GENESIS [zhongli x gn!reader]

by steepgan

Summary:

"All suggestions can go in here."
"[Name], that is a trash can."

The intrepid [Name] [Surname] meets their match in the reserved Zhongli as they dodge through the everyday adventures of life.

Notes:

Zhongli, a funeral parlor consultant, meets [Name], a Paimon-proclaimed criminal with an ugly hat.

Chapter 1: The Arrest of Master [Name]

ZHONGLI patted his pockets.

“That’ll be 5000 mora,” repeated the shopkeep. Zhongli already held the stew he’d purchased in hand, and he must pay the shopkeep. It was by contractual obligation. A tradition he encouraged. Unfortunately, the whereabouts of money had yet to be found. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“It’s 5000 mora for the stew, sir.”

“Ah, yes. I do have the money.” He did not. “Give me a moment while I find the 5000 mora because I, like every mortal in Liyue, must pay a cost for something I have purchased.”

The shopkeep scratched his head. “Um, right. Sure.”

Zhongli then realized that fishing his empty pockets and shaking his sack of a wallet dry would do him more humiliation than good. He cast a glance to the couple waiting impatiently behind him before clearing his throat. “Do you have a tab open for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor?”

For the second time that day, the ex-Archon, now-mortal Zhongli walked free without paying.

He congratulated himself. It was the little wins that mattered. Yes, he thought to himself, that was what mortals did, after all: they celebrated insignificant victories.

Zhongli strolled down the cobbled streets of Liyue Harbor. Strong, red-painted buildings were built from the ground up and towered over the small, small people. Gilded designs decorated each intricate piece of infrastructure, swirling and looping in thick strokes. The smell of spices from the famous Wanmin Restaurant gave newcomers a bit of culture shock when first settling in, and the salty air of the ocean reminded all those of the fresh imports constantly coming in and the exports going out.

People shouted and hollered at Zhongli, beckoning him over to this stall and that; a few children ran past him with kites from a toy seller in hand, and a bumbling, nervous girl let out weak advertisements for the Adventurers’ Guild. Idle chatter grew exponentially.

Liyue was a nation whose god doted over them, in contrast to the godless Mondstadt. Unfortunately, Liyue’s doting god was dead.

Well—“dead,” was more like it.

Zhongli was still very much alive.

The trivial affairs of life and death were left at the doorstep of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor anyway. He was, to put it lightly, overqualified for the position of funeral consultant, yet taking the occupation was an ironic joke on Zhongli’s part, not that anyone would understand.

Zhongli entered his workplace, straight-faced and determined to start this day out well. He was doing considerably well in his 9 to 5, and many people considered the funeral parlor a reputable establishment (despite some speculation of its affiliation with shadier businesses). Zhongli was paid well—or at least he thought he was paid well. Inflation, value, and interest went over Zhongli’s head.

“Oh! Is that stew?” a chipper voice broke through Zhongli’s thoughts. 

Well. There went Zhongli’s hopes for a great day.

“Can I have some?” Hu Tao, the 77th director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, popped her nosy head through the back door. It seemed the smell of the soup prompted her to make an appearance. Typically Hu Tao was out and about causing trouble for everyone and their mother when there was no work to be done. “It looks tasty.”

Zhongli set the stew down on the counter. He sat. “This is my breakfast.”

“Our breakfast?”

“Still my breakfast.”

“Oh, boo,” whined Hu Tao as she strutted over to the man. She was significantly shorter since she was just barely an adult. She wore a hat which boosted her height to a degree, and her Pyro Vision was well-concealed underneath her dark clothes. “You won’t be able to enjoy that stew for long, though! It’s only an hour until work starts.”

Zhongli said nothing as he ate his stew.

Hu Tao wilted. She childishly pouted and waited until another conversation topic waddled into her head. She perked up. “Say, there’s been a lot of missing people as of late. I see missing people posters all over Liyue Harbor—I hope they’re all safe!”

The young traveler Lumine and her odd friend Paimon had requested the Qixing to plaster posters of her missing brother all of Liyue as compensation for all the deeds the traveler had done for Liyue. The Qixing were known to keep up their end of a good deal. When Zhongli dawdled at the ports, he’d seen the posters himself—Lumine’s brother looked remarkably like her. How familiar, Zhongli had thought.

Of course, it wasn’t any of his business now. Zhongli was now a mortal. As mortal as a God could be. The Qixing could handle it, surely, as the governors of Liyue. Tianquan Ningguang seemed more than capable of helping Lumine out. 

For now, he’d enjoy his stew.

Hu Tao, unsatisfied with Zhongli’s lack of an answer, tipped Zhongli’s bowl over. The soup’s contents spilled over the counter and dripped onto the floor. Droplets spewed everywhere. She harrumphed, then scurried away and through the back door. 

Now alone, Zhongli was frozen with a spoon mid-air that was about to reach his mouth.

My stew.

For a long time, Zhongli stared and tried to process what had just happened. He then sighed and consumed what little was left on his spoon. It was no matter, as he could always purchase another stew. It was on the parlor’s tab anyway. “I cannot deal with that child.”

After Zhongli cleaned up Hu Tao’s mess, he opened the funeral parlor for business.

Many people came and went, seeking out advice and questions. Zhongli gave his condolences and worked diligently. The people of Liyue revered their traditions, and the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor kept traditional funeral rites and rituals aplenty. Zhongli himself was a man of tradition; in fact, there was not a detail, an image, or a text that he forgot.

There was value in Liyue’s tradition and history, but there was also value in the future, in modernity. Zhongli supposed it was only natural that he couldn’t forget anything. Who would remember Liyue’s grandness in all its glory if not for him? 

Not only that, but Liyue Harbor was a hub for business and trade—and with business and trade came new ideas and philosophies. Zhongli was sure that things would turn out well even if he was no longer Liyue’s god, and he hoped they turned out well for the poor traveler and her brother, too.

Ah, speaking of, here Lumine came.

Little Lumine and her even littler companion Paimon walked through the doors of the funeral parlor. 

Director Hu Tao didn’t take down a single decoration her grandfather had up. Paimon oohed and ahhed at the little trinkets here and there and the interior design of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. And, of course, the traveler must still be adjusting to the sights of Liyue, given that she wasn’t from here. 

She wasn’t from Teyvat at all, actually. 

Lumine was an outlander from another world whereas her friend was a floating elf. Paimon floated just a whisper above Lumine’s shoulder, yipping away at the poor girl’s ear. Paimon was a small companion through and through with a blue star-flecked cape that matched the color of her eyes, and she bore an impish nose that seemed to always know where the food was. Despite her little stature, Paimon’s mouth was… quite the opposite.

“Traveler,” greeted Zhongli. He bobbed his head in Paimon’s direction. “And Paimon. What brings you to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor? I presume you’re not here for a funeral. Or I hope.”

“Mr. Zhongli!” Paimon waved enthusiastically. She paused, then sniffed the air. “Do you have soup on you?”

Zhongli cleared his throat. 

Lumine fished a poster out and placed it on the counter. It was a missing person poster. Searching Liyue for her brother was futile, but Zhongli admired that stubbornness in Lumine nonetheless. She was sure to find her twin someplace in Teyvat, and if not Liyue, then Inazuma would be her next best bet. He’d previously told her that she needed to find a way into such a closed off nation, and it seemed she had yet to do so.

“Have you seen this person?” Lumine asked. Zhongli raised his brows. “They’ve been missing for a few days now, and I thought that I might as well check in here.”

Zhongli looked at the poster. “Not your brother?”

“Ah, no.” Lumine looked abashed as she rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m helping someone else out. A commerce guild. It’s just a small favor for a bit more mora.”

“Well,” said Zhongli, “I haven’t seen them. I’ll let you know if I ever find your missing person.”

“Hmm,” said Paimon, bobbing up and down, “then, Traveler, we should try the Wanwen bookstore next!”

Lumine nodded. “Sounds good. Mr. Zhongli, you should keep the poster.”

Then the traveler jumped up and down several times. She ran around in a circle with Paimon following. Then she stopped by the counter, where a book was on display. She stole the book. Zhongli couldn’t find it in himself to make a comment about Lumine’s strange antics. He’d spent a great deal of time with her already to question whatever the hell the traveler was up to.

Soon after, Lumine and Paimon left, leaving Zhongli back at work. 

He studied the poster. While the Qixing did facilitate the distribution of posters for Lumine’s twin brother, this poster was privately made and distributed. A sigil of the Wang Commerce Guild was imprinted on the bottom corners of the poster.

Zhongli knew much of the Wang Commerce Guild; well, then again, he knew much of everything. The Wang Commerce Guild specialized in luxury goods, mostly, but after the passing of the previous master, the guild began to focus heavily on the arts and Fontaine exports due to its new master. To say the commerce guild was a Maecenas was an understatement.

The person present on the poster looked like a harbinger of trouble. Their brows were furrowed and their head was tilted with their shoulders slack. They made a strangely pissy face.

Zhongli wondered if they were a part of Childe’s crowd.

Director Hu Tao sidled up next to Zhongli. She carried a heavy vase before setting it down on the counter for extra decoration. The vase was grand with designs in red and gold. Zhongli wondered where she ever acquired such an expensive vase. Or rather how she got it.

Hu Tao opened her mouth to say something—probably nothing good, Zhongli presumed quickly—but then she frowned. “Oh, Rex Lapis! Where did my book go?”

Zhongli blinked, about to respond, but then he quickly and smoothly dusted invisible lint off of his dark jacket.

“I wasn’t done reading it,” she complained. Hu Tao looked completely dejected. “Do you know how expensive books are getting these days, Zhongli? It’s not good! Not good at all! Oh, uh, I suppose you wouldn’t know much about expenses. Do you know what taxes are?”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

Work resumed. Zhongli worked diligently, hoping the customers found great satisfaction in the service of the funeral parlor. At some point, Zhongli wanted to visit an old friend at the Wangshu Inn, but unfortunately, Hu Tao wouldn’t be letting him go anytime soon. Hu Tao took her job at the funeral parlor very seriously—with an utter lack of care for anything else. 

Of course, one of these days, Zhongli would like to adventure around the modern Teyvat in his little mortal body. He’d gone on many adventures in the past, and if he were to live many years more, he might as well see everything. When he expressed his desire to do so to his coworkers, they’d laughed (much to Zhongli’s confusion) and wished him luck to save up for such a grand trip.

So Zhongli was still here.

Customers trickled in, some new faces and some familiar. Zhongli said his greetings.

A few loitered around in the back while waiting for their turn for consultation; others were dressed up exceptionally, as they were here for more personal matters with the director. They brought jade and flowers—and Zhongli saw someone intertwine a pretty glaze lily in a woman’s hair. The woman smiled prettily before lightly brushing her fingers against the petals.

His life, admittedly, was less exciting and tumultuous. The last exciting, tumultuous thing he did was talk about a sort of tea with Madame Ping this morning. However, he found pleasure in the mundane now. What could the taste of the Wanmin Restaurant not fix? 

Well, Zhongli considered, what an exceptionally mortal way of thinking!

Mortals were often caught up in everyday life, just jumping from one day to the next.

He liked his new life. Zhongli fastened the hem of his glove well over his wrist. The ferrylady of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor quickly wrote something down in her pad of paper as she checked the stock of items and antiques in the parlor. She noticed Zhongli staring and gave a quick subtle nod. 

Zhongli held a piece of Noctilucous Jade up, and the jade glinted through the light of the window. He was lucky to nab a piece earlier this morning when the market began to bustle. The people of Liyue were relentless when it came to business, and Zhongli was no exception. He knew a good deal when he saw it.

190,000 mora. Not bad, not bad.

One particular customer in the funeral parlor wore an outstanding hat that was far out of fashion in Liyue and well into the fashion tastes of Fontaine. They studied the vase that Hu Tao put up, eyeing the design and the strokes of paint.

Zhongli almost complimented their taste; it took a true lover of tradition and history to recognize how valuable the vase actually was. However, the man was caught off-guard by their hat. 

That’s such an… odd hat, Zhongli thought.

Hold on.

Zhongli looked down at the missing person poster. He looked at the person with the hat. He craned his neck to get a better look. He turned down to the poster once more. Then up at the person. Then the poster. Then the person.

“Good afternoon, customer,” said Zhongli finally. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

The person perked up from the vase. It really was the person on the poster, from the grand jut of their chin to the scrutinizing feel of their gaze; however, Zhongli wondered why the poster’s rendition of their nose was a bit off. 

“Oh, no,” said the missing person. “I was just admiring this fine piece of—”

Their eyes fell to the poster on the counter. Then they looked at Zhongli. Then the poster once more. Then Zhongli. 

“Fuck.”

Zhongli wasn’t sure he heard them right. “Fine piece of what?”

The person fastened on the hat to their head (Zhongli wondered why they even needed such a lavish hat if they were on the run) and booked it to the door. 

However, Lumine and Paimon entered at the same time; Paimon was panting, as if she'd been in a rush. They blocked the exit from the missing person, and then the person swore again. It was almost laughable how perfect Lumine’s timing always was, considering how her closest friend was a gluttonous toddler that could float.

Paimon, the gluttonous toddler in question, sunk to the floor like an autumn leaf. She looked all out of sorts despite being a floating creature. Lumine made a face of concern for her elf friend. Lumine then whirled her head to the person with the hat.

“Stop!” Lumine said. “You’re under arrest!”

“What do you mean I’m under arrest?” exclaimed the person.

“Yeah, for that atrocious hat,” moaned out Paimon from the floor. She looked deflated. Paimon weakly raised her head. “The Wang Commerce Guild is after you and has put a significant number on your head. If the traveler and Paimon get that mora, then Paimon gets to eat like a king for a lifetime!”

The person took off their hat and clutched it to their chest. “Atrocious? It’s quite nice-looking.”

“No, it’s so ugly,” said Paimon.

“You’re so ugly.”

Zhongli watched his remaining customers edge out of the store, awkward and fumbling. They made small excuses such as we’ll come back soon! and sorry to disturb! before fully backing out of the store; then it was just Zhongli, the traveler, Paimon, and the person with the flamboyant eyesore of a hat.

Hu Tao wouldn’t like the sudden disappearance of customers, and she sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate the commotion within her parlor. Zhongli crossed his arms, eyeing the person up and down; there wasn’t really anything criminal about them—other than their hat. 

“Well, you should let me go now,” said the person, “because you know what they say—the bigger the hat, the bigger the heart.”

Zhongli blinked. “Really?”

“No,” Lumine shut down quickly. “Chat all you like, criminal, but you’re still coming with us! Paimon and I need that mora!”

“Criminal?” repeated the person incredulously. They put the hat on their head, which, yet again, Zhongli thought was fruitless for their situation, and then they pointed an accusatory finger at Lumine. Some theatre worthy action. “You’ll never catch me! The Wang Commerce Guild will just have to cope—”

In about five minutes, Lumine and Paimon had the person in ropes and ready to turn in.

“This feels unlawful,” said the person.

The person’s ropes were wrapped tight around their wrists, which were behind their back. Paimon held one end of the rope, bobbing up and down. Lumine scratched her head. She had her sword drawn in case the person caused any more trouble, but the trouble the person caused was no more than a few swear words and then nearly slipping over Lumine’s foot.

“In the name of the Wang Commerce Guild, you, [Name], are under arrest!” Paimon exclaimed, chipper as one could be. The person, otherwise known as [Name], made a face. “Time to turn you into Secretary Lu! Thank you, Mr. Zhongli, for catching them!”

“Ah,” said Zhongli. “I didn’t do anything. It’s all you, traveler and Paimon.”

[Name] whirled their head to Zhongli, brows furrowed, shoulders slack, head tilted—just like the poster photo. Their words were, admittedly, not as pretty as their face: “You!”

“Me,” said Zhongli.

“You got me caught!”

“I really just stood here.”

The person, for a moment, pursed their lips, as if they’d wanted to swear out Zhongli, and Zhongli, for a moment, might have wanted to hear it. Instead, [Name] murmured promises of revenge and various obscenities, all of which Zhongli took halfheartedly. 

Zhongli was amused, if anything; Zhongi’s memory served him well over his years of existence, but for some odd reason he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the features of [Name]’s face. They must have been new to Liyue. He couldn’t help but think that this [Name] had such a grand entrance for a human being.

After all, they did get arrested in a funeral parlor.

[Name]’s ropes were harshly tugged on by Paimon, who was already leading them out of the parlor doors. [Name] turned and followed Paimon and Lumine out. The bright light of the day shadowed their dark back, and Zhongli held his hand over his brows like a visor. 

Zhongli overheard Paimon and [Name] arguing. [Name] must have not been an agreeable person, but they were an interesting one, and that made up for it alone. It might have been the hat. It must have been the hat. 

Then the doors closed behind them.

Zhongli stood there for several minutes. His eyes wandered to the hat seated on the counter.

Well.

Chapter 2: Apprentices and Broken Vases

Summary:

[Name] gets an apprentice; Zhongli returns the ugly hat and "breaks" a vase.

“You can’t keep running.”

“Uhhh,” said [NAME], “yeah, I can. Want to see?”

“Nope,” said Secretary Lu. He hefted a neatly bound stack of papers on top of [Name]’s desk. “Do you know how much mora I paid that poor traveler and Paimon just to get my boss back to work? It should be the other way around. You pay me.”

Master [Name] of the Wang Commerce Guild sat at their lonely desk in their grand office. Ever since they arrived from their academia in Fontaine, they were put directly to work—and [Name] kind of, sort of, to some limited extent, didn’t really want to do work. They wanted to eat at the Wanmin Restaurant.

“I guess,” said [Name], giving Lu the stink eye. “I was hoping for a grand entrance for my return to Liyue. Perhaps some window smashing? Food throwing? Maybe a few kites if we were feeling a bit rebellious.”

“I did have you arrested, if that satisfies your opulent needs,” Lu pointed out, all sarcasm and dryness.

[Name] thought about the stagnant Zhongli of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor who watched the arrest in question. Zhongli had a certain air around him that made him unavoidable and a stare that made him unendurable. In the grand interior of the funeral parlor, [Name] noticed him first, and then the vase next to him.

To [Name]’s memory, Zhongli talked like an ancient piece of machine, but he certainly didn’t act like one. When [Name] first set their eyes on him, they immediately dodged their head away and distracted themself. Zhongli strangely made [Name] feel jittery. Perceived. Seen. 

Unfortunately, [Name] had to go back to the parlor—against their pride—for their goddamned hat.

“That’s true… but wait! You had me arrested! That’s—That’s got to be some violation! I can’t believe you painted me as some criminal around Liyue! Imagine my surprise when a sixteen year old teenager and her—and her little doggy accuses me of crimes!”

Lu raised a brow. “What crimes did they accuse you of exactly?”

“Um. Bad ones.”

“Really?”

“You weren’t there. Don’t fact check me.” [Name] stretched in their chair. “I’m the guild manager now.”

Lu made a face. “Archons, this already sounds totalitarian.”

“Totalitarian, Tartaglia, tartar sauce—whatever. I’ve been managing the guild since Auntie died, even if it was from all the way in Fontaine when I was still in school,” said [Name]. “The difference is that I decided to finally govern my conglomerate from a closer distance. In Liyue.”

“Ah, speaking of, deaths seem to be very common in Liyue nowadays.” Lu clasped his hands, and [Name] wondered if Lu was clandestinely planning their death. “Rex Lapis has passed.”

[Name] paused. They sat up in their chair. “Or so I’ve heard. At the Rite of Descension, yes?”

“Well!” Lu pushed the stack of papers closer to [Name]. [Name] scooted their chair back. Lu pushed the papers even closer. [Name] scooted their chair even further. Lu snorted. “You seem rather well-informed for someone who would only send a bad doodle of a Regisvine as a response letter.”

[Name] threw their hands up in the air. “What can I say? Rex Lapis’ death is the exact reason why we have private trade guilds in the first place, Lu. In political and religious turmoil, may trade remain king.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“To the economy!” 

Secretary Lu of the Wang Commerce Guild was [Name]’s more serious counterpart—and former secretary of [Name]’s aunt. He was the son of the prettiest dockworkers Liyue had to offer, and perhaps if [Name] paid him a bit more, then he’d maybe kiss up to them instead of sending harsh glares and snippy words.

He bore the standard black hair and black eyes, and if one saw him in a crowd of people, they’d just glance right over him. But if one were to study him closely, as one would a drawing or a statue, they’d see a hardened, strong man that grew up around the labor-filled docks—who was then tossed into the lush occupation of paper cuts and extreme manners.

Weakly, Lu sighed and said, “To the economy. [Name]. Please. Do your work.”

Lu looked tired enough that [Name] was convinced to do their job.

When [Name] finally picked up the ink and pen, they instead opted to draw a horrible rendition of Lu on the margins of their paper. 

Liyue was a city of business and gilded promises. It had always been deeply rooted in its tradition. [Name] had always planned on returning to Liyue, but they didn’t expect to come home this soon. There was still so much in Fontaine to study!

Now, [Name]’s aunt loved mora and trade, and [Name]’s aunt practically raised [Name]—who also inevitably ended up liking mora and trade. Who didn’t like mora? 

[Name], born of privilege, was given the choice to study wherever they chose, as long as they studied something along the lines of commerce—only natural, as they were to inherit the Wang Commerce Guild from their aunt (who had no children). [Name] didn’t mind the study of commerce at all; they believed that as long as they were competent at something, it was surely doable as a career. 

When [Name] took up the title of guild manager, they took an immediate interest in the act of silk trade and other luxury goods. The Feiyun Commerce Guild—a competitor of [Name]’s—was also associated with silk, but what differentiated the Wang Commerce Guild from the Feiyun Commerce Guild was the Wang Commerce Guild’s sponsorship of visual arts.

Because [Name] themself was a bit of an artist.

Their aunt was something along the lines of an artist, too, but that was beside the point.

