A night spent with Hu Tao is never just a "quiet evening"—it’s a whirlwind of paradoxes, shifting between eerie ghost stories and a surprisingly profound appreciation for life. As the sun dips below the mountains of Liyue, the atmosphere around the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor changes. While most of the Harbor prepares for sleep, Hu Tao is just getting started. The Ambience: Lanterns and Shadows The evening usually begins with a stroll through the Chihu Rock. Hu Tao doesn’t walk so much as she skips, her wooden talismans clicking rhythmically against her hat. She’ll likely drag you to a street food stall for some Boiled Fish , chatting animatedly about her latest "Buy One, Get One Free" promotion—much to the visible discomfort of the nearby patrons. The Activity: "Poetry" in the Woods By midnight, you’ll likely find yourselves at Wuwang Hill. This is her playground. The Pranks: Don’t be surprised if she vanishes into the mist, only to reappear behind you with a "Boo!" and a giggle that echoes a bit too perfectly. The Philosophy: Between the jumpscares, the tone shifts. Sitting by a blue-flamed campfire, she might recite a poem. While her rhymes are often silly, they carry a weight of truth about the "border" between life and death. She views the night not as a time to fear, but as the natural conclusion to a day well-spent. The Quiet End As the first light of dawn touches the peak of Mt. Tianheng, the high energy fades. Hu Tao becomes uncharacteristically still, watching the spirits retreat and the living world wake up. She might offer a small, sincere smile—one that isn't part of a sales pitch—thanking you for "balancing the yin and yang" of her night. To help me capture the right "vibe" for this text, tell me: Should the tone be spooky and mischievous or sentimental and cozy ? Is there a specific location in Liyue you want the night to focus on?
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
The stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across the velvet expanse of the night sky in Teyvat. The moon, a glowing crescent, cast a silver glow over the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor. It was a night like any other in this vibrant city, with merchants and travelers from all corners of the world hurrying to and fro. Yet, amidst this ordinary backdrop, a sense of unease settled over one particular individual - Hu Tao, the enigmatic and formidable Funeral Parlor Director. Hu Tao strolled through the crowded streets with an air of mystery, her long black hair flowing behind her like a dark ribbon. Her eyes, gleaming with an otherworldly intensity, seemed to hold a world of secrets and untold stories. As she walked, the people around her couldn't help but feel a shiver run down their spines. It was as if the very presence of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's director commanded respect and inspired whispers. As she navigated through the winding alleys, Hu Tao's thoughts drifted to the day's events. A particularly trying funeral had left her feeling drained, the weight of her responsibilities as a psychopomp bearing down on her. Her duties, after all, went far beyond merely guiding souls to the afterlife. She walked a fine line between the world of the living and the realm of the dead, often mediating disputes and unraveling mysteries that tied the two together. Eventually, Hu Tao found herself standing before a quaint tea house, its lanterns casting a warm glow into the night air. The sign above the door read "Wenxian Tea House," and the enticing aroma of Jasmine tea wafted out, drawing her in. It was a place she visited often, not merely for the exquisite tea but for the refuge it offered from her demanding duties. Inside, the tea house was alive with the gentle hum of conversation and the soft clinking of tea cups. Hu Tao was greeted by the owner, an elderly woman named Madame Wang, who welcomed her with a warm smile. The director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor took a seat at a small, elegantly set table by the window, where she could watch the stars twinkling above. Madame Wang personally attended to Hu Tao, serving her a pot of the finest Jasmine tea. As Hu Tao sipped the fragrant brew, she allowed her thoughts to wander to the more pleasant aspects of her life. Despite the solemn nature of her work, she found solace in the simple pleasures - a beautiful sunset, a well-prepared funeral rite, or the quiet moments spent sipping tea under the stars. The night wore on, and the tea house gradually emptied of its patrons. Hu Tao, however, remained seated, lost in her reflections. It was during these quiet moments that she felt most connected to the essence of Teyvat, the unseen forces that governed the world and the intricate web of life and death. As the moon dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the city, Hu Tao rose to leave. Madame Wang, noticing her departure, pressed a small package into her hands - a bundle of steamed buns, freshly prepared for her late-night journey. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes of the affection and respect Madame Wang held for the enigmatic director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. With the package clutched in her hand, Hu Tao stepped back into the night, the stars her only companions. Her path wound through the city, eventually leading her back to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, its premises shrouded in the quiet darkness of night. There, within its walls, Hu Tao prepared for another day of guiding souls, her spirit bolstered by the simple joys she had discovered under the canopy of Teyvat's starry night. In Liyue, as in all of Teyvat, every moment held a balance of light and darkness, joy and sorrow. And Hu Tao, with her unique role in the cycle of life and death, embodied this balance. As she drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the silent companionship of the funeral parlor's ancestral altar, she knew that come dawn, she would face whatever challenges lay ahead, armed with the serenity and strength found in the quiet beauty of a Teyvat night.
