By: A Traveler’s Chronicle Location: Liyue Harbor Time: 19:00 – 03:00
Most people assume that when the sun dips below Liyue’s towering cliffs and the lanterns begin to float across the harbor, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor closes its dark oak doors. They imagine Director Hu Tao finally resting, surrounded by the quiet dignity of her family’s ancient craft.
They could not be more wrong.
I recently had the unique (and slightly terrifying) privilege of spending an entire evening with Hu Tao. What I expected to be a morbid vigil turned out to be the most bizarre, hilarious, and strangely philosophical night of my life. Here is what happens when you survive Night with Hu Tao.
It starts, as most bad ideas do, with a letter. The envelope is black, sealed with crimson wax shaped like a ghost, and smells faintly of burning herbs and mint. Hu Tao’s handwriting is a chaotic scrawl: “Traveler! The moon is rising, the spirits are itching, and I’ve got a brand-new ‘business expansion’ idea. Meet me at the Parlor. Don’t be late. Bring food. Bring courage. P.S. Don’t bring Zhongli—he’ll just lecture me about ‘professional decorum.’”
For the uninitiated, Hu Tao is the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. To the citizens of Liyue, she is an eccentric, beloved nuisance. To the dead, she is a friend. To the living? She is the reason you lock your doors at dusk.
By the time you arrive at the harbor, the sun has bled into the sea, leaving Liyue’s golden rooftops steeped in violet twilight. Hu Tao is waiting by the front steps, her crimson eyes glowing like dying embers. She isn’t wearing her usual hat, but her hair is tied up in those twin tails, and she’s bouncing on her heels.
“Traveler!” she shouts, waving a talisman in each hand. “Ready to see the real Liyue? The one with the howling and the floating and the existential screaming?”
You smile nervously. You should have said no.
By a humble Traveler who survived the experience
In the sprawling, breathtaking world of Teyvat, every character offers a unique lens through which to view daily life. With Zhongli, you experience the weight of history and the refinement of tea ceremonies. With Xiangling, you endure the culinary danger of exploding Slime Condensate. But to spend a night with Hu Tao? That is not merely an evening; it is a philosophical descent into the absurd, a haunted carnival ride, and perhaps the most terrifyingly fun 12 hours you will ever survive.
If you have ever wondered what it truly means to live in Liyue after dark, buckle up. Here is an unfiltered, firsthand account of a Life in Teyvat: Night with Hu Tao.
Life in Teyvat: Night with Hu Tao
The last customer had shuffled out of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor an hour ago, leaving behind the faint scent of incense and polished cedar. Liyue Harbor’s lanterns were beginning their twilight ballet, casting long amber fingers across the empty street. Most people saw night as a closing door. Hu Tao saw it as an opening act.
I found her on the back steps, leading down to the Yujing Terrace’s lower gardens. She wasn’t scheming or pranking for once. She was sitting cross-legged on the cold stone, her hat set aside, letting the autumn breeze play with her dark, twin-tailed hair. In her lap was a small, unlit paper lantern.
“You’re late,” she said without turning around. Her voice wasn’t its usual bright, teasing chirp. It was quieter. Like embers instead of a bonfire.
“The ledgers took forever,” I said, sitting down next to her. The stone bit through my clothes. “Zhongli insists on cataloging every single stick of incense by dynasty.”
She laughed—a short, soft puff of air. “That old block of granite. He means well. He just forgets that ghosts don’t care about dynasties. They care about being seen.”
She finally looked at me. In the dimming light, her crimson eyes didn’t look mischievous. They looked ancient. Tired, but in a gentle way, like a door that had been opened for too many travelers.
“Do you want to see something?” she asked.
I nodded.
She plucked a single match from her sleeve—where she kept a hundred oddities—and struck it against the step. The flare was sudden and warm, illuminating the sharp, playful angles of her face for just a second. She touched the flame to the lantern’s wick. The paper glowed from within, a soft, defiant orange against the encroaching blue of night.
“This is for the ones who walk alone,” she whispered.
She let go.
The lantern didn’t fall. It rose. It drifted upward, lazy and certain, past the rooftops, past the hanging red tassels of the inn across the street, until it became a small, wandering star. I watched it join the constellations, indistinguishable now from the real ones.