[Name]’s canvases and paints laid around their office with loose linen covering them to prevent dust. Thick clay slabs were sealed up tight in boxes, and Kameras from [Name]’s school were kept in pristine conditions, set up in tight messenger bags. [Name] did all sorts of art when they were bored—and it was their interest in art that led them to their academia life in Fontaine.

Once [Name] was sure their brain was fried from the amount of paperwork Lu sent them to deal with, they heard a sharp knock on their office’s double doors. Ah, it must have been Lu returning from his thirty minute lunch break (for some odd reason, those thirty minutes seem to mean two hours to him…) 

So [Name] ignored the knock.

A pause. After that, there was another knock. [Name]’s patience was already thin, so they slammed their head against their desk harshly. Their forehead stung and throbbed. Then they somehow pieced together what little sanity they had.

[Name] set down their pen. “Yes?”

“I have business!” said a voice from the other side of the doors. “I am Xingqiu!”

Archons, it sounded like a prepubescent teen, and [Name] really did not want to deal with that next. With Lu on his timeless lunch break, [Name] couldn’t bring themself to refuse the poor boy outright. They still had some manners. Some. And that fact was tentative, really.

“Xingqiu…” [Name] murmured. That name sounded familiar. They cleared their throat. “Who are you?”

“Ah, uh, as I was saying—I’m Xingqiu, practitioner and master of the Guhua Clan’s arts and second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild!” he said. He fell into silence, and [Name] wondered if he’d lost his voice from how loud he was speaking. “Mind if I open the doors?”

“Not at all. What business, young man?”

Feiyun Commerce Guild. Xingqiu. Ah. [Name]’s competitor. Or their aunt’s competitors—to be precise. But their aunt was dead now, so it was really [Name]’s competitor. [Name] quickly covered up all awry drawings on their desk to seem more professional. They knew Xingqiu had quite the reputation for being chivalrous and polite. 

Xingqiu dressed exactly how a second son of a wealthy guild should. He closed the door behind him and strode over to [Name]’s desk. He stood at a good height that was only prone to more growth. His fancy ruffles of navy blue and white chiffon gave Xingqiu this air of prestige about him. [Name] was very impressed by the stitching of his fine clothes. What an excellent piece of art.

His Hydro Vision was saddled on his hip, and his dark blue hair was swept to the side and chopped unevenly into unappealing bangs; he had a golden tassel for an earring on one ear, and his eyes matched its color. There was a brown messenger bag slung over his shoulder with the Feiyun Commerce Guild sigil stamped on its hide.

And he wore shorts.

Suddenly [Name] was reminded of how afraid they were of kids.

Xingqiu had this look of determination that could only be worn if one experienced the hardships of fluctuating vocal chords at the prime age of fifteen as a result of puberty.

“You are Master [Name], correct?” Xingqiu straightened up. “Sorry to ask for a private audience in such a vulgar manner. When I heard you were in Liyue from my father and brother, I arrived posthaste to greet you.”

[Name] discreetly etched a note to find a dictionary so they could define posthaste later on.

“Oh, yes, no worries,” said [Name]. “I was just finishing up my work, so you arrived at a good time, Xingqiu. I’ve heard all good things about you. Your father and I had a meeting at the Xinyue Kiosk when I first came to town.”

“You had a meeting,” said the young man slowly, “with my father?”

[Name]’s voice went small. “Yes?”

Then there was quiet.

“That only makes sense!” Xingqiu exclaimed, making [Name] blink. “My future master and my father conversing and talking! Of course! My father didn’t speak to the Guhua Clan Master before sending me off—which, admittedly, makes sense, since the Guhua Arts is dying off—but it’s good that he chose to speak…”

[Name] was under the impression that Xingqiu was mild-mannered and civil. When [Name] thought ‘mild-mannered’ and ‘civil,’ they thought of someone with more manageable hair and clasped hands. They supposed all teenagers had this secret side to them that society couldn’t see, and it only served as another reminder that they couldn’t handle children, nevertheless a teenager. 

Xingqiu was no exception. He was droning on and on about future master this and father that and—

Wait. Pause.

“Xingqiu,” said [Name], “what do you mean about your future master?”

The boy cut himself off from his ramble. He lit up. “I hear you’re an artist, Master [Name]!”

[Name] cast a glance to the covered canvases behind Xingqiu. “Uh. What makes you say that?”

“I, too, am an artist, and I’d like to perfect my craft! There is no better suitor to help me hone my skills than you, Master [Name]—someone who’s returned from very far away with newfound knowledge! I would like to study under you and learn what you do to express yourself through your respective craft.”

“I don’t think—uhhh. Hm.” [Name] picked up a piece of paper to study, to give them something to do while the young man talked. “I don’t know what idea you created of me in your head, Xingqiu, but I don’t teach. I’m not really master material. Frankly, I don’t even know where you heard about my work. I don’t market that stuff.”

“Your aunt, actually,” explained Xingqiu. “It was a year or two ago when I met her with my older brother. You had sent her a sculpture of…”

“Myself,” finished [Name]. “I’m quite the gift.”

“Ah, your aunt told my family it was of a hilichurl?”

[Name] drew a breath and promptly crumpled up the paper they were briefly scanning. “Did she? Well, she’s wrong. Listen to the artist, Xingqiu. Not the—not the dead aunt. Anyway, my apologies, but I don’t accept apprentices in art. Or apprentices at all.”

Xingqiu begged, “Please, Master [Name], make an exception.”

[Name] rubbed their forehead. “No. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t understand how much I need a master,” said Xingqiu. He looked like a kicked, blue puppy. “I’ve already studied the blade and I’ve studied chivalry! I need art. Master [Name], your art is imperative to my development.”

They paused. “You are not who I thought you were. Liyue’s youth is certainly questionable.”

Xingqiu looked flustered.

[Name] recounted all of the pleasant things Liyue said about Xingqiu: polite, mild-mannered, and civil. Then they threw those thoughts out the window. It did seem like Xingqiu followed this chivalric code, and this chivalric code was telling him to bother the hell out of poor [Name]. This Xingqiu in front of them was tenacious, eccentric, and eager—the farthest thing from polite, mild-mannered, and civil.

“Listen, Xingqiu, if I were qualified, perhaps I would have taken you in as an apprentice, but I have nothing to teach you. I do art for my own pleasure. In addition, I’m a busy guild manager, and I don’t have time to fiddle around with teaching.”

“I heard you got arrested.”

[Name] went quiet.

“Master—can I call you master?”—and before [Name] could say no, Xingqiu moved on—“I do art for my own pleasure as well. It’s entertainment for me. But I’ve learned that art is necessary for life, and you don’t even have to teach me art directly. I could cull my own lessons from your actions!”

“You scare me.” The words left [Name] before they could process them.

Xingqiu elegantly placed a hand over his heart, a contradictory image to his insistent, stubborn words. “Have I scared you into becoming my master?”

“Not quite.”

The boy bit his lip. “How will I become the hero of Liyue at this rate?”

[Name] blinked. The hero of what? They cleared their throat. “I’m sure you can find some other master and become their apprentice. Someone who is more capable and suitable for the position of master. I only have the title master of the guild because I inherited it, and I’m no master of art. I just like it.”

“No, it has to be you,” Xingqiu said. “You came back from a land far away with newfound knowledge—and you’re a grump! That’s how all the stories go. That’s who the master in the books is supposed to be!”

Am I a grump? [Name] thought self-consciously.

“Oh, I see. You seem to think that we’re in some book,” said [Name]. “That you’re the hero of some long, long tale, and you have to save the world. And then you get princess—”

“Prince.”

“Even better!” exclaimed [Name], throwing their hands up. “The point is, we’re not in some book. We are not these characters you can play around with. Your master will come in the form of someone who is ready to pass on their knowledge and someone who is eligible to teach. I can’t teach art, Xingqiu, and we’re not a book.”

“Actually,” said Xingqiu as he rummaged through his bag that he brought, “we are kind of a book.”

Xingqiu fished out a copy of A Legend of Sword, a book that was highly popular in Fontaine. [Name] themself had a few copies laying around in their room back when they were a student, and they brought their favorite copy with them when they moved back to Liyue. 

Everyone in Fontaine likely had a copy of A Legend of Sword. It was known for its heroic lessons and wild tales of good. Xingqiu held a first edition copy of it—something that was highly valuable and worth a good chunk of mora. 

Even [Name], who was wealthy, couldn’t bring themself to splurge on it. They gulped.

“Xingqiu…” [Name] said. “This may seem… odd of me to ask, but—”

“Oh, yes, I wrote this! It’s based on my own experiences,” Xingqiu said, proud with his chest puffed. “Unfortunately, the Liyue publishing houses didn’t take too well to my story. I’m an aspiring writer, and my art is my word. I know that you have a different medium, but if I could learn under you, then maybe the publishing houses will think differently about my works!”

[Name] was freaking out.

A fifteen-year-old boy wrote that? The masterpiece of A Legend of Sword? [Name] couldn’t believe it. They’d known that the author was in Liyue, but they’d always wondered why the book wasn’t a big hit in Liyue as it was in Inazuma or Fontaine. 

Speaking of, it seemed Xingqiu didn’t know of his fame in Fontaine or in Inazuma, and [Name] suddenly saw the appeal in taking Xingqiu as an apprentice. [Name] was a big fan of Xingqiu’s works, so it all worked out, anyway! Maybe they could get a little autograph in return.

“Xingqiu.”

“Yes?”

[Name] cleared their throat. “I’ve decided to make an exception for you. I will gladly accept you as my apprentice for as long as you need, and you can study whatever you wish for under me.”

Xingqiu lit up. “Really? You really mean it?”

“Yes, sure,” said [Name]. “I think educating Liyue’s youth is important.”

“What happened to Liyue’s youth being questionable?”

“I learned from my mistakes,” replied [Name] quickly. They made a writing motion with their dominant hand. “Jot that down. First lesson. Learn from your mistakes.”

Xingqiu cheered. There was an excited hue of red on Xingqiu’s cheeks. While Xingqiu might have not been the chivalrous knight he saw himself as, [Name] was sure, with his tenacity, he was well on his way there. “Thank you, Master [Name]!”

Oh, boy. Lu was going to have a fit when he found out that [Name] took an apprentice under their wing. Or maybe Lu would cheer up, as Lu always thought [Name] needed a lesson in responsibility. [Name] was plenty responsible, for sure. [Name] fiddled with their guild’s stamp, and then they set it aside to study Liyue’s emblem.

The symbol of Geo—the Archon’s element—was balanced in between a scale, which symbolized contracts and business. [Name] wondered how Liyue would fare now that their god was dead; it seemed Liyue was following Mondstadt’s footsteps. However, unlike Mondstadt, Liyue was under the watchful eye of the Qixing.

“We ought to do what people in Liyue do,” said [Name]. There was a pregnant pause. “Should we set a contract?”

 

---

“You’re here for the hat,” said ZHONGLI. “I assume.”

“Maybe,” said [Name], balancing on their heels like a child. “On the off-chance that I may be here for the hat, would you still have it?”

Zhongli did. It had been a week or so since he last saw [Name] arrested. He did a little studying and chatting in his free time—when he wasn’t working in the parlor—and he quickly found out that the Wang Commerce Guild’s manager recently came back from their studies in Fontaine. Zhongli was exceptionally smart, so he liked to think, and managed to put two and two together.

The person in front of them was the dawdler, dauntless [Name], the Wang Commerce Guild’s current manager. As for the person behind [Name]...

Xingqiu of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. 

Zhongli was perplexed. He folded his hands together on the counter of the funeral parlor. Hu Tao was on her break—likely on her way to the Bubu Pharmacy—leaving Zhongli to tend to the parlor’s business. It was just his luck that the business happened to be a restless guild manager and a fifteen-year-old boy with a bad haircut.

“Oh, Mr. Zhongli,” said Xingqiu.

“You know him?” [Name] asked the boy behind them. Had Zhongli not known Xingqiu beforehand, Zhongli might have assumed Xingqiu as a polite, small boy who knew little of the world outside of common courtesy. However, Zhongli was well-aware of Xingqiu’s habit of causing trouble here and there.

Xingqiu nodded. “Of course, Master [Name]. Mr. Zhongli is a high-profile man in Liyue. My father and brother have had dinner with him once.”

“Great,” said [Name]. “Is everyone just in love with Zhongli? He had me arrested at some point.”

“I didn’t arrest you,” Zhongli felt the need to clarify. “Or have you arrested, for that matter.”

“Guilt by association then!”

Zhongli opened his mouth, then closed it. He did have a poster of the young master, and he was there when it happened. “Guilty.”

[Name] stopped balancing on their heels. Zhongli could only see [Name] as an excitable mortal—someone who bounced about, someone who was very human. [Name] cleared their throat, and Zhongli could only feel as if they were mocking him to a degree. “And as for the hat…”

“You know, Master [Name], that hat you have is very peculiar. I assume you got it from your trip to Fontaine?” Zhongli reached below the counter to retrieve the hat he’d stored for safekeeping. If he let Hu Tao near it, she might have vandalized it—and it was already quite ugly on its own. He placed the hat on the counter with little grandeur. “Welcome back to Liyue, by the way.”

[Name] took the hat from the counter. Xingqiu made a face when looking at the hat. [Name] placed the hat on their head. “I’m surprised you know who I am, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Ah, well, I get around.”

[Name] looked up and down at Zhongli. “Really?”

Zhongli had a feeling he used that phrase wrong.

“I’ll be back soon,” said [Name]. “My aunt passed not too long ago, and I’d like to buy some things to properly mourn.” Zhongli tried to market what was best for a visit. [Name] interrupted. “Not today, though. Far too busy.”

“Too busy to mourn? How heartless.”

Before [Name] could answer, a cluster of kids ran inside the parlor without any parental supervision.

They swarmed like bees around the store, bumping and clashing into various objects, giggling and chittering as they did so. There were whoops and shouts of nonsense as Zhongli tried to usher them outside from behind the counter. 

The ferrylady was far better at dealing with children than Zhongli, but Zhongli let the ferrylady take a needed break after seeing her all exhausted earlier today. Zhongli pursed his lips and tried to get the children’s attention: “Children. This is a funeral parlor. Please see yourselves out.”

[Name] and Xingqiu were pushed off to the side, where they watched the giddy children play about in the funeral parlor. Zhongli wondered what parents allowed children to come and go inside shops just to play with make-believe. A little boy with shaggy black hair and brown eyes yipped to the rest of his friends, “Come, guys! This is Mr. Zhongli! I see him all the time down at the harbor talking to old guys.”

Oh, great. They weren’t playing make-believe. They were playing tourist.

“Come now,” said Zhongli. He wasn’t the best with kids. He raised his hands in caution. “It is far more interesting outside. This is a place of tradition and… adulthood. Let’s not play inside, lest something bad happens to you.”

“Dear Archons,” said [Name] with their arms crossed. Zhongli realized that they were addressing him. He snapped to attention. “You talk as if you’re a relic.”

“I’m”—Zhongli’s mouth went dry—“actually pretty young.”

“How old?”

Zhongli said the first number that came to his head. “Twenty-nine.”

“So you’re pushing thirty.”

The lie left a bitter taste in Zhongli’s mouth. He disliked lies and lying, but there were some situations where it was inevitable. 

Xingqiu furrowed his brows. “Ah, Master [Name], aren’t you just a year or two youn—”

“Okay, lesson number two: shush.” [Name] clapped their hands, but it was barely audible over the shouts of the children. [Name] stared at kids. “I think the real question is where are these children’s parents?”

The young man stared at [Name]. “You’re a terrible teacher.”

“Not as terrible as these parents.”

Zhongli was surprised that someone like [Name] could even manage a guild; now, the Wang Commerce Guild was a fairly new one—it lacked the history that the Feiyun Commerce Guild had. Maybe someone with [Name]’s fresh yet disturbing personality was something Liyue and the Wang Commerce Guild needed.

In addition, Zhongli was an avid supporter of the Wang Commerce Guild, as they brought about change to Liyue, but that meant Zhongli had to be an avid supporter of that bastard ([Name]).

However, [Name], with all their sarcasm and quips, seemed to be all dodgy eyes and furrowed brows when it came to Zhongli, as if they weren’t really looking at him directly. Zhongli pondered if it was a height thing or an attitude thing or anything else. It only added to the mortal qualities that Zhongli saw in them.

A girl with her brown hair tied up in tight buns was shoved by her friend. She tumbled into Hu Tao’s heavy vase on the countertop. Zhongli raced to soften the landing of the vase.

The vase cracked when it hit the floor.

Slowly, the cracks turned into large fractures, and then the vase fell apart.

The girl slid to the floor, the beginnings of sobs began to rack her chest. Her friend, horrified, ran to her and began checking her body for any marks. There were murmurs of I’m sorry and are you alright? The other kids finally went quiet after realizing what had happened.

Zhongli was noticeably more concerned about the broken pieces of the vase on the ground. 

He suddenly felt quite hot in the funeral parlor. He blamed it on the dark clothes he wore every day. Xingqiu immediately swooped to the crying girl, patting her back. Zhongli noticed the Hydro Vision on his hip. Xingqiu brushed the girl’s hair from her face. Despite being rambunctious, Xingqiu could be quite calming when need be. 

[Name] took the initiative of cleaning the vase up. Zhongli told them that it was not needed, since he was a worker and it was his responsibility to clean up messes. [Name] refused his generosity before ducking their eyes back to the shards of the vase.

Their fingers worked quickly and awkwardly in comparison to Zhongli’s fine and smooth movements. They were crouched over the corpse of Hu Tao’s vase, cleaning up, while the rest of the parlor was recovering.

“My vase!” Hu Tao shrieked when she entered the doorframe.

Zhongli stiffened. There went all sense of calm after the storm.

There was dirt smudged on Hu Tao’s face—so she’d tried to bury the little zombie girl in the pharmacy again—and her sleeves were rolled up. The last thing she wanted to see was her vase shattered on the ground, and Zhongli picking up its pieces with a total stranger that looked strange. 

Zhongli and [Name] stood up, pieces in hand.

“Big sister,” said one of the children, tugging at the hem of her clothes. “It was our fault. We were playing tourist, and we pushed one of our friends into your vase. Please don’t be mad.”

Hu Tao softened. She rubbed the head of the girl who was sobbing. “Oh, no, you kiddos are fine. It’s the adults in the room that’ll take responsibility. Please! Go outside and have your fun. Don’t worry at all! Don’t worry at all…”

Zhongli had an inkling that he should be worrying. A lot.

Hu Tao took her job seriously, and right now she was looking very much like an adult. Zhongli found himself holding a newfound respect for his boss. [Name] set the shards tentatively on the counter. Zhongli murmured a thank you.

Once the children were properly escorted out, [Name] and Xingqiu attempted to follow in suit. However, a grown guild manager and a teenager with frilly clothes surprisingly didn’t manage to camouflage with children that well.

Hu Tao held up her hand. “You two. Stay.”

“We didn’t do anything!” exclaimed [Name]. They stood in front of the exit but didn’t dare to leave. “I came for my hat!”

“And I’m bound by my contract to follow my master to the ends of the world even if it means death because there’s no greater honor than saving my loved ones even if it’s at my own expense!” Xingqiu said.

[Name] stared at their apprentice. “No, you aren’t?”

Hu Tao furrowed her brows. “I saw you”—she pointed to [Name]—“picking up the pieces all guilty-looking, and I saw you”—she pointed to Xingqiu next—“comforting the kids.” Hu Tao turned to Zhongli finally. Zhongli knew exactly what he did. “And you work here, Mr. Zhongli. Is there anything you could have done to prevent this disaster?”

Zhongli wondered why he kept getting roped into events such as these. 

“Isn’t it only natural for us to help? We’re adults.” [Name] held Xingqiu’s shoulders. “In addition, we don’t work here.”

“Hi, Director Hu,” said Xingqiu, waving a hand.

[Name] moved Xingqiu to face them. “You know her, too?”

“We exchange poetry sometimes.”

[Name] turned Xingqiu around as if they couldn’t bear to face him. “Nerd.”

“Director Hu,” said Zhongli. “Master [Name] is right. They were only helping me. I take full responsibility for what happened. I sincerely apologize about your vase.”

Hu Tao pouted. Whatever new respect Zhongli had for Hu Tao was suddenly slapped out. Hu Tao was still a child. A child who made rash decisions and pointed fingers at whomever she wished. “But they were there when it happened. They look like your friends, too, Mr. Zhongli! Guilt by association!”

Zhongli gave [Name] a pointed stare. [Name] looked away.

“You have no say in this, Xingqiu and unidentifiable person wearing an ugly hat,” said Hu Tao, and [Name] and Xingqiu visibly wilted. [Name] touched the brim of their hand sadly. “Now, about those reparations… ” 

Notes:

sorry if any of the characters are ooc 😭😭 i really just started typing away at this... also updates may be slow bc im slow sorry bsdlkerh

Chapter 3: Egg

Summary:

Zhongli, [Name], and Xingqiu are given an egg to take care of; [Name] struggles to find inspiration in Liyue; Xingqiu and Chongyun struggle to open a jar.

“Treat this egg as if it were your own child,” said Hu Tao.

ZHONGLI cradled his egg up to the sunlight that was peeking through the window so he could garner a better look at it. The egg had swirls of a darker gray decorating the shell, and it fit perfectly in his gloved hands. It was kind of deformed in the way a painting was, but Zhongli didn’t mind.

“It’s only polite to take responsibility for any mishaps I’ve caused,” said Xingqiu, holding his egg tentatively, “but I don’t think I caused any this time around—neither did my master.”

[Name] and Xingqiu stood next to Zhongli in a strict line after being coerced into Hu Tao’s schemes and tricks. It had been a few days since Zhongli “broke” the vase, and when Hu Tao called Xingqiu and [Name] back into the parlor, [Name] had relinquished their hat (thankfully). Typically it was strictly Zhongli who got wrapped up in whatever hellfire Hu Tao decided to kindle. 

 Zhongli felt the need to apologize to both [Name] and their apprentice on his boss’ behalf, but whatever apology he had dissolved on his tongue when Hu Tao continued to talk.

