But contrary to Jean's expectations—
Yichen's work efficiency was so high it was downright inhuman.
His hands moved at an astonishing pace.
Documents were flipped, categorized, cross-checked, stamped, annotated, and archived in one seamless flow—smooth, precise, flawless.
Not only was he fast—
The quality was terrifyingly good.
Everything was filed with crystal-clear logic, labels concise and intuitive. Even his handwriting looked like printed text (despite his claim that he was "just scribbling casually"). He even took the time to use a quill to mark several vague statements and internal contradictions in the reports.
Before noon arrived—
The half-person-tall mountain of paperwork was gone.
In its place stood perfectly ordered file cabinets, pristine and professional.
Jean couldn't help but look up several times.
Each time, she saw only Yichen's focused profile—completely absorbed, undistracted, fully immersed in work.
This man…
Was he actually the both-brains-and-brawn type?
Jean was genuinely surprised.
Someone capable of unleashing those utterly unhinged elbow techniques…
And yet able to calmly and efficiently handle administrative work like this?
The contrast was absurd.
Had he really worked three jobs a day to develop such skills?
Her impression of her new assistant grew even more complicated—but above all, she felt relieved.
At least in terms of competence—
He was unquestionably top-tier.
When the clock finally struck noon and the sunlight grew brighter, Yichen placed the final document into the archive.
He stood up briskly and rolled his slightly stiff shoulders.
"Grand Master Jean, it's lunchtime. What would you like to eat? I'll go to Good Hunter and bring it back."
Jean looked up from a new report, surprised both by how quickly time had passed—and by Yichen's natural, considerate suggestion.
She thought for a moment. She really was hungry.
"Thank you. A simple carrot-and-meat sauté will be fine. I'll reimburse you later."
"Got it."
Yichen nodded and turned to leave.
But just as one foot crossed the office threshold—
He suddenly stopped, as if realizing he'd forgotten an important procedural step.
He turned back.
In an instant, the efficient assistant persona vanished.
Replaced by the now-familiar, standardized 'deep affection' smile, voice tuned to gentle sincerity:
"I like you, Grand Master Jean."
Jean: "..."
At this point, she didn't even have the energy to care how perfunctory and automated the confession sounded.
After a morning of extreme productivity, she almost felt that—compared to his work efficiency—this level of "harassment" was… negligible?
Without lifting her head, eyes still on the file, she replied at maximum speed and minimum emotion, like commenting on the weather:
"Sorry. I refuse."
Yichen's affection meter instantly reset to zero.
Without hesitation, he turned and left—clean, decisive, no lingering.
He even gently closed the door behind him.
Silence returned to the office, broken only by the soft scratch of a quill on paper.
Jean held her reviewing posture for several seconds before finally lifting her head, staring vaguely at the closed door.
She raised a hand and pressed her temple lightly.
This new assistant…
Work efficiency: terrifying.
Behavior pattern: equally terrifying.
When extreme reliability and extreme absurdity coexist in one person…
Jean felt like her brain's CPU was overheating.
She sighed softly and decided not to dwell on it, returning to her work.
At least lunch was taken care of.
And today's document processing speed was nothing short of legendary.
Though she couldn't help wondering—
What would the afternoon bring?
And what form would the next confession take?
She found herself… unconsciously anticipating it.
At noon, sunlight spilled warmly through the windows.
In the rare calm of lunch break, Yichen and Jean sat at their respective desks, quietly eating the meals brought back from Good Hunter.
The air was filled with the aroma of food and a fleeting sense of peace.
Yichen finished his steak in record time. Watching Jean across from him—eating her carrot sauté in small bites, fatigue still lingering between her brows—he suddenly spoke:
"Grand Master Jean… why do people bring even things like
'my cat climbed a tree and won't come down' or
'I suspect my neighbor stole my Sweet Flower'
straight to the Knights' headquarters?"
"Wouldn't it be faster to just post a commission at the Adventurers' Guild?"
"From an efficiency standpoint, this is a complete loss."
Jean set down her fork and gently wiped her lips.
She wasn't offended by the bluntness—only resigned.
"You're right, Assistant Yichen."