Life in Teyvat: A Night with Hu Tao When the sun dips below the peaks of Mt. Tianheng and the lanterns of Liyue Harbor begin to flicker, most people retreat to the warmth of their homes or the lively tables of Wanmin Restaurant. But for Hu Tao , the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the night is when the "real" work—and the real fun—begins. Living a night in Teyvat alongside Hu Tao is a surreal journey through the "border" between the living and the dead, filled with eerie poetry, unexpected wisdom, and a fair share of pranks. The Midnight Poet of the Alleyways Hu Tao's nights often start not with funeral rites, but with verse. Known as the "Alleyway Dark Poet," she roams Liyue by the light of the moon, composing doggerel that ranges from the whimsical to the profound. You might find her perched on a rooftop or wandering near the Ministry of Civil Affairs, meticulously caring for the stone lions she treats as pets. Her most famous work, the Hilichurl Ballad, is a staple of Liyue's nightlife, often sung by children and adults alike. To Hu Tao, poetry isn't just a hobby; it's a way to demystify the grim reality of her profession, turning the heavy topic of death into something rhythmic and approachable. Business and Spirits at Wuwang Hill As the night deepens, the atmosphere shifts from playful to professional. Hu Tao frequently visits Wuwang Hill , a misty, ghost-infested region that acts as the "border" where spirits linger before passing on. While the average traveler might find the hill’s "ghost walls" (the Chinese phenomenon known as Gui Da Qiang ) terrifying, Hu Tao navigates them with ease, often accompanied by her playful ghost companion, affectionately called "Boo Tao" by fans. Guardian of Balance: Her primary duty at night is to ensure the balance between the two worlds. This means comforting restless spirits and guiding them toward the afterlife. A Serious Side: Despite her usual "Aiya!"-infused cheer, she becomes solemn and dignified when performing actual rites, leading her undertakers through lamp-lit alleys with a gravity that surprises those who only know her as a prankster. The Wangsheng Atmosphere Back at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor , the night is spent managing the business of "sending people on their way". You might catch a glimpse of her "esteemed consultant," Zhongli , who handles the ancient traditions while Hu Tao focuses on more "creative" business expansions—like her infamous "buy one, get one free" coffin coupons. While her methods—like trying to bury the zombie Qiqi out of a misplaced sense of duty—are often misunderstood, they stem from a deep-seated belief that "what should die, should die" to preserve the natural order. Why We Wander the Night A night with Hu Tao reveals the core of her philosophy: to know and respect death is to truly understand the value of life . Whether she’s terrifying the Millelith with a well-timed "boo" or sitting silently at the edge of the border, she serves as a reminder that life in Teyvat is fleeting, and every moment under the stars is meant to be lived to the fullest. Analysis of Hu Tao character Genshin Impact - HoYoLAB 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 world of Teyvat, a land of ancient traditions, mystical energies, and unforgettable characters. Among the seven nations that comprise this vast and wondrous realm, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor stands out as a beacon of reverence and respect for the dearly departed. And at the heart of this esteemed institution is none other than Hu Tao, the enigmatic and captivating Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. As night falls over Liyue, the soft glow of lanterns and the distant sounds of the city create a serene ambiance, perfect for a stroll through the streets of Liyue Harbor. It is on such an evening that one might chance upon Hu Tao, walking alone or sitting on a rooftop, lost in thought. For those who have had the privilege of making her acquaintance, a night with Hu Tao is an experience that lingers long after the clock strikes midnight. The Mysterious Director Hu Tao's presence is both captivating and intimidating, much like the mysterious aura that surrounds her. As the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, she is deeply connected to the spiritual realm, guiding the souls of the departed to their final rest. Her role is not simply a profession, but a calling that requires great sensitivity, compassion, and strength. Despite her reserved demeanor, Hu Tao's eyes sparkle with a knowing glint, as if she holds secrets that few others are privy to. Her calm and collected exterior belies a sharp mind and a quick wit, making her a formidable conversationalist. When engaging with Hu Tao, one must be prepared to navigate a world of subtle humor, clever observations, and unexpected insights. Under the Stars As the night wears on, Hu Tao might invite you to join her on a rooftop, where the city lights twinkle like a canvas of stars. The air is filled with the sweet scent of incense and the soft chirping of nocturnal creatures. With a wave of her hand, she might gesture to the constellations above, pointing out the ancient patterns and mythological figures etched into the sky. In such moments, Hu