Hu Tao clasped her hands behind her back. “Just take care of this egg today, turn it into me tonight, and I’ll let you three scot-free!”

“Again,” said [Name], and they pointed to themself, then Xingqiu, “we don’t work here.”

Hu Tao batted her lashes. “I’m a child. Humor me?”

[Name] looked partly disgusted.

Xingqiu huffed. “You’re my friend, Director Hu, and since I did nothing to save what was precious to you, then I’ll gladly take care of this egg if it makes you happy again.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Hu Tao, and Zhongli’s lack of one made Hu Tao turn to the refined man. “And, Mr. Zhongli, you ought to earn my trust back,” said Hu Tao. “You broke my vase.”

He didn’t really, but he couldn’t be arsed to argue. “I suppose that is… warranted.”

Zhongli, who really was the only person who had anything to lose, kept the egg safely tucked in his pocket. He wouldn’t say his job was on the line, per se, because he was an excellent worker—and it’d be a shame if Hu Tao were to let go of someone with such historical knowledge as he did—but he did have to own up to some repercussions, just for the hell of it.

Zhongli just wasn’t exactly the best at preservation as he was at destruction.

It’s like Hu Tao was asking for the egg to be destroyed. Zhongli, over the course of his years, had only taken care of one thing consistently, and it was his gnosis—and he gave that away, too! So what the hell.

Xingqiu was dismissed elsewhere by [Name]—he said something about curling up somewhere with a good book at a restaurant—with his egg in hand.

And [Name] cooked their egg when Hu Tao wasn’t looking.

[Name] was in the Wanmin Restaurant, where there was an open kitchen for them to use. Zhongli had bumped into them when he was on his way to buy something from said restaurant, and he liked neither the look in [Name]’s eye nor the egg in their hand. He decided to follow them in.

Zhongli hovered over [Name]’s shoulder, where [Name] was crouched and working at the pan and fanning the flames. They seemed less concerned about Zhongli and more involved in their newfound breakfast.

“Master [Name],” warned Zhongli halfheartedly. “Director Hu will be mad.”

“Oh, Rex Lapis,” swore [Name] as Zhongli startled them. Zhongli apologized. [Name] waved Zhongli off, and they went to the other side of the kitchen to rummage for spices. Zhongli thought it was strange that Chef Mao said little about the young master hanging around in the kitchen.  Zhongli had only seen traveler Lumine enter the Wanmin Restaurant kitchen to cook, and to see [Name] try their hand at it was odd. 

He’d also seen Lumine accidentally set herself on fire while standing too close to the flames, so there was that.

Zhongli opened his mouth, almost instinctively answering to Rex Lapis. He closed it. Then he said, “Would you like it if someone swore on your name?”

[Name] didn’t cease their movements. “What a strange question. I always thought you were more skeptical—or secular, even.”

Rex Lapis couldn’t deign an answer. 

Did he really seem like that? Maybe to [Name]—who was new to Liyue and didn’t know him well as others did. Then again, [Name] hadn’t really looked at him yet or talked to him without their typical sarcasm. Even now, [Name]’s back was turned to Zhongli, and [Name] was focused on the pan over the fire.

It’d be nice to get to know [Name] better, as they were imperative to the development of Liyue and its economy. Speaking of the economy, turns out relinquishing his Gnosis—the very thing that created money in Teyvat—had some questionable economic consequences. 

Whoops.

Zhongli cleared his throat. Since he was here, overseeing [Name] doing their monkey business, then he might as well inquire a bit. “If you were not going to eat the egg that you were trusted with, how would you go about preserving it?”

“Ummm,” said [Name]. They blew out a breath. It looked as if they hadn’t given it much thought. “That is a good question. Have you ever needed to take care of something before?”

“Of course,” said Zhongli. “It just never turns out well.”

[Name] went quiet. Obviously they didn’t know how to answer that. [Name] patted Zhongli’s shoulder. “Ah, uh, there’s always a first time for everything—even for old relics like you.”

“Relic already implies age, so saying ‘old relic’ is kind of redundant—”

“Okay, Mr. Zhongli,” said [Name], and they patted him once more before refocusing on the pan. The master of the Wang Commerce Guild cracked the egg and watched the yolk sizzle on the hot pan. They added their spices and crossed their arms. Zhongli could only mourn for [Name]’s egg-child whereas [Name] seemed largely indifferent.

Zhongli patted his pocket where his egg was. “I think I’ll just keep it in a safe place for now. Or on my person. Maybe I’ll hide it in plain sight.”

“You know, my egg could always use a friend on the pan.”

“No, thank you.”

[Name] stretched a bit. Their egg was starting to golden at the edges. “Don’t sweat it, Mr. Zhongli. If worse comes to worst, you could always climb a tree and replace your egg.”

“That wouldn’t be very honest of me.”

“Right.” For a moment, they stood in silence while [Name]’s egg fizzled and popped from the heat. Then [Name] noticed Zhongli staring at their egg. “Do you want to split?”

 

---

[NAME] propped their Kamera up so that it faced the vast sea of Liyue Harbor. They looked through the lenses, then they bobbed their head up to look at the sea. Archons, there really was nothing but blue out there.

Dissatisfied, unsatisfied, and anything but satisfied, [Name] let out a weary sigh.

After sharing an egg with Zhongli earlier today, [Name] left the bumbling man to his ways. If he chose to spend his time caring for an egg because his boss told him to, that was on him. [Name] just knew that there were better things to do, like take photos of the ocean and then hate the view and then be frustrated.

[Name] bent down to look through the lenses again. However, to their dismay, an ignorant dockworker set a heavy crate right in front of their Kamera, obscuring the boring view of the ocean. [Name] lifted their head up angrily.

“Hello?” they said to the dockworker.

The dockworker said, “Hi.”

[Name] grumbled and picked up their Kamera. They ambled elsewhere, where they wouldn’t get disturbed by dockworkers. 

Liyue, the city itself, was very beautiful; there was not a single thing that didn’t shine with tradition and value—but if everything was beautiful, then there was nothing that really stood out. It was up to [Name] to take something and make it stand out in their work.

They wanted to make art—or something. [Name] already tried sculpting a particular building, but it turned out kind of ugly so they tossed it. Rather than imitating Liyue, [Name] figured it was better to capture Liyue in motion through film.

Liyue was just so vibrant, and [Name] loved it. But could they photograph? When [Name] was little, they saw Liyue as a hub of everything, as a city touched by its god. They wanted to capture that, put it in the little Kamera, and go about their merry way.

Archons, the want to create was so frustrating.

The harbor’s merchants chatted and yelled, as if they wanted [Name]’s attention only. New ships docked at the harbor. People swarmed in and out of the boats, and citizens laughed in congregated groups about the miscellaneous. The harbor was always moving, shifting, and unraveling. It was impossible for one to not stop and gaze at Liyue’s movement.

It had already been a month or so since their arrival, and they hadn’t made one thing. [Name] was beginning to think they were in an art block (but they found it easier on their soul if they blamed an outside party, like the entirety of Liyue as a whole or Lu).

[Name] decided to go to the buildings near Mt. Tianheng, as maybe there, they could get a better view of Liyue from above. And the Qixing took residence up there as well. It wouldn’t be so bad to take a peek.

As they passed through on a bridge, they saw the traveler who arrested them standing in the pond the bridge was built over.

The people of Liyue didn’t seem to mind the girl at all, and they continued about their business. Some even acted as if the traveler wasn’t there in the first place. The traveler—Lumine, as [Name] learned her name was—sploshed around in the pond with the flora. Her skirts were bunched up around her thighs as she lurched forward to catch a fish in the water.

Lumine picked up a lotus head while she was at it. Was it legal to pick flora and fauna from Liyue gardens? [Name] didn’t think so, but Lumine was happily helping herself to it anyway.

“Hey, uh,” said [Name]. “What are you up to?”

The teenage girl looked up from her harvesting. Lumine let out a quick oh when she realized it was [Name] talking to her. “Oh, it’s you, criminal. I’m playing pirates right now with the kids down by the harbor. They said they needed lotus heads for treasure.”

“Aww, that’s cute,” said [Name]. “Where’s your troll friend?”

“Paimon?” went Lumine. She scratched her head, and the flower wedged in between her locks wilted a bit. “Ah, she’s… somewhere. When I do this commissions and quests she tends to disappear elsewhere—which is fine. Is there anything you need help with, though? It looks like you’re carrying an interesting Kamera.”

[Name] raised their brows. “You’ve seen a Kamera before?”

“Yes, I’m a traveler! I’m traveling to find my brother, that is,” said Lumine. “I’ve come across a merchant or two that sells Kameras, and I have one myself though it’s less intricate than the one you’re holding.”

“I did a bit of studying in Fontaine before I”—[Name] decided to humor Lumine—“succumbed to the criminal lifestyle.” Lumine nodded as if this was only expected. “Fontaine is filled with art, if you’re ever interested in traveling there… traveler.”

“Thank you,” said Lumine. “But, um, as I was saying—do you need any help?”

[Name] noticed that Lumine never failed to overly extend herself to help others, which was strange, and still kept her brother as somewhat of a priority. [Name] would never help any of their fellow adopted siblings. [Name] traveled to Mondstadt last year for the Ludi Harpastum for their younger sister, and it was not fun.

“Actually, yes,” said [Name]. “It hasn’t been long since my arrival to Liyue, and I need my memory jogged a bit. I want to take some photos of the beautiful sights here, but I don’t really know where to start.”

Lumine brightened up. She then got out of the water and stood on the bridge with her skirt soaking wet and dripping on the stone. [Name] turned to see if any other Liyue citizens were seeing this. [Name] thought about buying a towel for Lumine.

“You’re very pretty,” offered [Name] weakly.

The traveler circled [Name], then stopped in front of them. She took out their Kamera (which was a Kamera of fine quality, [Name] had to admit) and snapped a photo of her with [Name]. [Name] was kind of stunned—too stunned to say anything about what just happened.

It was then Lumine jogged off in the other direction with little care. 

There were no words of confirmation or agreement. [Name] could respect that, but they were still confused.

“Am I supposed to follow you?” asked [Name]. [Name] started speed-walking to catch up to the girl. They awkwardly fumbled past the other people around them. “Could you slow down a bit? Where are we going?”

 

---

XINGQIU put his egg in a jar.

Xingqiu thought he was an exceptionally bright boy, and when he came across the empty jar that he borrowed from Xiangling of the Wanmin Restaurant, he thought it would be brilliant to keep the egg all safe and sound in there. Xiangling said that jars were natural for preservation and keeping things locked up.

But the problem was that when Xingqiu had put the egg inside the jar, he couldn’t exactly open the jar to get the egg out.

It was stupid, and it really shouldn’t have been that hard. Xingqiu tried everything. He was trained in the Guhua Arts, and he was the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. He had plenty to his name, but for some reason, all sense of titles and strength was lost when it came to this ugly jar.

Xingqiu glared at the jar in front of him, seated nicely and perfectly on the table of Third-Round Knockout.

He was pissed.

Before this, he tried to open the jar with his raw fifteen-year-old strength, but all efforts of his were fruitless. Xingqiu, of course, hadn’t asked anyone else, because this was his punishment to bear. Hu Tao wanted Xingqiu to take care of this egg, and if Xingqiu couldn’t get the egg out of the jar, what kind of friend and hero was he?

Xingqiu let out a sigh—and then a morbid idea popped in his head. 

He stood up. He politely tucked the chair back in before looking in both directions to see if anyone was looking at him. No waitress, no storyteller, no boss… okay, good.

Xingqiu stilled himself, and he channeled the energy from his Vision. Then he materialized his sword of choice in front of him. His opponent, the jar, stared back at him with mocking eyes. Xingqiu’s brow twitched as he tried to keep his composure.

“Raincutter,” he said. 

Four swords made of pure rainwater materialized above his head, circling, waiting for him to strike so they could support him. Xingqiu took a step back from the jar, and he struck the ground with his sword. His rainswords followed in suit, and the swords hit the jar clean off the table.

The jar bounced to the ground from the impact.

“What the fuck?” came a voice from behind Xingqiu.

Xingqiu whirled around, his sword dematerializing but his rainswords still hovering above him. Xingqiu was greeted with Chongyun, his best friend in Liyue, whom he liked to play pranks on from time to time.

Chongyun was Xingqiu’s age, but Xingqiu often found himself comparing his voice to Chongyun’s. Xingqiu wished his voice was as cool as Chongyun’s. Xingqiu liked Chongyun’s voice lots, actually. Chongyun bore pale blue hair that stuck out in unnatural places and permanently heavy-lidded eyes that always made him look like he didn’t care. But Chongyun cared a lot actually.

He came from a family of exorcists, and he always was by Xingqiu’s side whenever he wasn’t helping others with their spiritual calamities. Chongyun’s respective Cryo Vision was planted right on his hip, matching with Xingqiu’s Hydro Vision.

“Xingqiu, what are you doing?” asked Chongyun. 

Xingqiu cleared his throat. “Uh. Reading.”

Chongyun strolled over to the table Xingqiu was sitting at. He noticed the dropped jar and picked it up. The jar was sopping wet, but to Xingqiu’s distaste, it was still intact out of all things. Xingqiu prided himself over his Guhua Arts, and he could only feel disappointed in himself.

“What did this jar do to you?” Chongyun asked. “And why is there an egg inside it? Xingqiu? Bro?”

“It’s Xiangling’s jar,” explained Xingqiu. His rainswords overhead disappeared, and Xingqiu felt refreshed and much better now that Chongyun was here—but he was still upset about the jar. “Director Hu wanted me to take care of that egg as if it were my own child, so I put it somewhere safe.”

“Would you seriously put your own child in a jar?”

Xingqiu tried to find a feasible answer. “For the sake of it’s safety, I might.”

“Right,” said Chongyun suspiciously. “And your baby is an ‘it.’”

“Chongyun!” said Xingqiu. He pulled Chongyun close to him and motioned to the jar. “You try opening it. I have to give it over to Director Hu soon, and I don’t think she’d want it in a jar. I, and as much as I hate to admit it, can’t open that thing for the life of me.”

Chongyun looked wholly unbothered. “It’s just a jar.”

“Okay, so open it.”

“Fine. I will.”

Chongyun wiped the wet jar on his exorcist clothes until it was nice and dry. Then he tried to pry it open. He worked at it for a few seconds, then took a quick break before trying to twist it open. Chongyun doubled over with the jar underneath his arm as he used all of his strength to try and take off the jar’s lid.

“Uh-huh,” said Xingqiu.

“Hold on,” said Chongyun. His pale hands were now red with use. “Give me a few seconds.” Chongyun took deep breaths before trying his hand at the jar again. But whatever he did had little effect on the damned thing. Chongyun, brows furrowed and lip bit, banged the jar harshly against the table. The jar was still perfectly fine, and the egg was untouched, too. “What kind of hell jar…”

Xingqiu had to bite back a smile. “Don’t lose your cool, Chongyun.”

“You know what?” Chongyun asked. Before Xingqiu could answer, Chongyun waved the jar around, and the egg inside rolled around. “This is a demon jar. There could be an evil spirit in here, Xingqiu. Let me exorcise it for you.”

“Wait! Don’t—Don’t do that! What if you break the egg?”

“You threw your rainswords at it,” pointed out Chongyun as he set the jar down on the ground. He made a motion for Xingqiu to back up, and he gave Xingqiu a loose shrug. “I think it can handle a little Chongyun swagger.”

“Never say those words to me again.”

Chongyun raised his fist, and Xingqiu thought he looked absolutely powerful—if he hadn’t been standing in front of Third-Round Knockout trying to open a jar. Chongyun drew his fist down and said, “From whence you came!”

“I really don’t think it’s an evil spi—”

Three giant spirit blades crafted from his Vision’s ice were summoned mid-air, and each blade fell consecutively down upon the poor jar. They exploded upon impact. Xingqiu was surprised the table hadn’t fallen as a casualty to Chongyun’s spirit blades. 

When the dust settled and the chilly frost of the aftermath was gone, the jar was sitting just fine on the ground as if nothing had ever even happened to it.

Chongyun and Xingqiu stood, dumbfounded at the jar.

“I’m going to kick the jar,” said Chongyun. Chongyun was a whisper away from losing it, and when Chongyun lost it, he went into a full craze that lasted for hours. The jar, obviously, said nothing, but it was taunting Chongyun. The egg was fine, thankfully, but it wouldn’t be if Chongyun and his jock skills kicked the jar.

“Don’t kick the jar.”

“I’m going to punt it across Liyue,” he continued, “because if I see this jar with your little egg-baby in it for one more second, I think I’m going to get brain damage.”

“Chongyun!”

 

---

[NAME] and Lumine went all over Liyue Harbor.

[Name] followed Lumine up to Mt. Tianheng, where [Name] was nearly thrown off a cliff by a hilichurl before Lumine had to save them. Then they were at the bridge that connected the urban Liyue Harbor to the ruins of what once was Liyue before the Archon War. [Name] fell down a waterfall at some point in between, and Lumine had to fish them out.

Paimon even came back from the restaurant she was visiting to annoy [Name] and accompany Lumine. 

Although Lumine showed [Name] all of the sights she knew, [Name] just didn’t have the heart to tell Lumine that this trail was leading them to nowhere. As beautiful as Liyue was, there wasn’t a single picture that [Name] captured that satisfied them. The lack of [Name]’s satisfaction unsettled them to an uncomfortable extent.

Sure, they had lots of photos from their near-death experiences with the young traveler, but they really wanted something.

It was hard to explain. They couldn’t explain it.

When Lumine and [Name] went back to the bustling Liyue Harbor when the sun was just about to set, [Name] compensated Lumine for her troubles with 50,000 mora and a good amount of almond tofu. [Name] apologized to Lumine, who responded that [Name] hadn’t bothered her at all (even if she did have to save [Name] from hilichurls two times in a row).

“I hope you find your brother, Lumine,” said [Name]. “You’re a crafty girl, and you’re good at helping people, but sometimes you just have to help yourself and do what you want.”

“How selfish!” commented Paimon.

“Being selfish every once in a while isn’t so bad, is it?”

Lumine thought about it. She nodded in agreement with [Name], who felt as if they accomplished in teaching the young something useful. “I guess not. One time I threw my twin brother into a pool because I wanted his toy sword.”

“Right,” said [Name]. “Okay. Thanks again for your help. I think I’ll just set up my Kamera over there by the Liyue infrastructure to see if I can get any good photos at night. You come to me if you need anything.”

“Sure!” exclaimed Lumine. “Come on, Paimon. Let’s go to Mondstadt.”

“Mondstadt’s a bit far, don’t you think?” asked [Name], but Lumine and Paimon had already disappeared around the corner before [Name]’s words could reach them. They nodded to themself. Lumine, as [Name] learned, didn’t listen to anyone but herself. “Alrighty then.”

[Name] then set up their Kamera perfectly. 

They had done it thousands of times in Fontaine and a hundred times in Liyue. They memorized every rhythm, every gadget, and every prop-up needed for a good still photo. Even if everything on the outside was set up to a tee, whenever [Name] looked through the lenses, [Name]’s little squirmy, unsatisfied heart took over [Name]’s feelings.

So they settled down behind the Kamera and waited for the perfect shot.

The sun’s setting hue made Liyue glow amongst the natural world. Rex Lapis likely built this city from ground up, as he did the cliffs and the mountains. [Name] knew Rex Lapis was a war god, an Archon of mass destruction, but Rex Lapis, in a way, was a creator, too. An artist—just like [Name].

But that was [Name]’s mortal, naive self talking in order to pass the time.

When [Name] was younger, their aunt taught them a lot of things, like how to negotiate and how to be diplomatic when your emotions tell you otherwise; their aunt also taught them things outside of the business realm. Their aunt carved Mondstadt’s moon and Sumeru’s forests in [Name]’s bed frame, and she painted Liyue’s cliffs and great heights on their walls.

[Name] didn’t always want to be an artist, but with reminders of the physical and natural world all around them, reminders that there were places outside of the cushy business life, how could they want to be anything else? 

Then Zhongli walked into the frames of the lenses.

He was very tall, and he boasted a broad frame; Zhongli held himself in a way that was formal, regal, and made him look kingly—[Name] even wondered what king would Zhongli ever be. Zhongli didn’t seem like a man who’d want to be king in the first place, but those people might have been the best sort of kings anyway.

Zhongli’s long hair was tied back as per usual, and the ends of his hair were amber-brown (the kind of amber-brown [Name] would expect to see on fine furniture). But the sun made the tops of his hair look like lines of shooting stars themselves, bright and glowing. His dangling left earring only swayed with the evening wind that had yet to sweep into Liyue in earnest.

He was really something.

Then the consultant turned to look at [Name]’s propped up Kamera.

Through the lenses, [Name] could see that his lashes were thick and dark, almost dusting his fine cheekbones. Burnt orange framed the bottom half of his eyes. His brows were knitted together, and his features stayed refined and sharped, almost like a statue that took hundreds of years of chipping away.

A sense of golden hope began to trickle in [Name]’s dark, dark self, seeping through their ribs and dripping below into their wallowing gut. 

Zhongli felt grander than human but small enough to fit into the mortal world of Liyue. He had all the habits of a mortal—fiddling with his gloves and stroking his chin when he was in deep thought—but there was something about him that seemed otherworldly and eerie. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was something else.

[Name]’s throat went dry, and before they realized it, they had clicked the shutter button of the Kamera.

[Name] shot up from their position and looked Zhongli straight in the eye, flustered. “Oh.”

“Oh,” said the consultant. “Well. You’re finally looking at me.”

“Pardon?” said [Name].

“You hadn’t really looked at me yet—until now, Master [Name],” Zhongli explained. “You’re always looking away or looking preoccupied with something. I take no offense, but it’s nice to finally look at you.”

“I guess I am looking at you now,” said [Name]. They rubbed the back of their neck. “Sorry, I have my Kamera situated here for work. I was taking pictures all around Liyue Harbor today.”

