Undercover in Snezhnaya, My Teyvat Spy Life [38]

She’d said she was going hunting, but Eula returned instead with a few freshly caught fish.

Seeing Artem still sprawled there asleep, she shook her head in exasperation.

Then she pulled out a dagger, swiftly gutting and scaling the fish, washing them clean.

Once she’d finished, she threaded them on sticks and hung them by the fire to roast.

Every now and then, she’d turn them and sprinkle on some seasonings.

Her movements were practiced and smooth.

Clearly, this wasn’t her first time doing this.

Artem cracked open an eye, quietly watching Eula bustle around the camp. He found himself oddly captivated.

Of course, she caught him at it almost instantly.

“If you’re awake, get up already.”

Eula sat with her back to him, her voice cool as always.

“Tsk.”

“Getting sharper, aren’t you? You even caught that.”

Busted for peeking, Artem just grinned and sat up, no longer pretending to sleep.

Eula didn’t bother responding. She only said flatly, “The fish is done.”

“Oh. Great.”

Artem got up—barefoot, in nothing but his boxers—and went straight to the fire.

He picked up a skewer and crouched down, devouring the roast fish so hungrily he even crunched through the bones.

He’d burned through every scrap of strength fighting that hilichurl horde; even now, after resting, he was ravenous.

Watching him, Eula frowned. “You couldn’t at least put on some clothes?”

He shrugged at the pile of bloody, shredded fabric nearby. “Those? How am I supposed to wear them like that?”

The explosion had left his clothes in tatters—soaked in blood, reeking so badly it was nauseating.

“You mean you never bring a change of clothes?”

“Nope.”

“….”

Eula was speechless for a moment.

But this time, instead of muttering anything about vengeances, she simply pulled out a set of men’s clothes and shoes and tossed them over.

“Put these on.”

Then she went back to eating her own fish.

Artem caught the bundle, arching a brow. “You always carry men’s clothes with you?”

“None of your business.”

Shot down again, Artem just shrugged.

He didn’t try to hide, changing right in front of her before sitting down to look at her intently.

“What are you staring at?”

After a while, Eula couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious.

“Nothing,” Artem replied. “You just seem different today.”

“If this was Mondstadt,” he continued, “with the way I just acted, wouldn’t you have said something like—”

He imitated her, waggling his finger with exaggerated pomp: “‘Hmph! To show such disrespect in front of a lady—I will have vengeance!’”

Eula blushed.

Then she straightened, voice suddenly serious. “I just don’t want to be the way I was. Is that so wrong?”

“Tsk.”

“You think dropping the ‘vengeance’ talk is all it takes for Mondstadt to accept you?”

Artem laughed. “That’s naive.”

“What did you say?!”

The words hit a nerve—Eula glared daggers at him.

But Artem only smiled, utterly unbothered.

“I said you’re hopelessly, adorably naïve.”

“You really think Mondstadt’s rejection of you can be fixed just by not bringing up old grudges?”

“A thousand years of hatred—do you think a few words can erase that?”

He tapped his temple, mocking: “Use your head. If there wasn’t someone pushing this from behind, what kind of hatred would make strangers resent your family for a thousand years?”

“Hasn’t anyone in the Lawrence Clan ever thought about that?”

“Oh, and one more thing. I’m a Snezhnayan envoy. A High-Ranking Inspector in the Fatui. In terms of rank, aside from Her Majesty and the Ten Harbingers, I’m near the top of the hierarchy. So you tell me...”

“When it comes to Mondstadt—do you really know more, or do I?”

Eula’s fingers trembled; her grilled fish nearly fell from her hand.

Artem’s words hit her like a hammer.

A thousand years of hatred—what was its real cause?

She’d always believed these grudges were meaningless, that if she just worked hard enough, she could find her place in Mondstadt.

But now, someone was telling her it was all orchestrated—that the hatred would never end, no matter what she did.

So all my effort… is nothing but a cruel joke?

Artem’s words echoed through her mind, rolling over and over.

No matter how hard she tried not to, she couldn’t help but spiral into conspiracy theories.

The more she thought, the colder her heart became. All at once, she leapt to her feet, drawing her greatsword and pressing it to Artem’s throat, teeth clenched in fury.

“You said all that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“That’s it, isn’t it?”

“You want to turn me against Mondstadt?!”

“You Snezhnayan bastard!”

“I won’t let you!!!”

Artem didn’t flinch.

Even with the cold blade pressed to his neck, he calmly continued eating his fish.

They stayed locked like that for a while.

It wasn’t until he’d finished every last bite that Artem finally wiped his mouth, pointed to his neck, and said,

“Go on. Aim right here.”

“One swing—and I’ll never ‘sow discord’ again.”

He looked at her with utter confidence.

Because he knew what Eula had said when he first woke up:

Just stay here and heal.

It was obvious.

She’d realized it by now.

That he was most likely the one who’d assassinated Crepus. That Eroch was just the fall guy.

After all, with all the elemental traces left at Starsnatch Cliff, anyone with half a brain could figure out that Artem, who’d been seen at the scene, had to be the culprit.

Yet after saving him—

Eula hadn’t gone running to report him in Mondstadt.

She’d told him to rest and recover.

She hadn’t tried to send him to the Church of Favonius for healing, either.

Which would keep his identity hidden from the Knights.

She was going out of her way to protect him—the assassin.

Sure enough...

After a long, tense standoff, Eula’s face fell. She let her greatsword drop, then sank to the ground, curling in on herself, head buried in her knees.

Her shoulders shook, the very picture of misery.

This time, Artem didn’t tease her. He sat quietly at her side, giving her shoulder a gentle pat.

“If you want to cry, just cry.”

The words seemed to break a dam.

Eula could hold it in no longer—she sobbed uncontrollably.

All the pressure and blame she’d carried since childhood.

The senseless hatred between Mondstadt and her family.

The frustration of never being accepted, no matter how hard she tried.

The pain of being shunned, insulted, despised.

It all crashed down at once, crushing the proud knight.

Artem stayed there beside her, neither trying to comfort her nor taking advantage—just quietly keeping her company.

She’d tried so hard.

Done so much.

All for the hope of fitting in with Mondstadt.

But now, from someone who truly knew, she’d heard it was all for nothing.

That brutal truth could break anyone.

It was a long time before Eula lifted her head, hiccuping with tears.

Her face was streaked with them, looking so heartbreakingly vulnerable that Artem wanted to say something to comfort her.

But before he could, Eula spoke first:

“Why did you tell me all this?”

“Why?”

“You know how hard I’ve tried to let go of the past, to forge my own path— Do you know how much effort I’ve put in?! I know people hate me! I know they’re annoyed by me! I know they’re afraid of me! But I still want to belong in Mondstadt. I still want to break the stereotype about the Lawrences.”

“So why?”

“Why did you have to shatter my dream?!”

She grabbed his collar, her cries raw and desperate.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling like pearls to the ground.

Artem wiped them gently away, his heart aching for her.

Then, drawing her into his arms, he whispered, “Because I care about you.”

“I don’t want to see you left in the dark, treated as a joke for everyone’s amusement.”

At his words, Eula’s tears started all over again.

She collapsed against Artem’s chest, pounding her fists and sobbing.

“Why—why did you have to be from Snezhnaya?!”

“There’s no way for us… not a chance!”

And as she wept...

Her Vision...

Slowly lost its light.

---

T/N: AHHH THE ANGST ITS TOO SOON :SOB: NOOOO EULA

This is a fan translation of 提瓦特之我在至冬做臥底 by 曉風殘月聽荷 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!