Her voice remained calm, but beneath it lay deep exhaustion.
"From an efficiency and resource-allocation perspective, it's unreasonable. The Knights' manpower should be focused on major threats—monster suppression, serious security incidents."
She paused, gaze drifting toward the window.
"But… Mondstadt is the City of Freedom. And that freedom also means looseness—dependence."
"People are used to bringing everything, big or small, to the Knights of Favonius. To… 'Grand Master Jean.'"
"Sometimes, they don't just want a solution. They want reassurance—a promise, spoken directly by me."
"Only when I nod, when I personally guarantee it, do they truly feel at ease."
"That unconditional trust… is the meaning of the Knights' existence. And my responsibility as Grand Master."
She trailed off, the weight of endless trivialities and impossible expectations hanging heavy in the air.
"You've already got dark circles, you know."
Yichen spoke gently, eyes landing beneath her eyelids where faint shadows had formed.
"If this continues, efficiency will drop and your health will suffer. If the Grand Master of the City of Freedom collapses from exhaustion, that would be a real crisis."
"Ah… really?"
Jean instinctively touched her eyes, momentarily embarrassed before sighing again.
"But… there's no choice. Tradition, expectations…"
Yichen glanced at her tired expression, then toward the city beyond the window—citizens likely already heading this way with yet more minor troubles.
His dark eyes spun.
A solution—one that might fix the problem at its root—took shape instantly.
"I'll step out for a moment, Grand Master. I'll be right back!"
Before Jean could respond, he was already gone, moving like a gust of wind.
Afternoon — Mondstadt Adventurers' Guild
Yichen strode straight inside, eyes locking immediately onto the towering, loud-voiced Guild Master of Mondstadt Branch—
Cyrus.
Cyrus was mid-boast behind the counter, regaling adventurers with tales of his past heroics.
Yichen walked right up and cut him off.
"Guild Master Cyrus! I've got a big business deal to discuss!"
Cyrus frowned at the interruption—but the words big business lit his eyes instantly.
He sized up the handsome but unfamiliar young man skeptically.
"Business? What kind? Kid, Adventurers' Guild commissions don't come cheap."
Yichen smiled confidently and leaned in, lowering his voice.
"A long-term, stable, massive exclusive subcontract."
"One that boosts your guild's workload, fills your coffers, and earns you goodwill with the Knights of Favonius."
"Exclusive subcontract?"
Cyrus frowned, interest piqued.
"Explain. Who's subcontracting what?"
Yichen's smile widened. He cleared his throat and dropped the bomb:
"Party A: Knights of Favonius."
"Party B: Mondstadt Adventurers' Guild."
"Subcontract content: All non-urgent, non-classified, non-monster-related daily assistance requests that would normally land on the Grand Master's desk."
"Including—but not limited to: finding cats, finding dogs, delivering letters, mediating neighbor disputes, investigating petty theft, helping elders move furniture—even counseling heartbroken youths."
With every item, Cyrus's eyes grew wider.
"The Knights will screen and classify these requests, then batch-transfer them to you at a discounted rate under the name of
'Knights of Favonius Special Recommendation.'"
"You complete them efficiently. You earn Mora and reputation."
"And the Knights—especially Grand Master Jean—are freed from endless trivialities to focus on real priorities."
Yichen clapped his hands together.
"Boom. Perfect."
"Citizens get solutions. Your guild explodes with commissions. Our Grand Master gets breathing room."
"This is called professional division of labor."
"Welcome to modern governance in Teyvat."
Cyrus stood frozen, mouth hanging open.
Outsourcing civilian requests from the Knights… in bulk… to the Adventurers' Guild?
At a discount?!
This was insane.
Unheard of.
But—
Low individual pay, massive volume.
Plus the Knights' endorsement?
Guild prestige would skyrocket.
"…You kid…"
Cyrus stared at Yichen like he was either mad—or brilliant.
"Is this for real? Did Grand Master Jean agree to this?"
"Details can be negotiated!"
Yichen waved a hand casually.
"What matters is—Guild Master Cyrus—do you want Mondstadt's Adventurers' Guild to crush Liyue and Inazuma in influence?"
"Do you want to count Mora until your hands cramp?"