Zhongli raised his brows. “If it’s no bother to you, I can show you around LIyue. Think of it as a personal tour, maybe? Reparations for ‘having you arrested.’”

[Name] beamed. “I’d actually enjoy that, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Just Zhongli.”

“Ah, just [Name], then.”

“I’m on my way to the funeral parlor to report about my egg to Director Hu,” said Zhongli. “Would you like to accompany me? I’m free to wait until you’ve packed all your things up.”

Zhongli talked a lot, thought [Name] then. It wasn’t a bad thing. [Name] liked it. They bowed their head and bit back a smile as they began to clean up their area. It was just one picture, but [Name] felt oddly satisfied about their artistic endeavor of the day. “Yes, I’ll tag along with you—though I won’t have much to deliver to Director Hu. We both know where my egg went.”

There was a small smile coming from the consultant. He gave a pointed glance to [Name]’s machine. “And as for your Kamera—your enthusiasm comes from your days in Fontaine, I assume?”

“You’re quite knowledgeable on everything, Zhongli. It’s a bit unnerving.”

“Knowledgeable?” Zhongli repeated. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“It’s a bad habit. I should kick it.”

“Maybe so,” he said cooly, “but I don’t mind it.”

When Zhongli and [Name] arrived at the funeral parlor, Xingqiu was already standing outside with his egg. Hu Tao was next to him, hands on her hips, grin on her face.

Xingqiu looked absolutely tired with dark circles underneath his eyes; [Name] grew to know Xingqiu as the picture of health on most days, so they wondered what caused his stress today. Was it the egg? His egg looked safe (unlike [Name]’s egg). His egg was seated nicely in a jar in his hands.

Everyone looked close to wrapping it up for the day, but Hu Tao was jumping with excitement and humming to herself a song [Name] couldn’t follow along to. Hu Tao stopped to adjust her hat on her head before coyly playing with a long brown lock.

“Master [Name],” greeted Xingqiu. 

“Hi, Xingqiu,” said [Name]. “Your egg looks cozy in there. Do you need help opening that jar so Director Hu could get a closer look at it?”

Xingqiu made a face, but he still handed the jar over to [Name]’s waiting palm. “Please, that jar is strange. Neither I nor my best friend Chongyun could open that thing. It’s a monster. Chongyun drop-kicked it across Liyue, and it didn’t even dent.”

“It’s a jar, Xingqiu.”

“That’s what Chongyun said, and right now he’s submerging himself in the cold Liyue sea in order to cool his head down—”

Pop!

Xingqiu went quiet.

[Name] had only slightly twisted their wrist and the lid came off easily. They’d opened the jar so swiftly, and Xingqiu could only stare at the now-opened jar that revealed his egg-child.

“It was one of those push-and-twist jars,” said [Name]. They offered the jar and lid back to their disciple. “You’re like, supposed to push the lid down and then twist it open.”

Xingqiu took the jar back silently. He seemed very lost and needed a lot of future contemplation.

“All right, let’s see them!” said Hu Tao. “Your children!” 

Xingqiu showed Director Hu his egg in the jar, wordless. 

Hu Tao nodded eagerly as she held up the egg to the setting sun’s light. She inspected it for any cracks and held her ear to the shell. “This looks very good, Xingqiu! Though, for future reference, I wouldn’t exactly advise putting your child in a jar for safekeeping. And you two…”

[Name] raised their hand. “I ate my egg.”

“I didn’t expect any better,” said Hu Tao.

“Thank you.”

“Mr. Zhongli?”

The consultant stiffened. He cleared his throat, and then he presented his egg. Perfect. It was fine and intact. Hu Tao praised Zhongli, clapping her hands as she did so. “Here is your egg, Director Hu. I hope you can trust me in the future from now on.”

Hu Tao cradled his egg and then giggled. [Name] found her smile contagious. “I’ve always trusted you, Mr. Zhongli! I just wanted to give you a hard time. You and your friends.”

Zhongli paused. “Why would you do that?”

“Just ‘cause?” Hu Tao said. “Doing something just because you want to is a good reason! Master [Name], I think you’d be a good advocator for that! I saw you nearly fall off of Mt. Tianheng earlier today.”

“Rest assured that was definitely not on purpose.”

“It was really funny,” said Hu Tao, and [Name] wilted visibly. “I’ll see you, Mr. Zhongli, for work tomorrow! And Master [Name]—you’re always welcome to swing by and annoy Mr. Zhongli with me. Welcome to Liyue.”

Notes:

im not too sure if i want zhongli/mc to be romantic just yet... it's kind of like an edward/bella situation so imma sit on this a little more 💀💀

Chapter 4: Collided Worlds

Notes:

Zhongli does his best to prevent the 11th Harbinger of the Fatui and [Name] from meeting; everyone is afraid to voice their opinions about [Name]'s new painting.

ZHONGLI was a big fan of rambling. He rambled about art, about Rex Lapis, and about flowers. He enjoyed the sort of history that followed those aforementioned three things. Zhongli, a prominent man in high society and skilled in the art of rambling, was invited to the Pearl Galley by some historians and archeologists so they could chat, with particular regard toward Guizhong.

“Of course, this is just speculation,” said the woman in front of Zhongli, a noteworthy historian with outlandish ideas and theories, “and a big one at that, but who’s to say that Rex Lapis hadn’t corrupted Guizhong in pursuit of power?”

“Why would Rex Lapis do that?” an archaeologist inquired. “Rex Lapis and Guizhong are a pair, two sides to a coin. There are many tablets and ruins around Liyue that say you could never spot one without the other. Where Rex Lapis failed, Guizhong thrived. She was his brain to his brawn, to say the least.”

The historian waved her hand. “That’s what everyone says. History is written by the victors. We know Rex Lapis was a powerful god, and with power, one can only yearn for more strength. It’s only natural that a dragon will covet a phoenix’s feathers.”

“Have you no faith in your own god?” asked the archaeologist. “Many relics prove—Ah, Mr. Zhongli! Forgive us for excluding you from the conversation. What are your thoughts on the corruption of Guizhong?”

Zhongli set down his teacup. “Rex Lapis was selfish and a war god in every sense of the words, indeed, but he did have people he cared about—Guizhong being one of them. Guizhong was very kind and very gentle. It was almost impossible to dislike someone like her.”

The archaeologist looked smug. The historian gave him a rude gesture when she thought Zhongli wasn’t looking.

“As for Guizhong’s corruption, the fault would lie in—” At the corner of Zhongli’s eye, he saw a dark figure fall from the roof of the Pearl Galley and into the water with a heavy splash. Another dark figure followed in suit with a similar splash. Then a third figure with a splash. “[Name]?”

“That’s a new name in history,” muttered the archaeologist.

The historian rolled her eyes. “You imbecile.”

Zhongli excused himself from the table, woefully leaving the nice platter of delicacies in front of him. He wandered over to the edge of the Pearl Galley, where Osial’s sea lapped and licked at the boat’s hull below him. The fellow boat passengers didn’t seem to notice what Zhongli had seen. 

He half-hoped that he’d mistaken his vision. There was no way the guild manager would fall from the sky and into the sea…

[Name], Xingqiu, and the traveler were in the water, doggy-paddling just above the waves. The traveler was giggling, and Xingqiu looked delighted. Lumine swam in circles around [Name] and Xingqiu; [Name] noticed a shadow in the water they swam in and shot their head up. They stopped paddling to wave at the consultant.

“Zhongli!” they called. “Fancy seeing you here. You come here often?”

Zhongli fished out [Name], their apprentice, and the traveler.

He gave them towels since they were drenched by the sea. The smell of seawater was impossible to get out, Zhongli learned, so he only hoped that once [Name] and Xingqiu went back to their homes, they would take pleasant, long, hot baths. It only took seconds for Lumine to pat herself dry, but Xingqiu and [Name] chattered their teeth as they wrapped the towels around themselves tighter like cocoons.

Lumine, Zhongli knew, already had an invitation, so she was running amok on board, yet the people on deck paid no attention to her. She stopped to chat with a few women, and then she moved to a man. Lumine made a disgusted face before climbing up the sides of the boat in order to stand on the Pearl Galley’s balcony.

“Do you have invitations?” Zhongli asked as he drew [Name] and Xingqiu to the side. If the passengers cared little for Lumine’s antics, then surely they wouldn’t notice two sopping additions to the crew. “I don’t believe you can get on the Pearl Galley without invitations…”

“‘Course, we do,” said [Name]. “We both got them.” They withdrew the soggy invitation from their back pocket, and Xingqiu showed Zhongli his equally soggy invitation. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Zhongli, but then again, you’re strangely everywhere.”

“Pinghai. You could have talked to Pinghai by the harbor to row you over here. How did you even end up on the roof before the deck? Normal people don’t fall from the sky in order to get to the Pearl Galley.”

“We know about Pinghai,” Xingqiu said. “But Master [Name] and I saw the traveler. I’ve always wanted to try out her wings—like the ones she brought from Mondstadt!—so she taught us how to use them. We went to a cliff that’s a bit further from here and flew our way here.”

“And then you fell,” Zhongli finished the story.

“And then we fell,” [Name] cheerfully repeated.

Zhongli could only give [Name] a tight-lipped smile. He sighed, unable to find rhyme to [Name]’s reason. “You really are dauntless, aren’t you, [Name]? Some fear ought to be good for your soul.”

“Oh, I have plenty of fears.”

“Name one.”

[Name] made a big show of thinking about it. They stroked their chin and bobbed their head up and down. “I suppose getting squashed under a tree branch would be a reasonable fear. You never know when that can happen. What about you, Xingqiu?”

“Anything with carrots,” replied their apprentice. [Name] made a face as if they understood. Zhongli crossed his arms and for a moment regretted that he’d given them towels. “They’re foul and unpleasant.”

“Shit’s nasty.”

“Right?”

Lumine leapt down from the balcony and landed next to Xingqiu. She gave the three of them a big grin before waving. “I take it you two are now situated here? Oh, thank you, Master [Name], for the mora.” Zhongli watched [Name] hand Lumine a hefty bag. Zhongli numbly patted his empty pockets. “I’ll be sure to treat Paimon plenty with this!”

“No worries, traveler,” said [Name]. “Come visit me anytime, and I’ll be sure to pay you well.”

With those words, the young girl jumped overboard and into the sea. 

Zhongli curiously looked beyond the railing to see if Lumine was genuinely going to paddle to shore, but to his surprise (but not really—Lumine had always been unpredictable), Lumine was not in the sea of Liyue. He frowned before turning back to [Name] and Xingqiu.

“You’re welcome to join me back at my table once you’re both dry and well,” offered Zhongli. He found himself rather fond of the guild manager (despite their wicked ways) and their apprentice. Maybe it was the way [Name] looked at him. Or maybe it was the way they grinned after doing something horribly, abysmally reckless. “We’re discussing Guizhong’s corruption and Rex Lapis’ role in it all.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Zhongli,” said Xingqiu. He tugged on [Name]’s arm and pulled them over to the other side of the Pearl Galley’s deck. “Come on, Master, you ought to try those snacks offered over there…”

Before Zhongli could retreat back to his table, he heard the menace before he could see him.

“Why, I’m quite liking it here!” exclaimed the menace. “Liyue has plenty to offer, indeed!”

The menace being Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger of the Fatui. 

What the hell was he doing on this boat? The Pearl Galley had restricted access, though it wouldn’t be hard for the Fatui to gain entry onboard, nevertheless a Harbinger of the Fatui. The Harbingers were the positions of the upper echelons of Fatui society and directly served Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon and Zhongli’s former coworker. They were also a resident pain in the ass.

Tartaglia was a fine man who must have been [Name]’s age or even younger. He stood at a tall height with broad shoulders, indicating his years at war and his refined battle skills; Tartaglia bore a charming, foxy smile with tousled orange hair that could never smooth down. Tartaglia’s back was turned to Zhongli as he praised the wonderful cuisine of Liyue, as if he hadn’t tried to annihilate Liyue Harbor two months ago.

Zhongli then decided that it would be terrible if Tartaglia, the blood-hungry hound of Tsaritsa, and [Name], whose only god was their own entertainment, were to meet.

Lumine fought Tartaglia once a week—couldn’t Tartaglia be satiated with that and mind his own business? Of course, it wasn’t like Tartaglia to be satisfied. People like him coveted perfection in their craft.

People like Tartaglia conquered worlds, and maybe [Name] would like that. Maybe [Name] would like him.

But for the sake of Liyue and for the sanity of everyone, Zhongli could not let Tartaglia and [Name] meet! It would bring about a second ruining to Liyue. Who knows what havoc they could wreak if they were left without parental supervision?

The Harbinger, through looks alone, could sweep one off one’s feet or strike fear in one’s soul. It was no doubt Tartaglia was handsome, but Zhongli had seen handsomer people in his lifetime. Though Zhongli ought to give Tartaglia some credit, since whenever he and the Harbinger went on an outing, Tartaglia had no trouble footing the bill.

Zhongli turned to avoid a mess and to hopefully escort [Name] from the Pearl Galley to elsewhere, but as if on cue, a jovial tone cut through the Pearl Galley: “If it isn’t Mr. Zhongli!” And if that wasn’t enough, the owner of said jovial voice sauntered cooly over to Zhongli with long strides and jeered quietly, “Or should I say Rex La—”

“Childe,” said Zhongli.

Tartaglia forgoed any hint of malice, exchanging it with a friendly smile. “Mr. Zhongli. Enjoying your mortal life, I take it? I don’t see how standing around and idly chatting could be any fun, but to each their own.”

“And your idea of fun lies in the carnage and wreckage of all your opponents?”

The man shrugged loosely. “And ice fishing.”

“Right,” said Zhongli. He overheard Xingqiu and [Name] seating themselves at a table. Zhongli shifted his body so that he covered the two excited mortals from Childe’s view. He thanked [Name] for not wearing their atrocious hat today. “Say, Childe, would you like to go out for drinks sometime? Is right now doable for you?”

Tartaglia was taken aback. “I’d be delighted, first of all, but what prompted such a—”

“It’s on me this time, Childe.”

“Really?”

 

---

“Alright, Lu,” said [NAME] as they turned the canvas to face their secretary, “what do you think?”

Lu looked up from his clipboard to spare a glance at the canvas. He looked back down. Then he did a double-take as he looked at the canvas again as if he hadn’t looked at it properly the first time. Lu knitted his brows together. “That’s… certainly a painting.”

“Is it a good one?” pressed [Name].

The canvas was sizable, around the size of [Name]’s torso. While it wasn’t difficult to lug around, the canvas still took some time to fill up that blank space with paint. [Name] would have liked for the painting to be perfect, as it was a gift, but they could settle for near perfection.

“It’s definitely a painting, that’s for sure.” Lu pressed his board against his abdomen. He peeked through the windows of [Name]’s grand office. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to take my break now.”

“You just took your break an hour ago?”

“I’m taking another one.”

“Lu?”

[Name] watched their secretary leave. [Name]’s office was awfully lonely without the quick and sharp-tongued secretary around. The closest thing [Name] had to company were the wide windows behind [Name]’s desk that showed the view below of swarming people that jostled and hollered during the busier hours of the day.

They flipped the canvas and inspected it themself. “It doesn’t look too bad,” murmured [Name]. “I think it looks quite nice. Right? Maybe I need to look at it again after a few hours have passed… or I need an outside opinion!”

Lu wasn’t a reliable critic anyway—he hated anything [Name] did. Well, maybe not hated, but he disliked the things [Name] did to a certain extent. 

He hated the way [Name] lined their covered canvases along the walls of the office, and he would complain how bookshelves filled with [Name]’s accomplished studies would be a better substitute. Lu didn’t like [Name]’s sense of style, which seemed to rotate with their mood, and they had plenty of moods as they did hats.

[Name] left the guild building with an agenda.

They marched down the busy streets of Liyue, their canvas under their arm and clothes messy from a hard day’s work. They didn’t know what exactly they were seeking. Or who they were seeking. [Name] hadn’t the chance to make new friends since they were busy with work. This was the perfect time to settle for some friendlier connections outside of work.

[Name] spotted Zhongli in the crowd, right outside of the funeral parlor. They went to greet him and ask about their painting, as Zhongli was knowledgeable in all sorts of things, and artwork shouldn’t be out of the question. Zhongli noticed them, too, but he looked to the person on his right—a tall boy with ruddy-orange curls and fair skin—before turning away. He and his friend disappeared.

Oh, all right.

[Name]’s feelings were a bit hurt, but maybe Zhongli was busy. They shouldn’t bother him; after all, he might have been cherishing his break from work. Hu Tao was a menace when it came to the funeral parlor deals. 

The guild manager started toward the harbor.

“Right,” said [Name] to the poor dockworker they had encountered when strolling through the harbor. They propped up their painting. They beamed, proud. “What do you think? Do you feel anything?”

“Good?” the dockworker weakly supplied.

[Name]’s face fell. They packed up their canvas, and the dockworker sighed in relief; however, before [Name] left, they harshly whispered, “I hope you die,” and then harrumphed. They ought to find someone better, someone who would say more than ‘good.’  Maybe it was selfish for [Name] to want so, but [Name] had no problem being selfish.

Back in Fontaine, [Name]’s fellow art group had no problem offering critique and praise. Fontaine was a nice place! [Name] frequently wrote letters to their colleagues and, for Lumine, asked about her brother and if they’d seen him around. Their response letters haven’t arrived as of yet, but [Name] was excited to receive them.

The dockworker’s poor response left [Name] wondering if their painting really was bad. [Name] couldn’t help but study the canvas every now and then, as if the painting would change when they hadn’t been looking. 

The painting was a wedding gift for their little sister’s wedding, an event that would take place in a few weeks. If the painting was not up to standards, [Name] had a little more time to adjust details here and there, but it took a decent amount of time to ship this delicate piece of work from nation to nation. It would be better if [Name] were to send it off now, but they needed more opinions on the matter.

[Name] wasn’t blood-related to any of their siblings, and their lineage was all over Teyvat. [Name]’s parents adopted three children all in all—[Name], their little sister, and their older brother. 

It wouldn’t be wrong to consider [Name] a businessperson through and through. [Name] was sent away to their aunt, where they learned the art of trade under her; their little sister studied in Sumeru with [Name]’s uncle, as [Name]’s family sponsored a considerably large library there; their eldest brother stayed with [Name]’s parents, and they settled in Natlan until [Name]’s parents’ passing.

“Master [Name]!” a familiar voice rang through the streets of Liyue. [Name]’s hopes rose up once again. Xingqiu would no doubt be honest about [Name]’s painting.

“Xingqiu!” exclaimed [Name]. Xingqiu was seated at the Wanmin Restaurant and helping himself to the feast he ordered—no doubt with the Feiyun Commerce Guild funds. His legs were crossed and his chopsticks poised. [Name] sat across from him. “Good to see you! Can you do me a favor?”

Xingqiu perked up. “Certainly!”

[Name] showed him the canvas. “What do you think?”

“Wow…” said Xingqiu as he took the canvas from [Name]’s hands. He examined it well. “Are you going to hang this in your office? It’d be a great piece and addition to the interior. With your other ten canvases and your fifteen sculptures.”

“Thank you, but it’s a wedding gift.”

“Oh, you’re giving it to someone?”

“Yes,” said [Name]. “Why?”

Xingqiu handed the canvas over to [Name]. “It’s well done, master. Really, it is. Your work is the best I’ve ever seen. I admire you a lot, and I enjoy the adventures that you allow me to embark on with you. I wouldn’t trade my experiences with you for the world. When the time comes, I hope that I can create a piece of art with you that’ll endure the tests of time—”

[Name] stood up. “This is getting nowhere. Xingqiu, if it’s ugly, just tell me.”

“It’s not ugly,” protested Xingqiu. He turned to a young girl behind the counter of the Wanmin Restaurant. “Xiangling, come look at Master [Name]’s painting! Isn’t it exquisite? It ought to have poems written about it.”

“Well, now you’re just feeding my ego.”

Xiangling, a young girl around Lumine’s age, stopped by Xingqiu’s table. Her dark hair was looped in braids like bear ears. Like Xingqiu, her Pyro Vision was saddled on her hip—must have been Liyue fashion—yet unlike Xingqiu, her bangs were cut clean. She beamed at the sight of Xingqiu eating one of her dishes.

Her father owned Wanmin Restaurant, and Xiangling’s cooking skills were renowned around Mondstadt and Teyvat—the Wanmin Restaurant had piles and piles of customers every time [Name] saw it. Luckily, Xiangling was a close friend of Xingqiu, and he was able to secure seats easily. He told [Name] about Xiangling’s culinary experiments and how he swiftly chucked Chongyun in his stead to try the dishes. 

Even with Xiangling’s oddities, she was still amicable. A perfect friend for Xingqiu.

Xiangling planted a hand on her hip and considered [Name]’s painting. Xiangling cocked her head. “Master [Name]! You really have a skill for this sort of thing. I could never do this… but I have to wonder… what is that thing ov—”

Xingqiu sprung up and clasped a hand over Xiangling’s mouth.

Cowards.

[Name] sighed. They pressed mora into Xingqiu’s hand. At least Xingqiu attempted to make [Name] feel better about themself. It was much appreciated. Xingqiu looked confused and bewildered at [Name]’s gesture.

“Here,” said [Name]. “Buy yourself somethin’ nice, kid. Thanks for trying.”

“This is one mora. I can’t buy anything with this—”

[Name] picked up their canvas and left their apprentice and his friend at the Wanmin Restaurant. 

If they were out, they may as well pick up something from Bubu Pharmacy. They needed Qingxin flowers, as they wanted to try pressing flowers in between books—a practice that originated from Inazuma. [Name] had seen how pretty the results were and decided it was worth trying out with the local flora.

Bubu Pharmacy was a fine institute with grand infrastructure. Green tiled roofs that were slanted pointed away from the building’s entrance and its walls were painted a fading red; the building towered over [Name], making them feel very small for the first time. Bubu Pharmacy was far away from the markets of Liyue, and the crowd was beginning to thin. [Name] held their canvas close to their chest and climbed up the steps into the entrance.

