"Aiya! You're late, or perhaps just in time for the shifting of the tides," she greets you, her voice a sing-song melody that contrasts sharply with her grim profession.
"The sun is up, the night is done, Go hug your mother, go kiss your son. Don’t fear the dark, don’t dread the fall, Because life, my friend, is the best ghost of all."
She guides the lost spirits with a warmth that doesn’t consume, but comforts.
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.
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. Life in Teyvat- Night with Hu Tao
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.
Her hand was surprisingly warm. For someone who sells coffins, her pulse was a rapid, erratic drumbeat of pure life.
“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!”
Hu Tao laid out a picnic blanket—which was, upon closer inspection, a silk funeral shroud. "Don't be morbid," she said when she saw my face. "Grandma used this for forty years before she passed. It's vintage." Don’t fear the dark, don’t dread the fall,
"I'll think about it."
First, I need a strong, atmospheric opening. Set the scene in Liyue Harbor at night, contrasting its usual bustling daytime life with the quieter, spookier nighttime vibe that suits Hu Tao. Introduce the premise: the narrator accepting her unusual invitation for a "stroll."
For weeks, I had avoided her. Not out of malice, but out of self-preservation. As the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Hu Tao has an energy that is exhausting to the uninitiated. She is a brushfire of bad puns, aggressive friendliness, and a deeply unsettling obsession with the logistics of the afterlife.
Hu Tao appears not with a solemn stride, but with a cheerful skip. Her signature top hat, adorned with a plum blossom, sits jaunty on her head. Her bright, plum-blossom-shaped eyes gleam with a mixture of mischief and profound understanding. As she drifted off to sleep, surrounded by
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
The playful facade drops when she performs her rituals. Utilizing her Pyro Vision, she commands butterflies of pure flame to light up the dark forest. These butterflies act as guides, warming the cold, lingering souls and giving them the peace required to move on. Watching her work reveals her true nature: beneath the pranks and sales pitches lies a deeply empathetic guardian dedicated to maintaining the cosmic balance of Teyvat. Midnight Poetry and Pranks
"They do?"
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.
She often uses the quiet hours of the deep night to practice her passion for poetry. Sitting by a campfire on the edge of the cliffs, she will readily share her latest verses, which often blend grim themes with witty punchlines. If you aren't careful, you might also find yourself the target of a jump-scare prank, as she delights in hiding in the shadows just to see her companions jump. For Hu Tao, bringing humor to the dark is a way to celebrate being alive. Dawn Over Liyue Harbor