Tao's passion for astronomy and the mysteries of the universe shine brightly. Her knowledge of the stars and their influence on the world of Teyvat is both impressive and humbling. As you gaze up at the stars together, she might regale you with tales of the old gods, the creation myths of Liyue, or the hidden patterns that govern the movements of the celestial bodies. The Weight of Responsibility As Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Hu Tao bears a heavy responsibility, not only for guiding souls to the afterlife but also for maintaining the delicate balance between the mortal world and the spiritual realm. Her duties require her to navigate a complex web of emotions, from the grief of the living to the whispers of the dead. In quiet moments, Hu Tao might confide in you about the weight of her responsibilities, the loneliness that comes with her role, and the fears that she must confront. You might catch a glimpse of the vulnerable side of her personality, a side that she guards carefully from the prying eyes of the world. Whispers of the Past Hu Tao's long tenure as Director has granted her a unique perspective on the history of Liyue and the evolution of its traditions. As the night wears on, she might begin to share whispers of the past, revealing fragments of her own story, or hinting at events that have shaped the world of Teyvat. With a knowing smile, she might allude to the secret histories of Liyue's great families, or the forgotten lore of the Qixing. Her words might transport you to a bygone era, where legendary heroes, mythical creatures, and powerful adepti once walked among mortals. The Flames of Remembrance As the hours pass, the conversation may turn to the topic of remembrance and the power of memory. Hu Tao's thoughts on the subject are tinged with a deep melancholy, for she has witnessed the fleeting nature of human existence and the impermanence of all things. And yet, even in the face of mortality, Hu Tao finds solace in the flames of remembrance. The burning of incense, the lighting of lanterns, and the recitation of prayers all serve as testaments to the enduring bond between the living and the dead. In these moments, she might speak of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's role in honoring the departed, and the sacred rituals that have been entrusted to her care. Farewell, for Now As the night draws to a close, Hu Tao might escort you to the door, her presence still radiating an aura of quiet strength and mystery. The encounter may leave you feeling both enlightened and humbled, with a deeper appreciation for the complexities of life in Teyvat. Though the evening may be over, the memories of your time with Hu Tao will linger, much like the scent of incense on a summer breeze. As you bid her farewell, you can't help but wonder when your paths will cross again, and what new secrets or insights she might share with you on a future night, under the starry skies of Teyvat.
Life in Teyvat: A Night with Hu Tao When the sun dips below the peaks of Mt. Tianheng and the golden glow of Liyue Harbor begins to flicker with lantern light, most citizens head home for tea and rest. But for Hu Tao , the eccentric 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor , the night is just beginning. To spend a night with Hu Tao is to walk the thin line between the mundane and the supernatural, where ghost stories are just Tuesday night chatter and the business of death is handled with a surprisingly lively spring in one's step. The Twilight Shift: Poetry and Pranks The evening often begins at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, located in the quieter corners of Liyue Harbor. While she might spend her afternoons trying to sell "buy one, get one free" funeral coupons to healthy passersby, her nights are for more creative pursuits. The Verse of the Night: Hu Tao is as much a poet as she is a director. You might find her sitting on the parlor steps, drafting new stanzas for the famous "Hilichurl Ballad". Petting the Statues: A typical night might involve a detour to the Ministry of Civil Affairs to check on "Dami" and "Ermi"—the two stone lion statues she has "adopted" as pets. Midnight Marketing: If the harbor is too quiet, she might venture into the Feiyun Slope area to "promote" her business to night owls, much to the chagrin of the local Millelith. Into the Mist: Wuwang Hill As the night deepens, the true nature of Hu Tao’s work emerges. The director often journeys to Wuwang Hill, a place where the border between life and death is notoriously thin. Reddit·r/Genshin_Impact A night spent with Hu Tao is never