Before they could enter, they saw Zhongli again, idly loitering outside. His hands were clasped behind his back as he studied the hanging curtains of the pharmacy. It almost seemed as if he were waiting for someone.

It looked like he wasn’t busy anymore.

“Zhongli?” asked [Name]. “Hey.”

Zhongli whirled around. There he was—all regal features and handsome, inquisitive looks. His brows rose in surprise. “[Name],” he said. “What are you doing here? The sun’s setting. You ought to head back home.”

[Name] could feel a comical question mark rising above their head. “You’ve never reminded me about my curfew before. What’s all this about?”

“First time for everything,” he answered.

“In any case, I’m here for Qingxin flowers before I head home to the guild building.”

Zhongli, the gentleman he was, straightened up. He stopped [Name] from entering the pharmacy, and he shot a look inside to check something. “Let me get that for you, then. I wouldn’t mind it at all. You must be very tired. It seems you’ve been carrying around that canvas all day, too.”

Now that the consultant had mentioned it, [Name]’s arms did feel very weary. Their concern over everyone’s opinion on their painting must have outweighed their focus on their physical strength. [Name] set down their canvas against the pharmacy’s pillar.

Zhongli was perceptive—a fact [Name] found endearing in him. If he hadn’t called attention to it, [Name] might have carried the canvas until their limbs had fallen off. 

“I would appreciate it. Thank you,” said [Name]. They fished out a bag of mora. “Here. This should be enough for 10 Qingxin.”

With [Name]’s mora, Zhongli ambled inside. [Name] was a bit glad Zhongli hadn’t asked them about the painting; if he had, [Name] would have to go through immense trauma again. Just as Zhongli disappeared, another figure left the pharmacy quickly, almost in a blink. 

This figure was Zhongli’s friend for sure. 

Tall, handsome, blue-eyed—he was the sort of man people wrote books about. Xingqiu ought to get a look at this guy and write him as a starring character. Zhongli’s friend’s shoulders were squared with pride, and he carried a bag of violetgrass. Ah, so Zhongli must have been waiting for him.

“Agh, did that bastard go inside?” the friend rhetorically asked. Just as he was about to follow Zhongli, he stopped and noticed [Name]’s canvas. “Oh, huh. Interesting.”

[Name] wilted. “Thank you.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that as a bad thing,” said the friend as he waved his bunch of violetgrass. “If it were bad, I would have said so—and even if I did say it was bad, you could have disregarded my opinion altogether. I’m no artist.”

“It still hurts,” [Name] said.

Zhongli’s friend laughed. “You look like you’ve been through hell and back, though. Really! If it makes you feel any better, I have to say this is one of my favorite pieces, and I’ve been all over Teyvat.”

“You have to be joking.”

“I’m not.”

[Name] squinted their eyes.

“On Tsaritsa, dude, I’m not.” The friend stalked over to get a closer look at the painting. He hefted it up to the lantern hanging outside of the pharmacy. “You must have drawn this from the cliffs of Liyue, around the more rural parts of this nation. You draw nature so delicately; it’s fascinating. As for the fire-breathing panda…”

Earlier this month, [Name] had elected to go back to one of the places Lumine suggested was the best place for viewpoints. They painted the view for their little sister, as a sort of souvenir. Now, [Name]’s little sister was as odd as [Name]—she had a penchant toward animals.

So [Name] took one of Liyue’s prized animals and combined it with their sister’s fiery personality. And it ended up as a fire-breathing panda. 

[Name]’s animal-painting skills weren’t that good, they had to admit as well. The painting consisted of Liyue’s beautiful view with lush grass and tall bamboo trees, with the salty ocean softly lapping at Liyue’s shore—and a child’s drawing of a bear with black and white spots that had fire coming out of its mouth smack in the middle.

“... it looks indeed ferocious. I love it.”

“Really?” [Name]’s voice sounded weak.

“Yes!” said the man. He then placed down the painting. “Who told you that the painting didn’t look good? If you were truly vengeful, you could always challenge them to a fight! Once you win, I doubt they would say anything more.”

[Name] rubbed their neck. “To be honest, I think I would lose.”

“Don’t think that way. You just need a lot of spirit,” said the friend. He crossed his arms. “And training. But mostly spirit! Now, be honest and look at me. Do you think I would win if I fought that panda in the drawing?”

[Name] must have not heard him right. “Pardon?”

“Me versus that fire-breathing panda thing. Do you think I would win?”

A smile broke out on [Name]’s face, and it might have been the first smile they’ve made in half a day. “Well, the panda can breathe fire, so I’m going to have to say the panda takes this battle.”

“That can’t be!” The man showed [Name] his Hydro Vision, as clear as day. “Have you changed your mind now?”

“Elements aside,” said [Name], “I don’t think you could fight a bear with your own two hands.”

“Sure, I can.”

“Right. Call me when you fight a bear and wrestle it.”

“I will.” Zhongli’s friend stuck out his gloved hand. “I’m Ta—”

Zhongli exited the pharmacy with [Name]’s desired flowers in hand. He saw his friend and [Name] shaking hands eagerly. Zhongli dropped the Qingxin he was holding, and the bag sat in a sad heap on the floor. He looked from his friend to [Name], then [Name] to his friend.

“Oh,” said Zhongli very softly. “Liyue is going to die.”

Chapter 5: Lantern Rite

Summary:

Zhongli is determined to have [Name] experience the best Lantern Rite ever; the lone Yaksha makes an appearance.

“People say Lantern Rite is so fun,” said Lumine, “but all I’ve done is run errands for people I’ve never met or errands for people I have met who suddenly have new problems.”

Lumine’s lunch buddy, the indelible and strange [NAME], nodded in understanding. It had been years since [Name] saw Liyue’s famed Lantern Rite for themself; when they were away in Fontaine, their aunt often sent postcards with poor descriptions of the festivities. [Name]’s aunt couldn’t go a paragraph without the words ‘fiscal’ or ‘profit.’ 

The traveler then noticed [Name]’s dish of choice. “Is that plain rice? Like, just white rice?”

[Name] paused and slowly responded, “Yes.”

“Huh,” said Lumine. “How odd.”

“My stomach hurts,” [Name] felt compelled to say. They shook their head—they shouldn’t get riled up over what a sixteen-year-old thinks of their dish. “I think Lantern Rite will be okay. I love the idea of celebrations, but I can’t bring myself to go crazy over it, you know? It’s as you said. There’s so much to get done, and then when all the fun is over, someone has to clean up.”

But still! If anything, Lumine was the odd one! Another world headass. There was nothing strange about eating plain white rice. [Name] pushed away their meal.

“It’ll probably be me,” Lumine said bitterly. “Ugh, all these people are always asking so much of me. I have to do my daily commissions from the Adventurers' Guild, then I have to complete three requests and three bounties for Mondstadt and Liyue, and then I have to traverse into ruins so I can help my party get stronger! What makes Hertha think a sixteen-year-old girl with a flimsy sword can fight a Ruin Hunter? And then some ruins have three Abyss Mages! I’m ganged up on! This is borderline harassment.”

“Ah,” said [Name], who was Vision-less and did not have to deal with these problems. “Good luck.”

Lumine shot [Name] a thankful look. “You’re the only person in this city who listens to me.”

[Name] pulled back their bowl of rice. Lumine’s nose wrinkled. There it was. The judgmental sixteen-year-old look. [Name] inched the bowl back to its original position. There was no escaping a teenager’s perception.

Xiangling popped up next to Lumine. The little chef was everywhere these days. It might have been because of Lantern Rite. [Name] was meeting new people every day, through work and through mutuals. Earlier, they might have been glad for the opportunity to network a bit, but Liyue was all hustle and bustle now (not that it wasn’t before), and [Name] was out of bustle.

The city had banners strewn up, zig-zagging across the sky, and lanterns were hung everywhere, almost like fireflies in the night. [Name] couldn’t go an hour without tripping over boxes filled with more designs. Stalls down at the harbor were being constructed, filled with games and whatnot, and food of all spices and smells wafted in the streets—even more odorous than the perfume shop in the back alleys that typically haunted Liyue’s airways.

Liyue was fairly big, and the city was filled with people. Now, in this time of great joy and celebration, it felt congested and stuffed to the brim with decorations, and there were more decorations to be unboxed. [Name] almost felt like a mouse in a very large trap.

Xiangling clutched Lumine’s shoulders and grinned brightly. Lumine was startled as she nearly dropped her chopsticks. Xiangling blew the bangs from her face. “Ah, traveler! Are you free?”

Lumine immediately went, “No.”

“You look free!”

“I’m… entertaining Master [Name] right now,” said the traveler.

[Name] waved their hand.

They’d rather be entertained by Lumine the traveler than deal with Secretary Lu. With the big festivities coming up, the Wang Commerce Guild was facilitating trade throughout the nations in order to scrape together materials for the public decorations.

The Wang Commerce Guild formed a contract with Wang’ya, who slaved at the preparations of Lantern Rite. It was because of her did Liyue look like it did now. It was truly a city of transition.

Xiangling’s eyes fell to [Name]’s bowl of rice. She raised a brow. “Are you eating plain rice in a bowl?”

[Name] said, “No.”

“This is Liyue! There’s loads more food to be eaten. How about this? I make you an amazing, delicious, tasty meal from the extinct Springvale boar I caught during my rendezvous in Mondstadt!”

Extinct? Girl…

“Not only is it Liyue, but it’s Lantern Rite, Master [Name],” prodded Xiangling as she pulled [Name]’s bowl away from the guild manager. “Ba is sending me out on an expedition to get some ingredients so we can set up our stall and stuff. There will be plenty of food later tonight when we all light up our Xiao Lanterns.”

“Oh, Xiao Lanterns!” exclaimed [Name]. “I haven’t touched one of those since I was a kid! It’ll be fun to do that again.”

Lumine tucked a lock absentmindedly behind her ear and said, “And here you said you weren’t going to go crazy over Lantern Rite.”

“I’m not! You write your wish on it and everything—and I think it’d be nice to do it again, but outside of that, festivals like this are too much and very crowded.” [Name] sat back in their seat, satisfied with their nonsensical explanation. 

“You seem like the type to love events,” Xiangling pointed out. “You’re funny! Like a clown.”

[Name]’s brow twitched. “I don’t hate these festivals. I think they’re okay. Like, meh. Like, they’re fine. It’s just that by the end of the night, there’s probably going to be fifty lost children with no parents and the Millelith have to deal with them. And I’m not a clown.”

“You hate Lantern Rite?” a familiar voice chimed in from behind [Name].

“I don’t,” said [Name] quickly and defensively. “Tartaglia.”

“And Zhongli,” Zhongli said from next to Tartaglia. 

“Hi, Zhongli.” [Name] watched as Zhongli helped himself to the seat right next to [Name]. Tartaglia tried for the open seat next to Lumine. The traveler scooted far away from the Harbinger. “Again, you guys are misinterpreting it. I like festivals. They’re fun. But in my opinion, most of them are just okay.”

Tartaglia stole [Name]’s bowl of rice. “Just say you hate fun and children and happy people and go.”

“Is it such a crime to think Lantern Rite is okay? Tartaglia, you’re a literal criminal?”

The criminal fiddled with his chopsticks. He picked up a small heap of rice and carefully balanced it into his mouth. Xiangling covered her mouth. It was like watching a baby doe deer try to walk on ice. “Yeah, if you consider these killer looks a crime.”

“If we go around and list all our crimes, we’d be sitting here for a very long time,” interrupted Lumine. She turned to Tartaglia. “You destroy the floor of the Golden House every time we spar! It’s money-consuming and time-consuming.”

“I’m stimulating the economy, shawty.”

[Name] wondered why Zhongli knew Tartaglia the Harbinger. Zhongli was a mystery to them; he was a box of puzzles waiting to be opened and solved, yet [Name] had the common courtesy to not go snooping around in Zhongli’s affairs. If he wished to be buddies with the Fatui, then that was his deal. [Name] made similar precarious contracts in the past.

Before [Name]’s arrival in Liyue, they’d heard that it was Tartaglia that nearly brought about the reckoning in Liyue by summoning some ocean freak god. He didn’t look so dangerous, now that [Name] knew him personally. He seemed to get along with Zhongli just fine, and Lumine, too.

Maybe he had a good reason.

“Lantern Rite is a joyous occasion,” said Zhongli. “It’d be a shame if you didn’t find it fun, [Name]. Everyone in Liyue, from the youngsters in the harbor to the elderly in Qingce Village, celebrates the lanterns.”

“Yeah,” said Xiangling. “Only clowns hate on Lantern Rite!”

“I don’t hate Lantern Rite,” [Name] felt compelled to reiterate, “and I’m not a clown! No hate to clowns—I like them. There’s a lovely traveling troupe, actually, that goes all over Teyvat. Last I saw them was when they were in Fontaine, and they had a lovely shot that could shoot an arrow through a gazillion swinging axes! Clowns are respectable.”

Tartaglia made an unrecognizable face.

Zhongli straightened up. “Lantern Rite provides its own entertainment. There are kites and lanterns—and there’s more to Lantern Rite than just lanterns as well. It has a very deep history that I think you’ll find interesting.”

“I’m sure I’m going to have lots of fun at Lantern Rite tonight. And then I’m going to sleep in early after I’ve had my fill, because there’s work to be done tomorrow and then the next day. Maybe Secretary Lu will finally get off my back for it.”

Xiangling wrinkled her nose. “I thought you tended to avoid your business work. Make it make sense.”

“And there’s bound to be plenty of Liyue’s finest art on display,” Zhongli added. “It’s only at the middle of the night can you sincerely enjoy the wonders of Lantern Rite. I take it you haven’t been to a Lantern Rite since you were last in Liyue, so this is the perfect opportunity to feel at home again.”

“I tripped on rolled up banners on the way here!” exclaimed [Name]. “I’m just saying that Lantern Rite might be a little bit overhyped—”

“It’s the children, isn’t it?” Xiangling asked. “You monster.”

Tartaglia nodded. “You monster.”

Lumine was busy staring off into space, murmuring something about primogems and quests. Must have been some Adventurers’ Guild business. [Name] rubbed their forehead. 

Was today criticize-[Name]-day? Perhaps it was karma for being annoying, but [Name] really had never been one for festivals. They loved art. Festivals were art. It’s just festivals were okay in [Name]’s mind, and they felt as if everyone was blowing it out of proportion.

“So this is a Xiao Lantern,” said Zhongli as he procured a whole lantern and placed it onto his lap. [Name] stared at it. They knew what Xiao Lanterns were. They were tired, not daft. “I helped make a few around town. Maybe if I show you all the best parts about Lantern Rite, your mind will change about the festivities. Let’s make Xiao Lanterns together for those who are too busy to craft their own.”

[Name] bobbed their head up. “Oh, I don’t”—and they said this with much humiliation—“really know how to make one.”

“Did your parents never teach you how to make one?” Xiangling asked. “My ba taught me how.”

“Ah, no. I didn’t live with my parents when I was in Liyue. I was with my aunt, who would usually buy them down at the harbor, and then she’d let me wander around Liyue with the giant-ass lantern.”

“Sounds like you and your aunt weren’t close,” said Tartaglia. He kept eating [Name]’s bowl of rice. [Name] ought to charge him for such a crime. From the looks of Northland Bank, there was no doubt he was considerably wealthy. “What a pity. Things are always best celebrated with family.”

[Name] protested, “We were plenty close! She taught me how to read revenue charts.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Zhongli was looking at [Name] intently. It was that inquisitive look that ticked [Name] off. His brow was cocked, and his eyes bore into [Name]. They couldn’t tell if he was pitying them, or if he was amused. It was unreadable, as if he’d spent years practicing and honing it. He flexed his fingers and folded his hands. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” said [Name]. “You’re freaking me out. Guys. Guys. Zhongli is being weird again. Someone get Xingqiu. I don’t like the look in Zhongli’s eyes—”

 

---

“You’re doing it wrong,” said Zhongli. “Be kinder to your lantern, [Name]. You use the Plaustride to fold the Xiao Lantern like this. It’ll provide a base for your lantern. Then you mend the lantern fiber together and weave it—”

[Name] twisted their fiber. “I’m going to choke you.”

“Right,” said the consultant. “Look. This wick will go inside the lantern, which will light up at night when we watch the Mingxiao Lantern take off. It’s thanks to Wang’ya that we get to see a spectacle, and we ought to give these lanterns to her to express our thanks later. But overall, the lantern-making process is fairly simple that even a child could grasp the concept, and—[Name], stop eating the lantern fiber.”

“Ieh haeh wike whoohah cay,” said [Name]. It tastes like sugar cane. They spat out the fiber and wiped their mouth with their sleeve. “I had extra.”

“Do you just put anything in your mouth?”

“Sure, if there are extras.”

“You intrigue me. Say it was something inedible, like a rock.” Before [Name] could answer, Zhongli lifted up [Name]’s Xiao Lantern. He turned it over, inspecting it for any faults. “I’m impressed, to say the least. There are minimal flaws, only beginner mistakes. You have a few too-long threads, but it’s nothing a good knife won't cut. Here you were, eating the materials and being rough with the craft, and I thought it would take an hour doing this. You have crafty hands.”

[Name] crossed their arms. “It did take an hour. You spent an hour explaining to me the origins of each material in vivid detail before we actually did any crafting.”

“Time is a mortal concept, [Name].”

“Every word you say compels me to jump off a bridge.”

“Really?”

“No,” [Name] said. “I actually like your company.” Zhongli let a charmed expression spread across his features. [Name] swore. “I’ve got to stop saying the truth around you. And you’ve got to stop provoking me, Mr. Zhongli!”

Zhongli laughed. “So we’re back to formalities.”

“Stop.”

“Sure, Master [Name].”

The craftsman who oversaw the crafting table looked at Zhongli expectantly. He looked tired despite it only being the late afternoon; it must have been the ante-party excitement of the crowd rushing to any available crafting station to get lanterns made quickly.  “That’ll be 100 mora for the two lanterns, sir.”

Zhongli stopped laughing. 

[Name] paid for it. Being a guild manager did have its perks—something to reward [Name] after a dull work day.

“Did you enjoy making lanterns?” Zhongli asked [Name] when they finally left the station. 

They were strolling down the harbor, where everything was still being set up and crafted. People wove in and out of the crowd, some children carried baskets of fruit on their head to help their parents, and strong dockworkers carried wooden planks and boxes. [Name] felt themself almost being brushed away with the constant movement, and they resisted the urge to cling onto someone.

Zhongli and [Name] carried their lanterns, though they were very big, and while Zhongli could easily carry his lantern under one arm, [Name] had to use two hands to lug theirs around.

“I did,” said [Name]. “I’ve always watched people make Xiao Lanterns, so it was interesting to use my own hands to make one myself.”

“So you’ve recognized the Lantern Rite’s worth—”

“Ah-ah,” corrected [Name]. “I just said I liked making lanterns. I’ll probably make a few more later on, but after that, I’ll be sleeping the Rite’s time away in my comfortable bed.”

Zhongi didn’t look like he was giving up yet.

He cleared his throat. “Then let’s go peruse the open stalls right now. The Illumiscreen is a classic. Maybe you’ll be able to find all the treasure.” Zhongli’s long strides carried him further and further away from [Name]. [Name]’s heart pricked, and they sped to catch up to him. Damn Mr. Zhongli and his excitement!

The Illumiscreen was a treasure-hunting game that encompassed all of Liyue. [Name] wondered who would have the time to even trek that far up! It was bordering Fontaine territory! The game consisted of three projectors, and they projected the marks on Liyue’s map, allowing adventurers to find the chests.

Brother Qian sighed as a passerby failed to even turn on the projector. He manned the Illumiscreen while wearing an outrageously green outfit. Brother Qian adjusted his glasses and noticed Zhongli.

He brightened up. “Mr. Zhongli! What brings you here? Are you lookin’ for a go at the Illumiscreen? The Illumiscreen operates best at night, so unfortunately—”

Zhongli shook his head. “I’m personally just taking a look, but [Name] here might be interested in getting a head start.”

“[Name] is not interested,” said [Name] flatly.

“[Name] should be interested.”

[Name] glared at Zhongli. “[Name] is going to sla—”

“Master [Name]?” a voice called out amidst the crowd. It was Xingqiu, [Name]’s loveable apprentice, and his plus one—a boy [Name] had yet to meet. “The Illumiscreen doesn’t open until nighttime, so you ought to wait.”

“Xingqiu,” [Name] greeted. “Are you enjoying the Rite’s festivities so far? You should try making a Xiao Lantern.”

Xingqiu’s friend was a boy donned in light, layered clothes. His hair was a mess of light-blue, and his heavy-lidded eyes made him look disinterested in meeting [Name]. Or tired. Maybe it was both. He was about as tall as Xingqiu, if not a smidgen taller. He was eating a popsicle.

The friend stuck out his open hand to Xingqiu. Xingqiu sighed, fishing out a few coins of mora before slapping it into his friend’s palm. The friend took a monstrous bite out of the popsicle stick before tucking the mora away in his pocket.

“What was that?” [Name] asked.

“Bet,” said Xingqiu’s friend. “I bet Xingqiu 300 mora that you were going to be with Mr. Zhongli when we see you next.”

[Name] was affronted. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Chongyun,” Xingqiu’s friend introduced himself. “I respect you.”

“Thank you?” 

Xingqiu crossed his arms. “I’m enjoying the Lantern Rite! When it’s finally nightfall, Chongyun and I are going to go to the rooftops of Liyue and we’re going to let out lanterns free out there. Master, do you have a wish in mind already? I see you’ve made a lantern already.”

“Oh, no, I’m not sure yet,” said [Name]. They hefted the lantern and ran their hands over the fine weavings of the fiber. The lantern would surely be beautiful when lit. “Zhongli was teaching me how to make them. I’ll make another one later and write my real wish on there.”

“You don’t have to wish just one time,” Zhongli interjected. “All wishes written on Xiao Lanterns are real wishes.”

