I'll avoid being too game-mechanic heavy (no stats or talent names) and focus on character-driven storytelling. The language should be vivid, a bit poetic, but clear. Let me start writing. is a long-form article capturing the essence of a night spent with Liyue’s most peculiar (and beloved) funeral consultant.
Hu Tao forces you to look at the open grave at the end of the road, not with fear, but with the recognition that you are not there yet. The grass is green. The fire is warm. The Almond Tofu is sweet.
As night falls in Liyue, the streets become quieter, and the lanterns lining the rivers and streets cast a warm, golden glow. It's during these peaceful hours that Hu Tao can often be found patrolling the streets of Liyue, her iconic red and black funeral attire a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of the city. For those who are curious about her daily life and what goes on in her mind, let's dive into a typical night in Teyvat with Hu Tao.
She finally twisted around, her twin black tails whipping through the air. "Perfect. We need provisions. The dead get hungry, you know."
If you wake up the next morning and find a red talisman stuck to your backpack with a picture of a laughing ghost on it, don't remove it. It’s Hu Tao’s version of a "miss you" note. Keep it. It’s good luck. Probably. Life in Teyvat- Night with Hu Tao
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 .”
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?"
For a moment, the 'Weirdo of the Undertaking Business' was still. The wind rustled the plum blossom trees nearby, scattering a few petals onto the porch.
As she scribbled, a faint, translucent figure appeared near a fallen stone lantern. It was an elderly man, looking confused and clutching a spectral fishing rod. He didn't look scary—just lost. I'll avoid being too game-mechanic heavy (no stats
As you walk through the thick fog, she shares her passion for poetry. She recites her famous "Hiligurl Song" with a playful cadence, her voice echoing off the damp stones. Yet, between the lighthearted rhymes, she drops fragments of profound philosophy. She speaks of the balance between life and death not as a tragedy, but as a natural, beautiful cycle.
=================================== THE HILICHURL'S LAMENT =================================== The first hilichurl fell sick, The second hilichurl took a look... The third hilichurl bought the medicine, The fourth hilichurl boiled it cooked! ===================================
She possesses a profound understanding of the balance between the mortal world and the spiritual world. A "Poetic" Walk Under the Moon
Have you encountered Hu Tao’s nightly antics in Liyue? Share your stories in the comments below—if you survived to tell them. is a long-form article capturing the essence of
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.
No nighttime walk is complete without a visit to her beloved stone lions, which she has affectionately nicknamed "Nyaichi" and "Nyanzii". She treats them like beloved pets, patting their stony heads and whispering about her day as if they were listening. It’s a private, childlike ritual that perfectly captures the contrast between her heavy responsibilities and her innocent, playful soul.
This patrol is not meant for hunting ghosts, but for maintaining balance. Hu Tao guides lost souls toward the border, ensuring they do not linger too long in the living world. Watching her speak softly to a wandering spirit reveals her true nature. She is a compassionate guardian of the soul's final journey. Poetry Under the Moon
We ate in silence for a while. The harbor bells chimed two hours past midnight. A stray cat padded by, paused, then continued toward the funeral parlor as if it knew the way home.
You tell her that she is a freak. But a good one.