“There’s a myth,” Hu Tao said, leaning her head back against the step’s railing. “People think I like death. That I’m weird or morbid or that I’ve got a few screws loose because I sing poems to graves.”
“Don’t you?” I asked, smiling a little.
She grinned—the real Hu Tao peeking through. “Oh, absolutely. But not for the reason they think.” She turned to me, and for once, her gaze held no riddles. “I like death because it’s honest. The dead don’t lie. They don’t ghost you on purpose—well, most of them don’t.” She winked. “But the living? The living are terrified. They walk around with their own ghosts stuffed inside their chests—regret, grief, words they never said—and they call me the strange one.”
The night grew cooler. Somewhere below, a vendor was closing his stall, the clatter of wood on wood echoing up the cliffside. Hu Tao reached over and, without asking, took my hand. Her fingers were small and surprisingly cold.
“You have one too,” she said softly. “A ghost inside. I can see it. It sits behind your eyes sometimes when you think I’m not looking.”
I didn’t pull away. “Is that why you brought me out here? To exorcise it?”
“Nope.” She squeezed once, then let go. She picked up her hat, placed it back on her head, and the shadows fell across her face in that familiar, coy geometry. “I brought you out here to remind you that the night is also for the living. Come on.”
She stood up, brushed off her skirt, and offered me her hand again—this time with a full, radiant, mischievous smile.
“The ghosts can wait until morning. Right now, I know a teahouse that stays open late, and the owner makes almond tofu that’ll make you believe in reincarnation. My treat. Well,” she added, her eyes sparkling, “Wangsheng’s treat. Expense it under ‘spiritual consultation.’”
I took her hand. The stone steps were cold, her fingers were colder, but the little lantern was still climbing somewhere above Liyue, carrying its small flame into the indifferent dark.
And somehow, sitting next to the funeral director on a quiet night, the world felt a little less haunted.
“You’re impossible,” I said.
“Improbably charming,” she corrected, pulling me to my feet. “Now hurry up. The dead are patient. The tofu is not.”
We disappeared into the lantern-lit streets of Liyue, leaving only the echo of her laughter—and one small, fading light in the sky.
Life in Teyvat: A Night with Hu Tao
The stars are shining brightly in the night sky of Teyvat, casting a gentle glow over the bustling streets of Liyue. The air is filled with the sweet scent of incense and the sound of laughter, as the people of Liyue celebrate the evening with feasts and festivities.
But amidst all the joy and revelry, I find myself in the company of one of the most intriguing and enigmatic figures in Liyue - Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
As we stroll through the quiet streets, Hu Tao's signature smile gleams in the moonlight, and her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. We walk in comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft crunch of gravel beneath our feet.
"So, what brings you out tonight?" Hu Tao asks, her voice low and husky, as she gestures to the starry sky above.
"I couldn't sleep," I reply, "and I thought it would be nice to take a walk under the stars."
Hu Tao nods thoughtfully, her expression turning contemplative. "The night sky has a way of clearing the mind, doesn't it? Sometimes, I find myself lost in thought, staring up at the stars, and wondering what lies beyond our little corner of Teyvat."
As we walk, Hu Tao points out various landmarks and hidden spots in Liyue, sharing stories and anecdotes about the city's history and culture. Her passion and knowledge about the city are infectious, and I find myself captivated by her words. Life in Teyvat- Night with Hu Tao
Eventually, we find ourselves at the edge of the city, overlooking the tranquil waters of the Guyun Stone Forest. The sound of gentle lapping of the water against the shore creates a soothing melody, and the air is filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.
Hu Tao turns to me, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Want to see a secret spot, only known to a select few in Liyue?"
I nod eagerly, and Hu Tao leads me to a hidden cave behind the waterfall. Inside, the cave is filled with glittering crystals and shimmering bioluminescent plants, creating an otherworldly ambiance.
As we explore the cave, Hu Tao shares more stories about Liyue's history and mythology, her eyes sparkling with excitement. I listen, entranced, feeling as though I've stumbled into a hidden world, hidden from the rest of Teyvat.
As the night wears on, Hu Tao and I find ourselves at the entrance of the cave, gazing out at the starry sky once more.
"Thank you for showing me this side of Liyue," I say, turning to Hu Tao.
