When Yichen heard Eula's ice-cold, barbed comparison, he froze for a moment—clearly not processing where this sudden competition was even coming from.
He blinked, looking genuinely puzzled. Then, as if he had conducted an extremely rigorous internal analysis, he shook his head vigorously.
"That… that's not how you should put it."
He set his wine glass down, his expression turning unusually serious.
"They're each good in their own way."
He completely failed to notice Eula's gaze growing even colder—or the murderous aura practically solidifying around her. Instead, he started counting on his fingers, analyzing things with painful sincerity.
"Look—Grand Master Jean is diligent, responsible, very tolerant, and extremely reasonable…"
He listed Jean's virtues, then smoothly changed gears.
"But at the same time, she pushes herself too hard. She's always on the verge of working herself into the ground. Her dark circles are almost bigger than her eyes—it's honestly worrying."
Then he turned to Eula, his eyes filled with pure, unfiltered sincerity.
"And you, Eula—you're amazing with a sword, meticulous on patrol, independent, strong, and also…"
He hesitated, searching for the right word.
"…your grudge-holding is actually pretty distinctive. Very memorable."
He paused again, clearly trying to find a more positive phrasing, before adding:
"It's just… sometimes you hit a bit too hard, and your temper is kind of hard to predict. You're always talking about vengeance…"
He spread his hands, concluding as if delivering a perfectly impartial verdict.
"So yeah. Everyone has their strengths, and everyone has their headaches. You really can't just say who's better."
After finishing, he nodded to himself, clearly convinced this analysis was both fair and brilliant. He even picked up his glass again and took a happy sip—
Completely unaware that he had just danced an entire tap routine on the edge of the death line.
"So objective, are we, Yichen~?"
A slightly tipsy, breezy voice suddenly slipped into the conversation.
The bard Venti had somehow appeared at their table, wine glass in hand, swaying slightly. He plopped himself down into the empty seat beside Yichen as if he belonged there.
His cheeks were flushed, eyes hazy—he had clearly been drinking for a while.
Venti nudged Yichen with his elbow, putting on a "let me teach you" expression, and lowered his voice—
Just loud enough for Eula to hear.
"In situations like this, the standard answer is obviously—'Miss Eula is better'! No hesitation! Honestly, was your emotional intelligence eaten by a slime?"
That comment was like reconnecting a severed wire in Yichen's brain.
He suddenly went, "Oh—!" and nodded vigorously, convinced Venti was absolutely right. After all, bards were experts in human relationships!
Yichen immediately turned to Eula, whose face was still icy, and looked at her with utmost sincerity.
"That's right! Venti's right!"
"Eula—you're better!"
Apparently thinking words alone weren't enough, he nodded hard again and delivered what he believed to be his strongest possible affirmation:
"Because—you're my only friend!"
"And I treasure you. Really, really treasure you!"
The air froze.
Eula's tightly clenched jaw—so tense it seemed ready to grow icicles—relaxed just a fraction when she heard the words "only friend" and "treasure."
The raging jealousy and fury were diluted slightly by a clumsy, unexpected warmth.
"Friend" still stabbed her ears.
But the weight carried by "only" and "treasure" temporarily overpowered the sting.
She let out a cold snort and turned her head away, no longer glaring at Yichen like she was about to kill him.
The suffocating pressure around her eased noticeably.
Venti, watching from the side, covered his mouth and snickered, shoulders shaking.
He leaned close to Yichen's ear and whispered breezily:
"Oh my… 'only friend'… Yichen, did that save the situation… or did you just dig a deeper hole? Hic."
He even punctuated it with a drunken hiccup.
Yichen, of course, completely failed to grasp the warning.
Seeing that Eula seemed less angry—and had even tacitly allowed him to share the table—his mood improved greatly.
He cheerfully raised his glass again.
"Come on, Eula, don't just sit there! Let's drink together!"
"Let's celebrate… our solid friendship!"
He deliberately emphasized the word "friendship," as if to prove both his sincerity and his innocence.
Eula's body stiffened.
Heh… perfect.
She'd been wondering how to pry open this blockhead's mouth and finally figure out whether the "I like you" he tossed at Jean so casually, or the "I treasure you" he said to her so seriously—was his real damn truth.
Her voice remained cool as she raised her hand and snapped her fingers toward the bar, drawing Diluc's attention (despite the fact that he clearly didn't want it).
"Mr. Diluc," she said loudly, her voice cutting cleanly through the tavern's noise,
"Ten glasses of Death in the Afternoon."
"Pff—cough cough!"
Venti nearly sprayed his apple wine, staring at Eula, then at Yichen—who was clearly about to meet disaster—with unrestrained excitement written all over his face.
The tavern fell briefly silent.
Several adventurers turned to stare.
Death in the Afternoon was one of Angel's Share's strongest, most lethal signature drinks.
Ten glasses at once?
What was this, a funeral?
Yichen froze for a moment—then broke into a radiant "I get it" smile.
Eula was really passionate!
Ordering something this intense just to celebrate their friendship!
How could he back down?
After all, in all of Mondstadt, the only person who truly qualified as his friend was Eula.
Kaeya was a mutual-roasting, elbow-strike-worthy bro.
Jean was a respected leader he needed to serve efficiently.
Other knights were colleagues.
As for Venti… probably a randomly spawning NPC that provided background music and chaos.
Only Eula was someone he'd had a hundred deep interactions with—fights, grudges, elbows, and… reconciliation (?).
This friendship deserved the strongest drink!
"No problem!"
Yichen slapped the table heroically and called out to Diluc:
"Ten glasses of Death in the Afternoon! Put it on my tab!"
Diluc began mixing without expression—but when he looked at Yichen, there was something subtly different in his eyes.
Pity.
Like watching a brave soul march toward certain doom.
Soon, ten deep-colored glasses radiating dangerous allure were lined up on the table.
Eula picked one up first and gestured slightly toward Yichen.
"To… 'friendship.'"
She tilted her head back and drank half the glass in one go.
Yichen, fired up by her spirit, grabbed one immediately.
"To friendship!"
He downed it in one gulp.
The alcohol burned like a fuse igniting straight down his throat, the brutal aftershock exploding upward.
His face turned bright red instantly, and he coughed twice.
"Haha! That's strong!"
He forced a thumbs-up, refusing to lose face in front of his "friend."
Eula's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
She calmly reached for the second glass.
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