In Game Description
A letter left by a young adventurer. There is a slightly bitter scent of Qingxin on this piece of paper
Content
To the exploration team:
I am sincerely sorry for leaving on such short notice. I’m grateful for your help along the way, but it’s a pity that I can’t keep working together with you.
Jinwu, please don’t feel upset about my departure. I trust that among all the unbecoming and foolhardy young adventurers that you’ve looked after, I’m but one hopeless fool. I hope that I haven’t been a big headache for you and that although I’ve left, I’ve left you with all good memories. If I ever had any family, you’d be the one dearest to me… There are so many stories that I haven’t yet had time to share with you. All I can do is leave some half-finished names on the map. It’s a shame that it was done in a haphazard fashion and I didn’t get to carry out much background research or fine-tune the wording. I regret not being able to come up with better-sounding names for you and the others. Anyway, thank you for taking care of me, but I prefer adventuring alone to being looked after by my seniors.
Mr. Khedive, please forgive my willfulness. I understand that you have your concerns. Maybe it’s just like you said — the secrets hidden in the depths of The Chasm are beyond mere mortals. Maybe that’s the reason why the exploration took a toll on me, as I am not blessed with a Vision… But still, I can’t help wondering if those famed adventurers like Leonard, Stanley, and Roald have ever witnessed the same marvel as I — the stone halls of old crawling into the darkness, the dark-purple mud gushing out like lava, the translucent, azure crystals floating in the air, the damaged stone tablets carved with maps of ancient places, and so many other indescribable wonders… Would those great adventurers have backed out for fear of danger, or would they have acted as recklessly as I, persisting in pursuing the inscrutable secrets of the world — even at the price of their common and less-dignified lives? Mr. Khedive, as a scholar, and also a mere mortal like me, what would your choice be in such a circumstance?
Clitopho, please accept my apology for my previous distrust and willfulness. I don’t have it in for you — despite your annoyingly sneaky ways, Treasure Hoarder background, impoliteness to Jinwu, lack of hygiene awareness when making drinks, complete disregard to the safety regulations of the Ministry, and reluctance to heed our warnings no matter the scenario… In spite of all your faults, I don’t think they really matter to me. As your friend, I regret not being able to meet you earlier.
Muning, I’m sorry, but I won’t be reporting in at my post. Thank you for all your efforts in helping me land a job in the Ministry. Without you, I would have been thrown out of The Chasm the moment I entered it. Maybe the official offer from the Ministry will arrive after my departure. Please keep it for me. I will treat you to dinner if I ever come back, and don’t you forget it!
Traveler, thank you for everything on this trip. You gave me good advice and came to my rescue. For that, I’m forever grateful. It’s a shame that I don’t know how I can repay you. As someone blessed by the gods, you’re bestowed with elemental powers that will aid you in your adventures. Although I might never know the answer, I still wonder how you regard us mere mortals?
In ancient times when heroes and Yakshas fought alongside Rex Lapis, when colossal boulders were halved to form the mountains, when giant rocks were cast from the skies to create seabeds, what was the place of the mere mortals like us — whom the gods had neither noticed nor recognized? What are our mundane loves and hatreds, mundane happiness and tragedies, mundane achievements and accomplishments, mundane bonds and relationships… Are all these just something of no consequence in the eyes of the gods? Are ancient dwellings of the gods and those unfathomable scenes really far beyond the reach of commonplace human courage?
It may seem disrespectful to ask these questions when Rex Lapis has only just left us… But when compared with the chosen ones who have gained the gods’ blessings by chance, what are we mere mortals unnoticed by the gods to make of ourselves? We’ve also obtained dreams by chance, and we keep pursuing them throughout our busy, bustling lives… We don’t want to be forgotten, and for that we strive hard to make even the slightest difference, or hang tough through laborious work every day with the courage of an ordinary human… Are all these acts of no meaning? Think of those herb gatherers who dangle from the top of the cliffs, miners who work day in and day out despite the potential threat of earthquakes, and workers who drive every nail into a giant ship multiple floors in height… If their hard work is dismissed as mundane and unworthy of remembrance, I can’t help but question the gods’ logic to favor some of our wishes and dignities over others.
With such questions in mind, I follow you into the uncertainty and danger in the depths of The Chasm, pushing my limit as a mere mortal. I wouldn’t say that I’ve “conquered” or “explored” the area, but I hope that I can at least put The Chasm into the map that I drew and edited. I want to mark the places that I’ve been to and the varying sceneries in The Chasm with names that belong to mortals, names that belong to me. For lack of a smarter solution, I believe that this is the only way to inspire those who come after me. I want to tell them how far someone who was not chosen by the gods can go and what stories she may leave behind.
Please worry not for me. My journey has only just begun. Once I’m done taking a breather, I will march deeper in. Thank you for helping me clear the path ahead. I will continue venturing into the depths of The Chasm until my strength fails me. Good luck, my fellow teammates. I hope that we shall meet again on our journeys in the near future.
How to Get Zhiqiong Letter?
You can find Zhiqiong letter outside a small camp in last ruin where Celestia Pillar resides after completing Valor’s Afterglow: The Faint Light Remembered.