She smiles, her expression softening. "It's not often that I get to share this side of myself with others. But I suppose, sometimes, it's nice to let one's guard down, and just enjoy the beauty of the world."
As the night draws to a close, Hu Tao nods, and we part ways, the stars still shining brightly above us. I make my way back to my lodgings, feeling grateful for the unexpected adventure, and the chance to glimpse the hidden side of Hu Tao.
GUEST POST BY : [your name]
TAG US: @HuTao @Liyue @Teyvat @Traveler
FOLLOW US FOR MORE CONTENT: #LifeInTeyvat #HuTao #Liyue #Teyvat #GenshinImpact
Life in Teyvat: A Night with Hu Tao
The world of Teyvat, a land of seven nations, each with its own unique culture and history. As a traveler, it's easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of exploring this vast and beautiful world. But what happens when the sun dips below the horizon, and the stars begin to twinkle in the night sky? For those lucky enough to call Teyvat home, the night brings a different kind of magic. And for Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the night is a time of quiet contemplation and mystery.
As I stepped into the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, located in the heart of Liyue Harbor, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the sacred work that Hu Tao and her team perform. The parlor, with its elegant traditional Liyue architecture, seemed almost out of place amidst the bustling harbor. Yet, it was here that Hu Tao spent most of her evenings, preparing for the next day's ceremonies and tending to the spirits of the departed.
As I waited for Hu Tao to finish her preparations, I took a moment to observe the intricate details of the parlor. The scent of incense wafted through the air, mingling with the soft glow of lanterns that cast a warm light on the beautifully crafted wooden coffins and ancestral altars. It was a place of solemnity and respect, where the living came to bid farewell to the dead.
Finally, Hu Tao emerged from the back room, her signature smile brightening the space. "Ah, welcome to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor," she said, her voice low and soothing. "I'm afraid it's not the most... lively of places, but it's home."
As we sat down at a small table, surrounded by the quiet dignity of the parlor, Hu Tao began to share with me her thoughts on life, death, and the balance between the two. "In Liyue, we believe that death is not an end, but a transition. The spirits of the departed continue to watch over us, guiding us on our journey." Her eyes sparkled with a deep understanding, as if she had spent years pondering the mysteries of the universe.
As the night wore on, Hu Tao led me on a walk through the quiet streets of Liyue Harbor, pointing out hidden temples and shrines dedicated to the worship of various deities. We strolled past the bustling night markets, where vendors sold everything from steaming street food to exotic trinkets. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and music, a lively contrast to the more subdued atmosphere of the funeral parlor.
At one point, Hu Tao stopped in front of a small, unassuming shrine tucked away in a corner of the harbor. "This is a place of particular significance for me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's a reminder that even in death, there is beauty and tranquility to be found."
As the evening drew to a close, Hu Tao turned to me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Now, I think it's time for a little... entertainment." She produced a small, exquisitely crafted Guqin from her sleeve and began to play a haunting melody. The music seemed to weave a spell around us, transporting us to a realm beyond the mortal world.
As the last notes faded away, Hu Tao smiled at me. "The night is full of secrets and surprises, if one only takes the time to look." And with that, our evening together came to a close.
For those who call Teyvat home, the night is a time of wonder and enchantment. It's a time to connect with the spirits of the land, to honor the dead, and to find solace in the beauty of the world around us. And for Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the night is a reminder that even in death, there is life, and that the balance between the two is what makes Teyvat such a rich and vibrant world.