“That’s awfully selfish. I doubt any of the higher powers will be able to answer everyone’s wishes if I wished multiple times.”

“That’s their problem. You’re mortal. Be as selfish as you need.”

“You say that, but tomorrow I’ll wake up with an angry stag hovering over my bed.”

This time it was Xingqiu’s turn to open his palm. Chongyun gave Xingqiu mora. Xingqiu lifted up the coin for [Name] to see. “This is for every time Master [Name] says something utterly ridiculous.”

“It’s not that ridiculous,” protested [Name], exasperated and betrayed, as Xingqiu pocketed the mora. “Have you heard the tales of the adepti? I’m pretty sure one of them is a freaking stag. Give Chongyun his money back. Why are you even placing bets on me anyway? Place a bet on Zhongli or something.”

“We have,” said Xingqiu. “I lost 2000 mora.”

Chongyun let out a smug huff. “I ate popsicles for days. For. Days. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“That can’t possibly be healthy,” said Zhongli.

Chongyun waved a hand in dismissal.

Xingqiu lifted a hand over his eyes like a visor, checking the sun. He nudged Chongyun and bowed his head in apology to [Name]. “We’re going to go spy on Xiangling now. I bet that she was going to pick exactly 42 Jueyun Chilis and there was going to be property damage involved.” 

“I bet that someone was going to die.”

 “Happy Lantern Rite, Master [Name]!” Xingqiu concluded as if Chongyun hadn’t predicted manslaughter. “If you want, come find me tonight, and we can write our wishes together—with Chongyun! We’ll be near the jewelry shop later!”

With those words and strange bets, Chongyun and Xingqiu disappeared into the eager crowd.

For the rest of the day, Zhongli took [Name] around Liyue. [Name] lived in Liyue. They thought there wasn’t anything they didn’t know. On their breaks (and when they were avoiding Secretary Lu), they wandered the large city, jogging up childhood memories and starting new experiences. Every alley and every nook did not remain untouched by Zhongli’s touristic actions. [Name] bought at least one thing from the shops they visited.

Zhongli encouraged [Name] to try the special Lantern Rite food. At some point, [Name] had eaten too much, and Zhongli had to pat their back as they threw up in Liyue Harbor with a few people watching. They wanted to go back to their plain white rice, but the look on Zhongli’s face only made them buy more Lantern Rite specialties.

He was doing all this for them. They might as well humor him, right?

[Name] asked him if they were bothering him too much. Zhongli typically spent his days busy with work and meetings. [Name] felt a twinge of guilt pulling him out of his schedule just so he could convince them of the wonders of the Lantern Rite. Zhongli told him that they weren’t bothering him; he worked for a funeral parlor, and unless someone did die from Xiangling’s expedition, he and Hu Tao likely weren’t going to be in business for the day.

And, of course, Lantern Rite wasn’t all about displays, either.

[Name] saw the dishwashers and the busboys, busy at work to tend to guests. Dishes were flowing in and out from all restaurants. Secretaries and guards prowled the streets. There were babies, and there were shiploaders, and there were comedians as well as singers. Storytellers and poets and maids and rounders—all in Liyue! The city flashed its proud colors of gilded design and royal red, and other colors painted the city.

It all felt so grand, and [Name] liked it. Maybe [Name] liked their company more. But Liyue was a close second. What good was a festival without good company and a good drink? Zhongli and [Name] ought to stop by the teahouse.

Zhongli and [Name] decided to release their first lanterns earlier, just before the night crept over the sky. Around the nature-filled outskirts, they hiked up a hill until they saw the shimmering Liyue below, where the lights were beginning to brighten due to the sun’s slow set. Liyue looked like a constellation. Pretty and terribly human.

[Name] and Zhongli sat on rocks as they etched their wishes into the lantern.

“What are you writing for your wish?” [Name] asked as they peeked over Zhongli’s shoulder.

Zhongli laughed, deep like bells. “Wishes aren’t a thing that you can cheat off of like a schoolmate during a test, [Name]. But if you must know, I wished for world peace.”

May all the world be at peace.

“A bit grandiose, don’t you think?” [Name] went. “I wished for a cat.”

“I don’t intend to give the higher powers a hard time, but it certainly does feel like we’re already living in peaceful times now. It’d be a pity if things were to change, and suddenly we’d be living in interesting and tumultuous times.”

[Name] yawned. “A feline companion would be perfect for interesting and tumultuous times.”

“Indeed.”

They released their lanterns that afternoon. 

Their lanterns chased the setting sun, as if to say, ‘wait for us!’ and they floated up and up and away but the sun didn’t wait. The sun waited for no one. It was why the days always felt as if they were going too fast, and it was why people always felt as if there wasn’t enough time. But the sun always came back, and there was always more time. Always.

The sun’s final rays made their appearance before successfully winking out over the horizon. Dark blanketed over the night sky, and it was hard to differentiate the Xiao Lanterns from the stars. The large Mingxiao lantern was waiting to be released in the middle of the harbor, and it looked like the sun, almost.

“Nice view,” said Zhongli.

He said it as if he were seeing Liyue for the first time—raw and quiet.

[Name] peered at the city below. They wondered what it was like to celebrate the Lantern Rite with everyone else down there. Now that it was nighttime, the Lantern Rite was beginning to kick off. They liked it up here better, though. 

“Nice view,” repeated [Name]. They sat back and scooted closer to Zhongli. The cool wind ran chills through their loose clothes. “This was nice.”

“I win.”

“I didn’t know this was a competition. But if it were, I suppose you would have won. I enjoyed this. I enjoyed your company. A lot. If you hadn’t been here, I would still be a mopey festival-hating sexy beautiful hot creature.”

“Really now.”

[Name] laughed, throwing their head back to look at the sky. Their face was hot with some embarrassment; they didn’t mind, though. The mossy rock was cool and soft underneath their fingertips, and the grass tickled their shins. Surrounding trees bearing fruits swayed. The air smelled like smoke from the constant fires of food being cooked, or maybe someone was smoking nearby.

“It’s a good Lantern Rite,” said [Name]. “Not like my first one. I hated my first one. When I first moved to Liyue, I was young. Super young. Imagine a rabid mini-me. Everything was so big to me, and I was so intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” Zhongli asked. He glanced at [Name]. “I can’t imagine you as anything but intrepid and undaunted. You barfed in the harbor without a second thought.”

“A lot of things intimidated me when I was younger, too! When my aunt took me under her wing, she gave me loads of work to do. I studied day and night. Well, not really. I spent most of my ‘studying’ staring out of windows and drawing the birds on the sills. I hated ‘responsibility.’ Hated, hated, hated! I was scared of work and my aunt’s guild because eventually it would all be mine. So when it came down to the Lantern Rite, I was excited to get out and have fun.

“She bought me a Xiao Lantern. I don’t remember what my wish was. It doesn’t matter. When I turned around, she was gone, and I was lost in the crowd. Everything was so noisy, and I was overwhelmed and scared and tiny. The thing I wanted to do most was to hole myself into a dark crevice and never crawl out.”

Zhongli said nothing, but he sat back. [Name] knew he was still listening. It would be a shame to stop now, so they continued with their story.

“And then suddenly I was all right with ‘responsibility.’ Suddenly, I was willing to do work and to study and to do everything that my aunt asked of me because I moreover wanted to be safe. Or maybe I didn’t want to be alone. Those things were synonymous to me.

“I was found eventually. I mean, the heir to an influential guild can’t be lost for long. So while I do like festivals, I don’t like the idea of being alone and lost in all the glamor and shine. I still don’t like responsibility, either”—[Name] pointed an accusatory finger at Zhongli—“but as an adult, it’s just something I have to cope with.”

“I understand,” said Zhongli. “Responsibility is a lot, especially if you’re just one person. It gets so much that you want to put it off until the next day. But it’s not so bad when you have other people. That’s what's so great about mortal life.”

[Name] snorted. Mortal this, mortal that. Zhongli always talked as if he were something above it, like he were a god. How strange, thought [Name]. How lovely. 

“Let’s go down there,” said Zhongli. “So we can get a closer look at the Mingxiao Lantern. It’s something worth looking at.”

“I just told you I didn’t like crowds, you buffoon—”

“You told me you didn’t like getting lost or being alone,” said Zhongli. “We’ll go together.”

[Name] felt childish. “And what if you lose me?”

“I won’t. I’m very tall.”

[Name] watched Zhongli stand up from his place on the rock. He dusted the dirt off his dark clothes. The glow of Liyue was behind him, and he glowed, too. Lanterns floated above his head and into the insatiable night sky that swallowed up everything. 

Liyue Harbor then went dark, dark as the sky, as the whole city anticipated for the Mingxiao Lantern. They faintly recalled Zhongli saying that the Mingxiao Lantern was best seen when everything was as quiet as a mouse and as dark as Wuwang Hill at night. 

He held out a hand. For [Name]. [Name] stared at his gloved hand, and Zhongli said, “It’s a steep hill, and it’s very slippery. Let’s be careful now.”

The guild manager took the consultant’s hand.

 

---

The lone Yaksha walked to the edge of a grassy cliff.

After the traveler’s constant nagging, he deducted that this would be as close to the city he would get. This cliff was arguably the best spot to view everything anyway, from the Mingxiao Lantern to all the mortal Xiao Lanterns.

The Mingxiao Lantern of Skybracer, his previous comrade, glowed with life. Skybracer’s tail billowed in the wind, a jellyfish blue, and its horns shone with gold. Though the real Skybracer’s horns were so gold that not even mortal hands could replicate it, XIAO figured that this was close enough.

He watched Skybracer leap to life. The air seemed to ripple under each step as the lantern floated and jumped from its position. The lantern soared across Liyue, and its blazing trail came in the form of the glowing lanterns, bubbling up high into the sky. It really was like Skybracer—agile and swift. Xiao’s heart pricked.

Soon all of Liyue was lit with lanterns. The city was beautiful. It was his city. Xiao was very quiet now. His eyes were turned upward to follow the path of the glowing makeshift stars. It was a slow, fulfilling movement of shifting and moving lanterns. Some bumped into each other, and some made a direct beeline for the moon, as if any of them could actually reach the moon. The Xiao Lanterns flew until the sky was covered with them.

The lanterns swirled and followed the wind’s lead.

Xiao sat on the cliff. Maybe… maybe it was worth staying here for a little more time. For the traveler, he convinced himself, and not for anything else.

And for a moment, just for a small, small, forgettable moment, Xiao smiled.

The Mingxiao Lantern shot up into the night sky, faster than all of the other lanterns, like a shooting star returning to its home, blue and brilliant, gold and grand. It doesn’t stop to look down, down at the adoring mortals, down at Xiao. It keeps moving forward.

And then it’s gone.

And then it's not. Suddenly there’s a firework, so big that it lights up Liyue’s world. Gold, gold, gold—everywhere. It’s almost like it’s day again, and Xiao could see Liyue Harbor very clearly. The sparks of the firework shoot everywhere yet it doesn’t hurt a single soul.

A myriad of other fireworks follow, and although they’re smaller, they don’t go unnoticed by Xiao. Red, green, purple, blue. Xiao’s eyes strained to capture them all. He gave his unvoiced gratitude to the woman who organized an event. It definitely must not have been easy. He could sympathize with something like that—working all alone.

The sparks of the fireworks began disintegrating into the cool air, and night overtook the world again—but this time, the lanterns were in place. There’s still an inherent glow to Liyue, though. The same glow it always had. But it was a little different this year. There was no Rex Lapis, there was no god. Yet for some strange reason, Xiao found comfort in it.

Xiao’s eyes fell downward, and he saw Rex Lapis.

His breath hitched. It was him. It really was him! Xiao looked down, his curiosity piquing terribly. Zhongli, the name resounded in Xiao’s head. It was no longer Rex Lapis, but Zhongli. A new name meant a new beginning, and Xiao knew this very well. He would do his best to respect his previous master’s wishes.

Zhongli was walking down the hill, and…

And he had someone in tow. 

Zhongli was holding hands with them as they entered the city of Liyue—a place Xiao could not bring himself to follow. But Xiao, like a predator, was trained on Zhongli’s companion, and he wondered who that could possibly be.

Ah, Xiao thought, his eyes narrowing. I see.

Notes:

i hope tartaglia saying shawty takes ten years off of everyones lifespan

Chapter 6: Trials and Errors

Summary:

Xiao puts [Name] to the test of whether or not they're worthy; upon receiving back pains, Zhongli struggles to come to terms with the fact that he's aging; Zhongli and Xiao talk.

There was a thud on [NAME]’s roof.

[Name] had been in Liyue for a few months now, and they were sure that Liyue’s weather didn’t typically drop rocks. They looked up from their paperwork, eyeing the ceiling, before returning to the blurry pen on paper. The words swirled together—from [Name]’s fatigue, no doubt—and they were all yawns and sniffles now.

Secretary Lu retired early ([Name] allowed it, most regrettably, since they now had piles of work to do), so it was [Name] alone in the guild building.

There was a lighter thud on [Name]’s balcony—just behind where they slaved over their desk.

Oh, Rex Lapis, swore [Name]. Their mind flew to all possibilities: if not a rock, then a robber or an assassin. A rock, a robber, and an assassin could all kill [Name]—if they each tried hard enough. A meteor crashing from the sky would surely do the trick.

And [Name] was trying not to die until they’ve finally convinced Zhongli to watch a horrendous theatre showing with them (and he was rather adamant about the subject, saying that the theatre troupe was excessive and terrible with its reputation well-below rock bottom). [Name] didn’t care; that was the point of watching bad theatre.

“Now would be a great time to have a Vision,” murmured [Name] as they opened a drawer. There was nothing in the drawer. Right. They sent their weapon away for repairs not too long ago after a poor mishap in Fontaine. [Name] drummed their fingers on their desk, trying to think of a solution.

The windows of their office slid open, and someone crawled through. Soft footsteps followed. Had [Name] been anymore drowsy, they would have missed it entirely.

[Name] took a deep breath in and turned their chair around to meet their doom.

They were greeted with a pole weapon at their throat. It was a pretty polearm, with green jade outstretched in small, symmetrical blades at the spearhead and gold finishings. The small lantern [Name] had for company flickered and caused a glean against the glowing jade stones, stark against the cool night. 

At the end of the dark stone handle was a young man, who looked no older than [Name] was. 

He was small, wiry, and fit. His brows were knitted together, and his mouth was set in a thin line of disappointment. The man bore black hair with teal locks that fell in slight curls just above his shoulders.

But the thing that caught [Name]’s attention the most was the green tattoo on the man’s right arm. [Name] squinted. It looked like glittering jade scales.

“I am Xiao,” said the man with the pole arm, his voice breathy, like he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a long time, like he’d just woken up from a deep, deep nap. Not once did Xiao let down his weapon. His hold was steady, and [Name] thought that with such a firm grasp, he’d be an excellent painter. 

“Hayyy, girl,” said [Name]. “What’s up?”

Xiao drew back his pole arm before tapping the end of his weapon against the ground. Now that he wasn’t waving a weapon in front of [Name]’s face, they could see his clothes a bit more clearly. His clothes didn’t conform to typical Liyue wear; he had a stoned necklace donned and a large sleeve on the arm without a tattoo. [Name]’s eyes crawled up to his shoulder, where two horns protruded.

That possibly couldn’t be… natural, could it? 

“Your friend,” said Xiao, “Zhongli.” He paused. He said Zhongli as if it bothered him somehow, tentative and quick.

[Name] made the connection. They rubbed their forehead, turned around, and rummaged their drawers for a sack of spare mora. “Agh, does he owe you an uncertain amount of mora? I told him I’d cover a few of his typically unnecessary expenditures as payment for last time’s meal at Wangshu Inn. Say less—”

“I’m not a debt collector. Keep your mortal money.”

“Then who are you?”

“Stupid bitch. I said I am Xiao,” said Xiao. He stalked over to the front of [Name]’s desk so he could look them in the eye. “I’m a… previous subordinate of your friend Zhongli. I worked with him for many years before his retirement.”

[Name] had to snort. Suddenly the gravity of the situation was alleviated. Maybe it already had been alleviated since [Name] never took anything seriously outside of tax season. “Retirement? Zhongli is well into his work life, though he acts as if he’s in retirement. What was his previous occupation?”

Xiao stilled and gripped the shaft of his pole arm. “Unimportant. I am not here to talk about personal matters with you. I’m here to see if you’re worthy of Zhongli’s companionship.”

“Worthy?” [Name] exclaimed. “We are friends! Surely there’s not a test I have to take to be Zhongli’s friend. We’ve been friends for months on end now.”

The man with the horned shoulder chose to ignore [Name]. “Zhongli takes bad company, though I’m sure he knows of it. You know of the Fatui?”

“Sure,” said [Name], and their mind fell to Tartaglia, one of Zhongli’s drinking buddies, “the Fatui are an odd company to keep, but I personally am not from a suspicious clandestine organization. I might have put up more of a fight when you trespassed into my property if I were.”

“No,” said Xiao slowly. It looked like he had more to say on the matter but reserved himself.  “Zhongli does not do anything without reason. While I do respect him and his decisions, I still wish to give you some trials to test.”

[Name] was dumbfounded. They rubbed their eyes with their palms. Maybe they were tired. Maybe when this young man was a figment of their imagination, a product of a 2 A.M. hallucination. “I doubt you quizzed Tartaglia when he became friends with Zhongli, and I doubt you quizzed any other citizen who decided that they would be acquaintances with your former employer. I am no different.”

“You don’t realize how different you actually are. First question. Zhongli’s favorite color.”

“Triangle,” [Name] said absentmindedly and quickly. Xiao made a face. [Name] waved it off. “Okay, Xiao, you’re really weird. You—You crawled through my window! There’s no reason for you to subject me to your unjustified trials.”

“I have plenty of reasons, mortal. The trials begin now.”

 

---

When ZHONGLI woke up this morning, he felt an awkward clunk in his back. So, naturally, he stretched, but the clunk in his back turned into discomfort, like he’d slept in an awkward position or woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Zhongli never slept in an unpleasant position. And his bed was lined up against the wall so there was only one side to wake up on anyway.

He rubbed his shoulder and continued with his day, hoping that this newfound pain wouldn’t inhibit him from carrying out his duties. Maybe today [Name] would come by the parlor. Zhongli procured tickets to a better and more entertaining play (for the longest time, they were trying to convince him to see a terrible show!), and it would be nice to see it with them.

The pain in his back didn’t go away, and it had already been a few hours since it first erupted. He wondered if he’d fallen ill. Gods didn’t fall ill, and neither did Adepti. Although he was “mortal” now, he knew better than to hold himself up to mortal standards. 

There was a dull pang in his chest.

“Mr. Zhongli!” exclaimed Master Zhang the blacksmith. He was just beginning to lay out his work and get the day started. Mr. Zhongli knew Master Zhang’s father, and then Master Zhang’s father’s father, and so forth. All hard working men with true blacksmithing blood running through their veins. “Nice morning, isn’t it?”

Master Zhang was a well-built, muscular man with hair cut short, almost to military length. Master Zhang wrapped an apron around his waist and adjusted the straps. Zhongli heard that the blacksmith in Mondstadt had a fouler attitude, so he was grateful that the blacksmith in Liyue was on the friendlier side.

“Yes,” said Mr. Zhongli, “though there seems to be an ache in my back.”

The blacksmith looked amused. He fished out a rag to clean his anvil. “Is there now? You sound like my father.”

“I don’t suppose that’s a good thing.”

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” replied Master Zhang. He was more focused on the shine of his anvil than the confused Zhongli. Zhongli crossed his arms. “You’re far too young to be receiving back pains anyway. Maybe when you’re older and starting to sprout white hairs. You might have slept wrong, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Age?” Zhongli heard himself say. The thought of age never crossed his mind. He simply assumed that he wouldn’t succumb to the more vulnerable side of aging. Adepti, him included, lived for a very long time, though not forever. Zhongli has already lived for a considerable amount of time. He should have anticipated this, of course. Like he should have anticipated a retirement fund, and how the minting of mora will pick up without his Gnosis, and a billion other things.

He was well-prepared to age. He’d been prepared for some time. He deserved a break, and he deserved this mortal life. But back pains? That was where Zhongli crossed the line. Next thing you know, his bones were going to crack at every movement.

Maybe he needed a bit more preparations. He couldn’t dawdle around when he was aging.

Master Zhang pulled his head up from his beloved anvil. “Yes, but you’re twenty-nine. Plenty young. You’ve got some time—Mr. Zhongli? Where’d you go, man?”

Zhongli was gone.

And then he was at the front desk of Bubu Pharmacy. He adjusted the hem of his gloves, striding up to Herbalist Gui. Herbalist Gui was the opposite of Master Zhang, but they both were dedicated to their work.

Herbalist Gui was a tall and pretty man, black hair falling over his brow, whose sleeves were too big, drawing his wrists down. He yawned, and he waved a hand over his mouth. Upon seeing Mr. Zhongli, he straightened up to pay attention.

“Mr. Zhongli,” greeted the herbalist with a nod. “Welcome. How may I help you? Do you have a prescription?”

“No, so this may come as a sort of sudden development.”

The herbalist raised a brow.

“I was wondering if you had any cures for back pains?” Zhongli thought it would be silly if he asked for aging medicine outright, but he had an inkling that the perfume seller Ying’er might know a thing or two about preventative measures against feeling old. “Or general aging pains.”

Herbalist Gui went quiet. He studied Zhongli. “Aging?”

“I’d just like to prevent them before they happen,” Zhongli replied politely—and quickly, before the embarrassment fully set in. He was mature enough to tackle this subject straight-on. Yes. He was ready to age, but now that… now that it was finally here, he wasn’t sure what to do. 

You typically think you can plan everything out to the end, thinking about what to do when this happens, what to do when that happens, but before you realize it, the end appears right in front of you, and you don’t know what to do.

By the Archons, was aging scary. 

