaten a single thing since last night. The aromas of breakfast drifting from the roadside were especially tempting. She was at the docks, where the nearby food stalls all favored heavy oil, salt, and spices—the most primal and irresistible kind of food aroma. She was so hungry that she could only touch her chin and wipe away the drool. Gathering her courage, she walked toward a food stall. "Hello... I'd like half a pita pocket, please." Fushta tried her best to sound less awkward. Seeing that an Akademiya scholar had come to buy a pita pocket, the vendor became extremely enthusiastic, his tone unconsciously turning flattering. "By the Dendro Archon! Esteemed Scholar, are you sure you want half a pocket? I've never heard of anyone buying half of one..." Pita pockets were made by stuffing fresh flatbread with meat and vegetables. They were convenient, nutritious, and cheap. Everyone normally bought a whole one. Besides, if he really sold half to a scholar, who would buy the remaining half? Yet the vendor didn't even consider that the pink-haired girl might simply be out of money. After all, how could a scholar possibly be poor? The Akademiya was not only Sumeru's highest institution of learning; it was also a government organization. Some scholars devoted themselves entirely to academic research, while others served as government officials, governing Sumeru beneath the light of the Dendro Archon. Fushta was so embarrassed that her face felt like it was burning. But this was all the money she had. "I'm sorry!" She wondered whether she should simply leave. But the aroma of food kept tempting her. Then another voice came from beside her. "Uh... then I'll take the other half." Kaveh spoke up. The vendor, who had been anxiously trying to figure out what to do, looked as though he had been rescued. "Master Architect Kaveh?!" Fushta turned around and saw a young man with golden hair and red eyes, a pale-blue feather ornament tucked into his hair. Kaveh immediately said, "No need to be so formal. Just call me Kaveh. I happen to want only half a pocket too. This scholar and I can split one, so you can just sell us the whole thing." The vendor hurriedly waved his hands. "You helped drive away those troublesome fungi a while back. I don't want your money." "How can I let you do that? You got up early and worked hard to run this stall," Kaveh protested. The two went back and forth several times. Fushta swallowed, her eyes practically glued to the pita pockets on the stall. When she heard Kaveh refusing the free half, complicated emotions welled up inside her. In the end, the vendor still sold them a whole pita pocket. Fushta decisively handed over half the money. There was an especially generous amount of meat and vegetables inside, almost enough for two pockets, bulging the bread into a round shape. The natural aroma of meat fried in its own fat filled the air. Red and green strips of peppers added a fresh sweetness rather than heat. Then came the sauce, mixed with Jueyun Chili and various spices from Liyue. Its distinct yet perfectly blended layers of flavor launched a full assault on Fushta's taste buds. Fushta could only think how incredibly lucky she was. Today, she had encountered such a generous vendor—and, at exactly the right moment, Kaveh, who happened to have a history with the vendor and had agreed to split the pocket with her. In other words, she had paid half the price and ended up eating what was practically a whole pita pocket. After saying goodbye to the vendor, the two walked along the waterside, each holding half the pocket and devouring it. After a few bites had satisfied her initial hunger, Fushta finally remembered what the vendor had called the man beside her. Kaveh. She had heard that name before. He was a famous architect who had recently made a name for himself in Sumeru. He had designed the magnificent palace of Lord Sangemah Bay, the richest man in Sumeru. The palace was breathtakingly magnificent, and the Akademiya's Kshahrewar school of architecture and mechanical engineering regarded it as the pinnacle of modern Sumeru architecture. What made the story even more legendary was that the palace had been tainted by a Withering Zone during construction, yet it had somehow been completed like a miracle. Fushta looked at him a few more times. Seeing the Dendro Vision hanging beside his thigh, she felt that perhaps it wasn't impossible for him to have fought against the Withering. She had also heard that he was an Akademiya graduate, once a student of Kshahrewar. After graduation, he had indeed achieved great success. But someone who looked like such a successful architect didn't seem like the type to be short on money. Why had he agreed to split a single pita pocket with her? Fushta covered her mouth and let out a satisfied burp. That half-pocket had been far more filling than expected. Kaveh likewise let out a long breath. Only after eating his fill did he finally have the leisure to carefully observe the scholar who had shared a pocket with him. And he couldn't help feeling puzzled. Why was an Akademiya scholar so poor that she could only afford half a pita pocket?