As I bid Hu Tao farewell and made my way back to my own lodgings, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the experience. For in a world as vast and complex as Teyvat, it's the small moments, the quiet connections, and the mysterious energies that make life truly worth living. By: A Traveler’s Chronicle Location: Liyue Harbor Time:
To spend a night with in Teyvat is to walk the thin line between a comedy club and a funeral procession . As the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor
, she is Liyue’s most eccentric paradox: a girl who spends her days pulling pranks and her nights ensuring the dead depart with absolute dignity. The Versemonger of the Darkest Alleys
When the moon rises over Liyue Harbor, Hu Tao often sheds her professional solemnity for the role of the "Alleyway Dark Poet". You might find her at the moonlit docks
or perched on a precarious mountain peak, humming her famous "Hilitune"—a playful yet slightly grim rhyme that has spread as far as Qingce Village. Her humor is an acquired taste; she’s known to make "low-key suggestions to die" while smiling, a tactic she uses to normalize the concept of mortality for the living. Guardians of the Border
A night with her isn't just about poetry. It often involves actual duty at the "Border" near Wuwang Hill , the literal line between life and death. The Ritualist
: While she may be a "troll" in daily life, during ceremonies she is immaculate and stern, following ancient rules to ensure both the living and the departed are satisfied. The Consultant
: You’ll likely cross paths with her most trusted consultant,
. Despite her constant teasing of his "old-fashioned" ways, he is the one person she relies on most to uphold the parlor’s centuries-old standards. The Philosophy of "Moment of Bloom"
Underneath the "Aiya!" and the jump-scares lies a profound philosophy: "Live in life, die in death". Hu Tao believes that it is only by respecting death that one can truly value the fleeting beauty of life. Her Pyro Vision
, earned at thirteen after a multi-day vigil at the Border for her grandfather, symbolizes this burning will to maintain the balance of Teyvat.
A night spent in her company is a reminder that in Teyvat, life is a "Moment of Bloom," and even the dark alleys of the afterlife can be full of wonder if you have the right poet to guide you. or her frequent poetry battles with
Life in Teyvat: A Night with Hu Tao
The world of Teyvat is full of mystery and adventure, and as a traveler, I've had the privilege of experiencing its many wonders. But there's something special about spending a night in Liyue, surrounded by the bustling energy of the mortal realm. And who better to share that experience with than the enigmatic and charismatic Hu Tao, Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor?
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the city of Liyue, Hu Tao and I made our way through the crowded streets. The air was alive with the smells of street food, incense, and the distant tang of the sea. We walked in comfortable silence, Hu Tao's confident stride and effortless charm drawing attention from passersby.
As we strolled, Hu Tao pointed out various landmarks and shared stories about the history and culture of Liyue. Her knowledge and passion for her work were evident in every word, and I found myself captivated by her enthusiasm. We stopped at a small temple, where Hu Tao lit a few incense sticks and offered a brief prayer. It was a small moment, but one that spoke volumes about her character and her connection to the people and places of Liyue.
Eventually, we made our way to a small, family-owned restaurant, where we indulged in a delicious dinner of traditional Liyue cuisine. The food was incredible, and Hu Tao's company made the experience even more enjoyable. We talked about everything from the intricacies of Liyue's bureaucratic system to our shared love of adventure and exploration.
As the night wore on, Hu Tao suggested we take a walk along the waterfront. The stars were out in full force, casting a twinkling glow over the city. The sound of the waves and the distant music of a lone pipa player created a magical atmosphere, and I felt grateful to be sharing it with Hu Tao.
As we walked, Hu Tao opened up about her life and work as the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. She spoke with a quiet confidence and authority, and I was struck by the depth of her compassion and empathy. Despite the often-grim nature of her work, Hu Tao radiates a sense of hope and positivity, and I found myself feeling inspired by her example.
As the night drew to a close, Hu Tao and I parted ways, and I made my way back to my lodgings. It had been an unforgettable evening, one that had given me a deeper appreciation for the city of Liyue and its people. And, of course, a deeper appreciation for the enigmatic and captivating Hu Tao.
Reflections
As I look back on that night with Hu Tao, I'm struck by the many contradictions that make her such a fascinating character. Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor by day, and yet... there's a sparkle in her eye, a hint of mischief that suggests there's so much more to her than meets the eye.
In many ways, Hu Tao embodies the spirit of Liyue itself: a city of contrasts, where tradition and innovation coexist, where life and death walk hand in hand. And as I continue on my journey through Teyvat, I know that I'll carry the memories of that night with me, and look forward to the many more adventures that lie ahead.
The Traveler's Take
If you're looking for a truly unforgettable experience in Liyue, I highly recommend seeking out Hu Tao and the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Whether you're interested in the intricacies of Liyue's culture or simply looking for a unique and memorable adventure, Hu Tao is sure to deliver.
Just be prepared for a few surprises along the way. After all, as Hu Tao herself would say, "The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is always ready to serve... but you never know when the Director might have other plans."