Herbalist Gui gave Zhongli an odd look before ducking down into the cabinets to see what he could find. Zhongli drummed his fingers against the counter, a habit he actually picked up from [Name] when they were in deep thought. When he first heard it, it gave him a sort of impending doom, like drums leading up to a hero’s death or an elephant stampede.

“Mr. Zhongli, you are very young,” said Herbalist Gui. “You said that this was for yourself, but I don’t think you need them.”

“I need them.”

“You—You really need them?”

“I really—Yes,” corrected Zhongli. He cleared his throat. His desperation wouldn’t overtake his sense for manners. “I’d like them. I’d appreciate it, Herbalist Gui.”

The herbalist waved a hand. “Whatever you wish for, Mr. Zhongli. I have no reason to refuse you.” He straightened back up with a few jars and flowers. “Ah, if you’re interested, I have a few creams here for… um… anti-aging, and then here is for your back pains in particular…”

 

---

“Right, so, what the hell is this?” asked [NAME].

“Food,” said Xiao. 

Curt and straight to the point. 

Had [Name] been running on more than two hours of sleep, they might have tried to be a little more witty back. But unfortunately, Xiao was hell-bent on whisking [Name] away to the trials of becoming Zhongli’s friend. They didn’t understand why they had to do it when no one else did. 

Maybe one of the higher ups wanted to give [Name] a hard time.

Currently, it was early morning, and Xiao and [Name] were near Qingce Village, around the beach area, where plenty of bamboo shoots sprouted from the ground. [Name] nearly tripped over one, but they were too miserable to care. Qingce Village was the utmost north of Liyue. [Name] lived in the very south. Xiao made them take a whole hike! 

They picked up a bamboo shoot, rough and raw. [Name] fiddled with the leaves, and they tossed it around before setting it back in the basket Xiao brought with him. “This feels more or less inedible.”

“It is inedible,” Xiao affirmed, “until you cook it, dimwit.”

[Name] resisted the urge to throw the bamboo shoot at Xiao’s head.

Xiao was moreover polite. Except for the fact that he hauled [Name]’s ass across Liyue and subjected them to these trials in order to prove their worthiness for Zhongli’s friendship. He kept to himself and hardly pried into [Name]’s business, which was a very low bar of expectation. And sometimes he violated that bar of expectation when he called [Name] mean names like mortal.

Okay, ‘mortal’ may have not been a mean name, but it was the way he said it. It hurt [Name]’s feelings a bit. 

“Cook me slow-cooked Bamboo Shoot Soup,” demanded Xiao as he leaned against a strong, lanky bamboo tree. His pole arm rested in his arms as he stared at [Name] expectantly. “I gathered enough ingredients for you, if not more than enough. You took enough pit stops for the both of us when we were walking here.”

“Thank you,” [Name] said slowly but not gratefully. “This is my first trial?”

Xiao blew a lock of hair from his face. “It can hardly be considered a trial if it’s as easy and mundane as this. I’m going easy on you.”

“Thank you,” said [Name] again. “I really feel blessed.”

“Was that… sarcasm?”

[Name] ignored Xiao. They picked through the spices and ingredients at the bottom of the basket. Spring onions… berries… rice wine… Xiao had also kindly set up a portable fire right next to the basket for [Name]’s personal use. They stared at the flickering flames. Then they looked at the rest of the ingredients.

Ham and, like, two slabs of meat. [Name] looked up, closed their eyes, and let out a sigh that they were holding for a very long time. 

They had no idea what the fuck they were doing.

As they began to cook the soup, Xiao allowed himself to sit down and rest, but he didn’t let down his guard once. His eyes followed [Name] wherever they went, as if to keep [Name] in check. It was impossible to rest with Xiao on guard.

Actually, [Name] didn’t care. They took breaks whenever they needed, and they needed those breaks. [Name] was very close to bonking out and taking a long, long nap.

[Name] wondered what Xiao was really. You know. With the horned shoulder and all. That thought led [Name] to wonder what Zhongli was before his job as a consultant. [Name] arrived in Liyue after he’d gotten his job, so they knew him as nothing else. He was just Zhongli, the funeral parlor consultant. They couldn’t imagine him as anything else.

The soup simmered in the pot. 

Xiao looked otherworldly, and he spoke otherworldly, too. Why else would he call [Name] mortal? Maybe he saw himself on a higher plane than everyone else, or maybe he was simply weird and called everyone he knew mortal. Another thing to latch on, but [Name] had never seen Xiao in Liyue Harbor before.

Liyue was expansive, granted. It had huddlings and smatterings of small villages everywhere, and the most notable one being Qingce Village (where [Name] and Xiao were now) in the north. Xiao did seem like the type to live away from society. Something about those shoes… 

He knew the terrain of Liyue well, too, so [Name] knew he wasn’t foreign to Liyue. There were so many mysteries surrounding Xiao. With the mysteries surrounding Xiao, it meant that mysteries surrounded Zhongli. To [Name], Zhongli was an open book. He never hid his thoughts and never failed to express his opinion. He was on friendly terms with most people he knew and enjoyed his job. Zhongli liked talking about the history of things a lot, but [Name] knew people with more weird quirks than that.

He was average, to [Name], and he was a friend. 

“Mortal,” said Xiao, “the soup is burning.”

[Name] snapped out of their trance. “Huh?” They looked at their pot. It was doing just fine. They looked at Xiao, their brows knitted together. “It’s just bubbling, Xiao. The water’s fine, but I’ll try to keep a closer eye on it, I guess—”

“Joke,” said Xiao, and he set his head against the bamboo tree without another word. “You looked bored.”

The soup cooked for a bit more.

“So, Xiao. What do you do for a living?”

No response.

So much for the jokester. [Name] prodded at their soup with the ladle. The soup had to simmer for about two hours, and that meant two hours with Xiao, who [Name] couldn’t read for the life of them. [Name], a businessperson, was accustomed to reading moods and people, but Xiao seemed to be above that.

“I’m a guild manager,” said [Name]. “I studied in Fontaine for a bit before returning here in lieu of my aunt. It’s a good job, but it can get boring at times. Wouldn’t recommend it if you like to run amok and play around.” When dodging their responsibilities, [Name] was frequently caught and dragged back by Secretary Lu, who would then turn around and take breaks for hours on end. What a toxic relationship.

Then, to [Name]’s delight, Xiao responded: “I’m a guardian of sorts.” 

“A guardian!” [Name] exclaimed, nearly dropping their ladle. Xiao fit the bodyguard stereotype in a way. The guards near Yanshang Teahouse were menacing enough, as they warded enough any passerby with a sharp glare and a growl to boot. “It must be very hard to catch a break.”

Xiao’s voice neared a rasp. “I don’t take breaks.”

[Name] was surprised. [Name] was a great lover of running away and not doing work, though at times, like last night, they allowed themself to mature and do it. They did not want to become a guild manager, but they didn’t mind it. As long as they took breaks and practiced what they loved to do, they were fine. But to take no breaks at all couldn’t possibly be healthy.

Then again, [Name] didn’t know Xiao that well. Zhongli might have, and they might ask him about this ‘Xiao’ later. 

“So you’re one of those people, then,” said [Name].

“What?” Xiao snapped.

“I don’t know,” continued the guild manager with a tongue in their cheek. “Bound by obligation to an unhealthy extent.”

Again with his unreadable expression, Xiao scoffed. “We’re all obligated to something, mortal.”

“Yeah, that’s why I said ‘to an unhealthy extent.’ You ought to do something you enjoy.”

“If all mortals did what they enjoyed for a living, Liyue would be in a world of trouble. It’s not possible, either.”

[Name] pouted. They added the spices to the soup gradually. “I’m not saying that either! Just—Just do what you need to do, but remember to keep yourself in mind, you know? Make the most of what you have, in spite or because of obligation. We’re all short on time, and it wouldn’t hurt to—never mind. You don’t look like you’re listening.”

“I was listening.”

“You didn’t look like it.”

“I don’t need to look like anything.”

“You literally look like an ogre.”

“You’re awfully violent for a mortal with no Vision.”

“I’m this close to dumping this soup on you.”

“I’ll live.”

 

---

“I don’t think this is very helpful,” admitted ZHONGLI. 

“Sure, it is!” exclaimed Hu Tao. “Just stand right… here.”

Zhongli and Hu Tao were in the funeral parlor’s backrooms. When Hu Tao heard that Zhongli stopped by the Bubu Pharmacy for anti-aging pharmaceuticals, she approached him with a technique that was ‘sure to slow any signs of aging.’ Zhongli had every right to be suspicious. And he was. But Hu Tao seemed sincere… hopefully.

“This is an ancient technique that my grandmother and grandmother’s grandmother used to dispel wrinkles and back pains and any sort of aging horrors,” said Hu Tao as she placed a teapot on Zhongli’s head.

This felt very fake.

No offense to Hu Tao’s grandmother and grandmother’s grandmother.

The teapot was heavy and thick, made of lead, but it was something Zhongli could handle with ease. This situation was simply peculiar and odd. Hu Tao was peculiar and odd in the flesh, but Zhongli had no intentions of becoming peculiar and odd himself.

“Do I just stand here with the teapot on my head?” Zhongli asked. “I don’t see the correlation between this and anti-aging remedies.”

“That’s how all medicine is! You don’t really know what’s in the drug, but it works!”

“That sounds like a health hazard?”

Hu Tao grinned, the pearls of her teeth perfectly lined. Her hair flopped with her hat as she danced around the room. Zhongli remained standing with the weight of the teapot on his head. He crossed his arms. 

He hadn’t seen [Name] at all today. He half-hoped they would drop from the sky and tell him a joke to get his mind off things. Maybe they knew something about anti-aging. They had plenty of odd advice up their sleeve. He was sure Verr from the Wangshu Inn would love them. [Name]’s stories could entertain the innkeeper loads. It was a shame Verr hadn’t had the chance to meet the guild manager when Zhongli and [Name] were last at the inn.

Zhongli couldn’t focus on finding preventative aging medicine all day. Later today he planned on visiting a museum for antiques. The nostalgia kick always tasted best at the end of the day. Then after that, he might go out and look at the birds down at the harbor. 

Ever since he saw Lumine kill a bird, he felt this odd need to watch over them.

Hu Tao was fast, too fast for Zhongli, and before he realized it, Hu Tao was by the door of the funeral parlor.

“Mr. Zhongli, I have to go somewhere really quickly,” said Hu Tao. “Wait for me here, yes?”

“Wait, Director Hu—”

Hu Tao was gone.

So it was just Zhongli here and the teapot on his head. This had to be a prank. There was no way standing with a teapot would prevent aging… Zhongli reached for the teapot, but then he faltered. Or maybe it would. Zhongli gulped and waited. His hands fell to his sides. It wouldn’t hurt to try or to humor Hu Tao’s grandmothers.

Today was a nice day, and he hoped he wouldn’t have any customers. Zhongli didn’t know if he could balance the teapot while walking.

 

---

[NAME] had to admit that Xiao’s trials weren’t as bad as they thought. They thought Xiao might make them fight a Geovishap or something, but Xiao seemed to take their mortal-ness in mind, thankfully. After they cooked the bamboo soup, Xiao sniffed it rather than tasting it. He deemed it satisfactory. Then, the rest of the trials occurred.

The trials were simply gliding, looking for food, and the occasional literature quiz (those of which [Name] barely passed, since [Name] faintly remembered Liyue literature. They were far better in Fontaine literature, much to their humiliation).

Xiao taught [Name] how to glide through the cliffs of Jueyen Karst. They soared from mountain to mountain in the Huanguang Stone Forest, only pausing when Xiao had to collect Qingxin flowers. [Name] had never collected these flowers in the wild before, as they only sprouted in dangerous terrain. Xiao, even with all his snippy words, was an excellent teacher.

Then they waded through the swampy areas of Nantianmen. Here was where Xiao asked about Rex Lapis’ past and his trophies. [Name] knew about Rex Lapis as much as any other citizen, but it wasn’t the deep knowledge that Xiao seemed to be looking for. 

“Mortal, what you know about Rex Lapis is subpar,” commented Xiao as he swatted a Hydro slime out of the way with his polearm when they were walking through shallow water. [Name] made a face at the splattered slime, or what was left of it. 

[Name] sighed. “I think I know all the basics.”

“You need to know more,” said Xiao. He rose from the water and patted himself dry, and then he helped [Name] out. “It’d be nice if you had a penchant for history.”

“I visit the storyteller every week!” exclaimed [Name].

Xiao rolled his eyes. “Wow. Congrats.”

[Name] waved their arms around. Xiao leaned back from [Name]’s explosive personality. He stalked forward, his strides faster than [Name]. “I’ve never been good at telling stories or conveying history, but I listen! I listen lots! I’m an excellent listener, I’ll have you know! I may not be good at those things, yet I enjoy them nonetheless. Hey—Hey, have you heard the story of Haishan?”

[Name] and Xiao visited the Dunyu Ruins, and then Lingju Pass. There were plenty of unfriendly foes there, ranging from mages to Tartaglia’s underlings, but Xiao managed to evade them all while allowing [Name] to sightsee. 

Xiao’s trials didn’t feel like trials, indeed. It felt like a trip. [Name] only wished for better company, but with their tiredness, they didn’t care that Xiao seldom spoke. Sometimes the conversation would banter back and forth, back and forth, and other times, it fell and sputtered out, leaving nothing. Xiao didn’t even know [Name]’s name. He never asked for it. From his attitude, [Name] didn’t know if he wanted to know it anyway.

Finally, they wound up back at Mt. Tianheng, where Xiao held a hand over his eyes so he could see far into Liyue Harbor below. [Name] was still climbing the mountain. When they hauled themself over, they rolled on the grass and panted. 

Xiao peered at [Name]. 

[Name] shook their head and lifted a finger to hush him. “I know. I know. Mortal.”

Xiao’s lips set into a grim line before he grasped their wrist and helped them up to their feet. Despite walking all over Liyue, Xiao had yet to break a sweat. He did seem tired, but not of this. [Name] hoped he could rest soon. Or take a nap. [Name] stood next to Xiao, and the young man crossed his arms as he surveyed the world.

There was a body of water at the bottom of the mountain that led to the sea. [Name] remembered almost falling down here when they were with Lumine in order to find the perfect place for photography.

[Name] smiled. “Liyue is so bea—”

“Last trial,” Xiao interrupted, “jump.”

“What.”

“You heard me.”

“For what reason—”

“In case you forgot, this is a test of camaraderie,” said Xiao. If [Name] chose to jump, surely they wouldn’t live. “If anything ever arises where you need to do something crazy and unthinkable for someone you admire, you’ll have no choice but to do it.”

[Name] let out an annoyed noise, guttural and strange. “Surely I’ll have a choice! I’m not going to jump off a cliff for Zhongli! Zhongli isn’t even here, so there’s no point in me jumping off a cliff!”

“I have to see how brave you are.”

[Name] was dumbfounded.

Xiao sighed. “If it helps, let’s propose a hypothetical: what if Zhongli jumped off and you had to jump in after him to save him?”

“Then, of course—but wait! In what situation would Zhongli even jump off a cliff? He’s far too smart for that. And you know what? Zhongli doesn’t look like he can swim, either. He’d probably sink down to the bottom.”

Xiao narrowed his eyes. “Don’t speak ill of him.”

“I wasn’t.”

 Xiao gripped his pole arm harshly. “You have to be loyal, mortal,” he said, but he said it like a promise, like an expectation. [Name] had only been friends with Zhongli for about a few months, and to expect this much already? [Name] didn’t know why. Asking for one’s loyalty was a big thing, and to Xiao, it seemed being loyal to Zhongli was worth it.

“To Zhongli?”

“You have to be,” said Xiao. He went quiet. “Because if there ever comes a day where you fall to darkne—”

“I’m leaving.”

As [Name] turned around to leave, Xiao appeared in front of them with his pole arm out. When he realized he had a weapon poised at a mortal, he lowered his weapon. “No, because if you ever—if you ever hurt him, I will have no mercy. Then he will be devastated. I don’t wish to make him sad, and I don’t wish to hurt you.”

“Here I thought you were somewhat sane,” said [Name]. “But then again, you are the same person who crawled through my window in the middle of the night, made me cook you food that you didn’t even eat, had me collect an innumerable amount food, quizzed me on my knowledge of Liyue, and—”

Xiao comically tossed [Name] off the cliff.

[Name]’s heart thudded. A billion swear words crossed their mind. Just who did Xiao think he was? Xiao was strange. How did Zhongli even know him? Why did Xiao even approach [Name] out of all people in the first place? If it wasn’t for that stupid man with the stupid horned shoulder, they wouldn’t be here. They might have been enjoying their day.

It was probably because of Xiao that [Name] was going to start sleeping with a bat and with one eye open. Who in their right mind would throw someone off a cliff as a test of loyalty? Xiao was weird. [Name] knew that much. Only weirdos called people mortal.

Then [Name] collided into a hard frame.

“Oh my god,” said [Name] as they shook Zhongli’s shoulders. “Did I kill you?”

Zhongli groaned as he tried to sit up from his position. He rubbed the back of his neck. He focused on [Name]. [Name] let out a sigh of relief. He was still alive. It was nice to finally see a friendly face around here. Zhongli was on the ground, as [Name] had successfully catapulted into him thanks to Xiao’s inhumane strength. 

“Did you just fall from the sky?” asked the consultant. “That’s got to be the second time this has happened. Someone needs to get you far, far away from Mt. Tianheng.”

[Name] snorted. “Danger loves me.”

“And me, by extent. Because you fell on me.”

[Name] rolled off Zhongli and stood up. They helped Zhongli up, and he dusted his clothes off. [Name] picked invisible lint off of their clothes. They were surprised Zhongli was fine after [Name] crash-landed into him. How strange. Then again, Zhongli had always been strange, though not as strange as Xiao.

“Guess we’re both not immune to danger,” said [Name]. “What’s up? How was your day, Mr. Zhongli?”

“I spent the last two hours of my day standing with a teapot on my head, thank you,” responded Zhongli. “Hmm, after that, I was on my way back to Bubu Pharmacy when you fell on me—oh, say, [Name], would you happen to think I’m aging?”

[Name] squinted, studying Zhongli’s face. They brightened up and roughly patted Zhongli on the back. “You look exactly how I first saw you, Zhongli!”

“Wait, do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Pat me on the back.”

[Name] awkwardly patted Zhongli on the back.

“Oh,” said Zhongli. “My back pains are gone.”

 

---

“Here,” said Zhongli when he sat down next to XIAO at Wangshu Inn. “Painkillers.”

Xiao was startled. “Rex—Zhongli. Thank you.”

Xiao was sitting at the balcony of Wangshu Inn, his legs swinging through the railing. Today, Xiao tested Zhongli’s close companion. They were odd and feared nothing and full of wit. They were not like Guizhong at all. Sure, they might have been smart to a degree, but they were painfully, painfully mortal. Xiao folded his arms against the wooden curve of the rails.

“You’re…” Xiao hesitated. “You’re becoming human, Zhongli.”

“I do believe that was my goal from the start.”

The Adeptus was quiet. “I suppose so. It’s more apparent now. You take company in strange people with strange quirks. You laugh and you mourn. You seem satisfied, which is good.”

Zhongli laughed. “And when did you have the time to do espionage, Adeptus?” Xiao buried his face in his arms in embarrassment. “[Name] told me about you. You two have met. Good. But I have no intention of letting this world collide with the other.”

“[Name]...” The name was new on Xiao’s tongue. He matched it to the mortal. “That is their name? I did not mean to—I did not mean to challenge your decisions. I respect you and who you are now. I am grateful for you and everything that you have done…”

“Other than throwing them off a cliff, [Name] said they had fun, so I guess it’s all right, hmm?”

“They told you everything?”

“You told them you were a bodyguard.”

The embarrassment was spreading to the tips of Xiao’s ears. His words came out muffled. “I am Liyue’s bodyguard, technically.”

Xiao recalled when [Name] coincidentally fell on Zhongli. Thanks to Zhongli’s Adeptus prowess, he didn’t die, and luckily, [Name] didn’t think too much of it. Xiao winced, hoping Zhongli wouldn’t see that he was the cause of Zhongli’s dear person to fall from the sky, but to his surprise, Zhongli looked happy, or even relieved.

And then, just faintly, he could hear them formulate plans to watch a theatre showing later. Xiao took it as his time to go. Zhongli, Rex Lapis, his previous master, was moving on, and Xiao thought he ought to do so, too. 

Zhongli was lucky to have someone like [Name] help him along the way.

“Did you like their company?” Zhongli asked, pulling Xiao out of his thoughts.

“They were all right. They don’t know as much history as you do,” replied Xiao. It had been a while since he traveled around Liyue with someone. Though he preferred solitude, to spend a day with someone made Xiao feel warm. But he doubted he would ever see them again. Their world and his world were completely different ones.

And then eventually [Name] would die, and Xiao and Zhongli would keep living. As Adepti, they had longer lifespans than their mortal counterparts, and Xiao didn’t want to see the day when [Name] were to be gone, and Zhongli would be all alone again.

But…

But time aside, everything else aside (if he were able to disregard everything and anything in the world), Xiao thought he might want to spend more time with them. He didn’t know what he felt. Or maybe he hadn’t felt it for a very long time. 

[Name] would make a very good friend.

But [Name] was busy, being a guild manager. They were Zhongli’s dear person, and they were someone Xiao couldn’t even dream of talking to again. Zhongli seemed to hold them up in such high regard… Xiao felt ashamed that he even questioned Zhongli. To be with them once more might as well be impossible.

Zhongli asked, “What else?”

“They’re not Guizhong,” said Xiao. Zhongli looked perplexed. “I would have expected that you choose a smarter lov—”

“It’s not like that,” said Zhongli.

“It’s not?” Xiao was surprised. He thought about the Lantern Rite. He thought about the way Zhongli looked at [Name]. He thought about their clasped hands. He thought about [Name] and their wicked ways of wording things. And then Xiao thought about himself. He thought about how he might appreciate their presence a bit more if he were to see them again. “Ah.”

Zhongli said, “So that’s what you were thinking.”