This report details the nocturnal activities, character depth, and professional responsibilities of , the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor in Liyue Harbor. 🏮 Professional Duties: Safeguarding the Border At night, Hu Tao transitions from a playful prankster to a solemn guardian of the "border" between life and death. Funeral Rites: She leads undertakers through lamp-lit alleys to conduct flawless last rites, ensuring the balance of yin and yang remains undisturbed. The Border: Hu Tao is one of the few who can travel to the literal border of life and death to interact with lingering spirits. Wangsheng Legacy: The parlor, which has existed since the Archon War, focuses on purging "fetor" (karmic miasma) and maintaining the natural order. ✍️ Artistic Pursuits: The Midnight Poet When not managing the dead, Hu Tao is a celebrated and eccentric poet. Hilitune: Her most famous work, the "Hilitune," is a grim but catchy nursery rhyme sung by children and even spirits as far as Qingce Village . Creative Strolls: She is known to wander the mountains and seas by the "oil of midnight" to gather inspiration for her verses. Social Circle: She frequently participates in poetry battles and social gatherings, often with fellow author Xingqiu | Genshin Impact Wiki or her "easy-to-scare" friend Xiangling | Genshin Impact Wiki. 🎭 Character Analysis: Beyond the Pranks While Liyue citizens often find her antics annoying—like bathing stone lions or trying to "save" Qiqi through burial—her behavior is a deeply personal philosophy. Hu Tao/Profile - Genshin Impact Wiki
Life in Teyvat: A Night with Hu Tao – Poetry, Pranks, and the Paramita Papilio 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 . Phase 1: Dusk – The "Business" Meeting I met her at the parlor’s back entrance at 7 PM. She wasn't drafting contracts or polishing urns. She was trying to teach a stray cat to do a handstand. “Oh! You’re early!” she chirped, flipping backward onto a stone railing. “I was just doing market research. Cats have nine lives, you know. Imagine the funeral package potential!” Tonight’s itinerary, according to Hu Tao, had three rules:
No yawning (it "attracts bored spirits"). You must try her new "Ciccone Green Tea" (a suspicious neon color). Absolutely no crying—unless it’s laughter. The Ambience: Lanterns and Shadows The evening usually
We began with a walk to the Yujing Terrace. While the rest of Liyue was heading home for dinner, Hu Tao was checking in on the other residents. Phase 2: 21:00 – Ghost Tour with a Twist Forget spooky whispers and cold shivers. Hu Tao’s version of a ghost tour involves her holding a single, flame-lit talisman and yelling, “Knock knock!” into empty alleyways. “You have to be polite!” she explained, waving her hand through a patch of glowing mist I couldn’t see. “Mr. Feng here lost his keys three centuries ago. He’s not scary, he’s annoying .” She then proceeded to help a ghost find his spectral key under a lantern. How? She asked a Millelith guard if she could borrow his handcuffs to "measure the wind." The guard ran away. Hu Tao found the key. Informative Takeaway: Contrary to Liyue’s rumors, Hu Tao doesn’t summon death. She views the deceased as neighbors who simply moved to a different street. Her night work is less exorcism and more... chaotic good neighborhood watch. Phase 3: Midnight – The Paramita Papilio At the stroke of midnight, we reached the edge of the harbor cliffs. The usual bubbly prankster vanished. For the first time, I saw the real Hu Tao. She closed her eyes, and the air grew warm. Crimson butterflies, born of pure pyro energy, erupted from her palms. She danced—a sharp, elegant series of movements that were part martial art, part funeral rite. “This is the Paramita Papilio,” she whispered, a single flame reflecting in her crimson eyes. “The butterfly that guides souls across the border. Pretty, right? Most people just see the fire. They forget the fire is the guide .” She didn't fight any monsters. She didn't perform a ritual. She just... stood there, letting the butterflies drift down toward the sea. I realized she was saluting the soldiers and sailors who never made it home. Phase 4: 02:00 – Poetry & Pranks By 2 AM, the philosophy was over. We were back in the city, and Hu Tao had discovered a fresh pile of Qixing leaflets. “They say ‘Keep Liyue Tidy,’” she giggled, folding a paper crane the size of a dog. “Let’s see how tidy they like their roofs.” We spent an hour launching origami cranes onto the rooftops of the Ministry of Civil Affairs. She recited poetry the entire time—macabre haikus about chrysanthemums and tea—while dodging a very sleepy guard. Her favorite line? “The coffin is just a sleeping bag you never have to unzip.” Phase 5: 03:00 – The Final Lesson Exhausted, I sat on the steps of the Northland Bank. Hu Tao sat beside me, finally quiet. “You’re wondering why I do this,” she said, not as a question. I admitted I was tired, scared, and confused. She put a warm hand on my shoulder. “Everyone in Liyue works for Mora. For contracts. For the future. Me? I work for tonight. Because tomorrow isn't guaranteed, Traveler. And that’s not sad. That’s freedom .” She pulled out two sticks of almond tofu from her sleeve (don't ask how it wasn't melted). We ate in silence as the first hint of dawn turned the sea gold. The Verdict Surviving a night with Hu Tao isn't about fearing death. It’s about realizing you’ve been wasting your life being polite. She is a trickster, a poet, a pyromaniac, and a philosopher. By sunrise, she was asleep on a bench, snoring softly with a “Hilichurl Hug Me” doll in her arms. If you ever get the chance to spend a night with the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, take it. Just bring your own tea. And maybe a helmet.
Have you encountered Hu Tao’s nightly antics in Liyue? Share your stories in the comments below—if you survived to tell them.
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