Then the idea of hanging out with [Name] was less impossible now.

Notes:

i wrote this while having a writers block and its unedited so sorry if any of them are ooc .. :P like
xiao: u gna hit that?
zhongli: ...no
xiao: shii i might

Chapter 7: The Wedding in Mondstadt

Summary:

[Name], Zhongli, Xingqiu, and Chongyun crash [Name]'s sister's wedding in Mondstadt. In other words, the dysfunctional family goes to Mondstadt!

“Master [NAME] ,” called Secretary Lu, “it seems a letter has arrived for you.”

“A letter!” chimed the master as they put down their pen. “I don’t get many letters these days…”

Secretary Lu cast a glance at the unopened envelopes on [Name]’s desk, bank return statements and thank you letters made up the considerable pile. “I can tell.” He set the tray containing a single letter on [Name]’s desk. “I believe this is from your youngest sister.”

[Name]’s brows furrowed. They picked up the letter, inspecting the back and the front.“That so? A bride-to-be shouldn’t be so concerned about sending letters to her older sibling when her wedding’s just a week away. I told her I would be there, rain or shine. Besides, it’s still strange of her to send a letter. Pigeon mail would be faster.”

“There aren’t many pigeons around these parts anymore,” the young secretary said cooly. “Someone’s been shooting them down.”

The multiple pages of work laid forgotten in front of [Name]. The guild master plucked a letter opener and cleanly sliced the envelope. They unfolded the leafy paper. Well, it was definitely their sister’s handwriting—scratched out and uneven letters of black ink.

Help me!! Stop the wedding pls!! Ok thanks <3

They took a moment to process the words before flinging themself to the front doors of their office. They pulled a coat from the coat rack and shrugged it on. [Name] stuffed the letter in their pocket. “Secretary Lu, I’m leaving for my sister’s wedding right now. Send my luggage after me in a few hours.”

[Name] initially didn’t mind who their sister married (they’d met the lucky guy once or twice, maybe three times, but he was overall unmemorable), but a good sibling ought to help out their little sister.

“Master [Name], you still have plenty of work to do!” Secretary Lu pointed out. He picked up the letter tray and scrambled after his employer. He looked betrayed, as if, for a moment, [Name] was actually going to work diligently today. “You told me—no, promised me—that you’d finish everything by tonight! There’s no reason for you to leave two days early!”

“Bye-bye!” sang the guild master as they slammed the door shut in Secretary Lu’s face. Secretary Lu waited. [Name] opened the doors again, poking their head through to look at the tired black-haired secretary, to add, “Can you tell the Golden House and the bank that I’ll be withdrawing a hefty amount of mora later?”

Lu said nothing.

[Name] patted the secretary’s shoulder. “Thanks, Lu. Bye for real now!”

The door closed. Secretary Lu took a deep breath in to steady himself.

Then the door opened again, and the bright guild manager [Name] said, “Oh, also—” They cut themself off after seeing the look on Secretary Lu’s face. [Name] faltered. “Okay, yeah, I’ll get going.” Weakly, [Name] pulled the door closed.

The first place [Name] went was down to the docks. 

They found Tartaglia conversing with a Snezhnayan merchant. Tartaglia had a hand on his hip as he amicably talked about business back in his home country. As always, his clothes had a bit of dirt on them from an earlier scuffle that he couldn’t seem to hold back on. The merchant was showcasing his collection, and Tartaglia bent down to inspect what was being sold.

Perhaps Tartaglia would be some use to [Name] outside of challenging them to a small scrimmage every now and then. Without a Vision, there was no possible way for [Name] to even try against Tartaglia, but Tartaglia waved this off and told [Name] to try their best. Sometimes people’s bests weren’t enough; people like Tartaglia wouldn’t know that, though.

“My!” said Tartaglia as he held up a piece of cloth. The merchant puffed up his chest as Tartaglia began to praise it. “If it isn’t genuine— holy fu —[Name]?”

“You,” said [Name] as they pulled down the cloth from his hands. “Come with me.”

“Huh?”

“Come.”

“Alright!”

[Name]’s next stop was the Wuwang Hill. 

Through the long stalks of the black trees, they spotted Xingqiu attempting to coerce Chongyun into a haunted house. Chongyun was gripping onto the sides of the threshold to prevent Xingqiu from pushing him inside the house. Xingqiu pressed into Chongyun’s back, adamant about Chongyun’s entry.

Despite the eeriness of the hill, Chongyun and Xingqiu were charming and familiar. The sound of their voices rang through the dark hill.

“Dude, you can’t make me go in there.”

“Chongyun! This house is haunted! Trust me, trust me! Wuwang Hill is filled with scary stuff like this,” Xingqiu pleaded. He placed his hands square on Chongyun’s back and pushed. “You ought to practice your exorcist stuff in there! Do some push ups or something.”

“The last time I trusted you, you laid traps inside the house!” Chongyun pointed out, his grip tighter on the sides of the doors. Xingqiu sighed and tried to heave his best friend inside. In terms of strength, Chongyun was likely stronger due to his claymore abilities.

“Chongyun.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please go in there, please go in there, please go in there, pleasegointherepleasegointhere —”

[Name] appeared behind the two boys. They placed a hand on each of their shoulders and smiled. The boys flinched in surprise, surely thinking [Name] was a legitimate ghost. “You… and you. Come with me.”

“Right now?” Chongyun asked.

“Yep.”

Soon after, [Name] poked their head through the doors of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. They pointed at Zhongli. “You,” they said.

“And me?” Hu Tao added hopefully.

[Name] left without saying anything else.

Zhongli was dumbfounded. He’d been cleaning a decorative plate when [Name] made their brief appearance. Hu Tao crossed her arms like a child (she was one). Zhongli set down the plate in its previous position before setting down the rag.

“Aiya, come on!” Hu Tao whined. Her hat wilted, expressing her sour mood, and she pulled at her pigtails. She looked like a sad, long-eared dog. “All the fun stuff happens with Master [Name]! Do you think I can come along as well, Mr. Zhongli?”

“Director, I’m going to take my break now. If you’ll excuse me,” said Zhongli, and he left, too.

Hu Tao was all alone. She pouted. “Oh, boo!”

Everyone that [Name] recruited congregated in the Feiyun Commerce Guild meeting room.

[Name] had a feeling that if they returned to the Wang Commerce Guild, Lu wouldn’t let them leave alive (or with all their limbs intact), so they wisely requested that Xingqiu’s father provide a room.

Tartaglia was tall enough to not exactly fit in the chair. His legs were stretched out, and his back was slumped against the chair. He fidgeted with a small wooden puzzle in his lap. [Name] recognized it as one of the toys the old lady at the corner of Liyue’s streets sold. Tartaglia was fascinated with its makings, his fingers pushing and twisting at the puzzle.

Xingqiu and Chongyun were quiet, comfortable with each other’s silence. Chongyun had his chin resting on his propped up leg as he ate a popsicle. [Name] had to ask one of these days where he kept these popsicles on his person. Xingqiu was reading a book.

Zhongli entered the room. “I hope I’m not late.”

[Name], who was hastily writing something on the blackboard at the front of the room, turned at the sound of Zhongli’s voice. They motioned to the rest of the empty seats at the meeting table, and the field seats were composed of Tartaglia, Xingqiu, and Chongyun. “Not at all! Sit down. We have cookies while I go over the game plan.”

[Name]’s apprentice bobbed his head up and clarified, “We actually do not have cookies.”

The consultant seated himself next to Tartaglia and read the blackboard. “Crashing my little sister’s weddi—[Name], what is this?”

“Yeah,” Tartaglia dryly quipped, “if you’re unhappy because you’re single, that’s no reason to ruin your little sister’s happiness.” [Name] glared at Tartaglia, who then raised his hands. “Of course, I’m glad to be a part of this! It seems fun!”

“My little sister sent me a letter of help. She doesn’t want to get married, so I hope that answers someone’s”—[Name] held their stare at Tartaglia—“qualms. She’s unsatisfied, and I’m going to stop her wedding because I care about her.”

Tartaglia raised his brows and set down his puzzle. “Are you the oldest?”

“Middle.”

“Hm. Makes sense.”

“What was that?”

Xingqiu raised his hand. [Name] took the motion. Xingqiu lowered his hand. “Ah, Master, this is your little sister’s wedding, so what part do we have?”

“I need help,” responded [Name]. Everyone looked close to opposing, but then [Name] added, “the trip will be, of course, at the expense of the Wang Commerce Guild, so don’t worry about the numbers. Think of it as a vacation with an agenda. A chaotic agenda.”

Upon hearing that it was a free vacation, most opposition died. Instead, questions rose. Zhongli asked, “Where will the wedding be held?”

“Mondstadt,” replied [Name]. “I always thought my sister would hold a Sumeru wedding since she grew up there, but it’s convenient for me that it’s in Mondstadt. Closer to me. My older brother can’t come because it’s way far from where he is.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to Mondstadt,” Zhongli said. “It’ll be good to visit a few old friends there. The dandelion wine there is excellent, and if you haven’t tried it yet, [Name], I could ask a friend to bring you some.”

“Mondstadt?” Tartaglia repeated. He let out a mournful sigh. “That’s where my coworker’s section is, dammit. I probably won’t be able to go to Mondstadt with you guys, which is a shame, because I like where this is going. In addition, I have to oversee the Fatui's Liyue-related finances… Even in times of turmoil, I have to stay loyal to my duties…”

Everyone was quiet.

Tartaglia’s duties were, more often than not, to cause turmoil.

[Name] rubbed their forehead. There went a part of their plan. No matter. “This is a shame. I was hoping to use you to—err, I mean… to use your connections, since you’re Fatui and all.” They realized that Tartaglia made no motion to get out of his seat. “Are you—Are you going to leave?”

“No?” said Tartaglia. “I’m interested in your plan. If there’s any way I can help without stepping foot in Mondstadt, I’d be happy to oblige.”

[Name] gave Tartaglia a weary eye. This coworker in Mondstadt must have been a true menace for Tartaglia to dislike them. [Name] picked up a pile of papers they compiled together—a plan. “Uh-huh… whatever. Okay, so according to Mondstadt wedding tradition, I should be given an option to object. I’ll be in the audience—to object. Then I’ll have to state my reasons why and etcetera. I’m going to plant Xingqiu and Chongyun in the audience as well for back-up.”

“If the boys”—Tartaglia motioned to Xingqiu and Chongyun—“are to come along, I’ll procure replicas of invitations. What did you say the groom’s name was? It ought to be listed under his name.”

“Sayid’s the groom’s name,” replied [Name], “but the wedding is under my sister’s name. She handled most of the fundings.”

“Ah, so your sister’s name, then?”

“Oh, um, Aisha.”

“A—” Tartaglia’s jaw was open. “Aisha? Aisha and Sayid’s wedding?”

“Yes,” said [Name], slowly and tentatively, “what about it?”

Tartaglia crossed his arms. “That wedding is so big it’s got the Fatui talking about it, too! Invitations are hard to get because they only go out to the wealthy and prominent. I was surprised the Fatui hadn’t received an invitation.”

“My family doesn’t deal with the Fatui, and they don’t have Fatui connections.”

“False. I’m your Fatui connection.”

[Name] rolled their eyes and flipped through the papers. “I had a look at the guest list myself a while back, and it seems more like a networking opportunity rather than a wedding. If you can’t get the invitations, that’s fine. I’ve created a master plan to smuggle Xingqiu and Chongyun in anyway. Here.”

Everyone in the room was handed a piece of paper, a copy of [Name]’s plan to sneak in Xingqiu and Chongyun. Zhongli scanned the paper before going, “[Name], by chance, do you take suggestions?”

“All suggestions can go in here.”

“[Name], that’s a trash can.”

[Name], who pulled the trash can from seemingly nowhere, grumpily stuck their tongue out at Zhongli. They crossed their arms. “Unless you have any other plans or brilliant ideas, we’re going with mine.”

Xingqiu weakly said, “I don’t know about this…”

Chongyun set the paper down. “I’m down.”

“Huh?”

“Great!” exclaimed [Name]. “Just follow your part through according to the plan. If you have any questions, just ask me, okay, Chongyun and Xingqiu? It’ll be fun!”

Zhongli said, “And about my part in your grand plan…?”

“Ooh, I nearly forgot,” said [Name]. They held up a finger. “You’re going to be my plus one!” Zhongli raised his brows. [Name] turned to everyone. “We leave tonight! Getting from Liyue to Mondstadt takes a few days if we go the long, safe route. I doubt any of you want to take a shortcut through Dragonspine. We’ll be there for a few days, so at least enjoy the festivities before I completely ruin my little sister’s wedding!”

Mondstadt was as beautiful as ZHONGLI remembered. Then again, Zhongli found a lot of things beautiful, from Liyue to its ruins of what once was, from Fontaine to its arts, from Mondstadt to its winds, and from [Name] to their smile. 

Ah, well, it looked more like a shit-eating grin now, he supposed.

[Name] was dressed accordingly to match Zhongli; they wore fine Liyue silks with sweet flower yellow threads weaving a design stark against the dark clothes. Gold paint rimmed under their eyes, similar to how Zhongli wore his paint. When [Name] smiled, the gold paint would shine along with their eyes, and he’d falter for a moment.

They ought to wear gold paint more often, he thought. No, they shouldn’t. He might not be able to think about anything else, if they did.

Zhongli wore a nice suit fit for weddings. Dark clothes, just as he preferred, with gold hem. Upon initial glance, it didn’t look much different from his usual wear, but he considered this suit to be more fancier. It was more expensive, after all. He would wear this when he’d visit Liyue during his times as Rex Incognito.

Though, he supposed, he was Rex Incognito now.

Mondstadt was a brilliant, godless city. Unlike Liyue, Mondstadt kept its people close, and its buildings closer. High stone walls surrounded Mondstadt’s city of freedom, keeping its citizens safe from any intruders, and because of this, all of the buildings were pushed together, cozy; music from bards would fill every alleyway, every corner, and every street, seemingly carried and amplified by the wind. The stores were near each other, and each owner knew the owner next door, and that owner knew the owner next to them as well. 

[Name]’s sister’s wedding had the upper half of Mondstadt decorated, where the cathedral of Barbatos was. At first, Zhongli had thought Tartaglia was exaggerating the importance and prestige of this wedding, but now that Zhongli was here, he could only marvel in the show that [Name]’s sister put on. Banners were strung all over and cecilia flowers in wreaths hung, as per Mondstadt wedding tradition. [Name]’s sister must have been considerably wealthy.

“Invitations?” a knight of Favonius, Mondstadt’s chosen line of defense, outside of the cathedral asked [Name]. Compared to Liyue’s Millelith, the Knights of Favonius had a less strict dress code and wore light armor above casual clothes only. [Name] handed the papers over. “Your names, please?”

“[Name],” said [Name], “of the Wang Commerce Guild, and my friend Zhongli.”

Once the couple was let in, Zhongli couldn’t hold back his thoughts any longer: “Your sister has the Knights of Favonius guarding her wedding?”

“‘Course,” replied [Name] cooly as they waved to a passing guest. “She’d enlist her own guards, but it’s a pain to bring them all the way from Sumeru.”

The cathedral, stained glass and fine stone, towered over the two, causing a nice overcast to provide shade on this afternoon; the cool wind blew against the white tents set up outside. Cecilia flowers wrapped in vines twirled on the lampposts and the tents. Long tables displayed an impressive amount of food with tall, clean waiters flowing in and out. Guests flocked from tent to tent, socializing and nibbling on the served snacks. 

“I’m surprised that you’re not with your sister behind the scenes. Isn’t that what family is for? To fuss over the bride before she’s married off?” Zhongli asked as [Name] handed him a drink. He took a sip. He was expecting alcohol or juice, but… “Is this water?”

[Name] made a face. They helped themself to a platter of food. Instead of picking and choosing various snacks, [Name] stole a whole plate of finger sandwiches from the table. A knight of Favonius watched them do it and was unsure if intervention was needed. “I was unable to go ahead of time. Managing a guild isn’t easy. Pushing off work to do later has its consequences, Zhongli.”

“Additionally, you introduced yourself as someone from the Wang Commerce Guild as well and not the bride’s sibling.”

“Ah. There’s a reason for that…” [Name] dodged their head away and lit up. They eagerly patted Zhongli’s arm to get his attention. “Oh, look, Zhongli! They’ve got snacks from Sumeru! I’ve got to try those. Would you like some? I’ll bring a few back. Or the whole plate… You stay put! Oh, and—keep an eye out for the wedding cake!”

[Name] handed him the plate of finger sandwiches and dashed off to the Sumeru snacks. He blinked and they were gone. Zhongli awkwardly ate a finger sandwich. It wasn’t too bad.

Zhongli perused the rest of the tent, not staying put as [Name] requested. It was just as [Name] had said: the wedding looked more like a networking event rather than… a wedding. It led Zhongli to wonder what sort of family [Name] had come from. [Name] was surprisingly quiet about their personal affairs. Zhongli knew little about them outside of their personality.

They gave off the feeling of a person whom you thought you knew very well, when in actuality, you knew very little. He wouldn’t be surprised if [Name]’s favorite color was a hideous, bright pink, or a toned down, soft gold. 

Zhongli didn’t even know what [Name] did in their free time. He’d seen them do all crazy things in Liyue. Sometimes, they’d be parading around a Kamera, and other times, they’d be carrying around a large wrapped canvas. And then, on certain days, they’d fall from the sky. 

The consultant settled at a certain tent with minimal people and a table with alcohol and Mondstadt culinary delights. There were only two others at the tent—both men. One was sitting with his legs crossed, swishing a glass, and the other was standing, surveying the guests with an eagle’s eye. It might have been the thick atmosphere between them that cast people away. Zhongli set down his glass of water and took a slice of pizza.

“I hope you’re restraining yourself, Kaeya,” said the man with the eagle’s eye. He bore a lion mane’s hair of red, tied up in a high pony. His Pyro Vision was hanging off of his belt, free for everyone to see. His voice was clear and each word was well annunciated, as if it were an octave off from being sarcastic. “Alcohol is always served best after the party’s over.”

The cross-legged man, or Kaeya, as the eagle man called him, let out a laugh. Contrast to the red-haired man, Kaeya had blue hair swept to the side with an eyepatch to boot. “Oh, please, Master Diluc, like you would know anything about alcohol and timing.”

Master Diluc frowned. “I know plenty.”

Zhongli recalled the name Diluc. Venti, Zhongli’s old friend, told him about Master Diluc and his winery and tavern. Master Diluc was Mondstadt’s most eligible bachelor; there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t have. He had wealth from his work in the wine industry, looks from his family, and a reserved personality that made plenty swoon and swear they could change him.

Venti, however, boasted about Master Diluc’s dandelion wine, which, Zhongli had to admit, was as praise-worthy as the rumors called for.

“Sure.” Kaeya didn’t sound convinced. “It’s so strange of you to be a welcome sponsor for Miss Aisha and her groom. You barely hold this much enthusiasm for the Knights of Favonius—an equally important organization.”

“It’s called courtesy , Kaeya. Miss Aisha is to be here for a few more months, as per her fiance’s request, and it wouldn’t harm the world if I were to make connections. Sumeru’s academy and intelligence may improve the wine industry, and Miss Aisha owns a considerably large library and laboratory in Sumeru.”

Kaeya made a barfing noise. “Business. You gave up Father’s legacy for this? Wearing sad, ugly clothes and using happy events to network?”

“Black is neither sad nor ugly.” Before Kaeya could say more, Master Diluc added, “Everyone is here to network, Kaeya. Look around. Miss Aisha’s family is economically conquering Teyvat. I wouldn’t expect you to know that, since your… Knights of Favonius lackeys have more pressing matters to deal with, such as slime extermination and rescuing cats from trees.”

“Now, now, don’t be uncivil,” replied Kaeya. “Cats are lovely creatures. You’re horrible for that comment.”

Zhongli had a feeling that this matter was very personal. If the two men noticed Zhongli behind them, picking at the pizza, they didn’t say a single word. Instead, they continued their conversation. It was less a conversation than an excuse to jab at each other every other line.

“As I was saying, Miss Aisha’s family is nationally acclaimed and very, very wealthy, so show respect and be courteous,” said Diluc. “It’s not every day do we get a chance to interact with business people like her. If we’re lucky, we may see some of her family members.”

Zhongli nearly dropped his pizza.

“I’m well-aware.” Kaeya waved a dismissive hand, as if to get his friend to stop nagging. “Dominating economic power whatever. There’s always a dark side with families like those. Oh, say, Master Diluc, could you pour me a bit more of this wine?”

Diluc clucked his tongue. “They should ban you from all events that serve alcohol.”

“You’re so coldhearted . They should ban you from being a bit—”

The tall and polite Zhongli left the conversation. 

He’d known that [Name]’s aunt was the late head of the Wang Commerce Guild, an organization that [Name] succeeded, but he hadn’t given much thought about the rest of their family. Like their parents, or siblings, or any other distant relatives. [Name]’s business outside of Liyue was not known to Zhongli. It surprised him, just a bit, just enough for him to want to know more. [Name] was full of surprises, little and large.

Zhongli noticed [Name] chatting away with a young woman who wore purple with plentiful jewelry. Her brown hair was clipped up with a lavender-colored rose, and her corset was pulled tight around her nice dress.

Was [Name] making connections? Zhongli felt proud that other people got to see [Name]’s brilliant business side. 

“Hello,” said Zhongli as he resumed his spot by [Name]’s spot. He patted [Name]’s back. [Name] brightened up, like the gold color of his Vision, and handed him a cup of a Sumeru drink. Zhongli took it gratefully. He nodded to the woman [Name] was talking to before lifting the cup to his lips. It was a good drink.

The young woman, upon seeing him, smiled. “ Oh… I’m Lisa, librarian of the Knights of Favonius.” She spoke with the ever-so familiar Mondstadt lilt. “And who are you?”

“Zhongli,” offered the consultant simply, the name coming naturally to his tongue now, “of nothing in particular. I’m only [Name]’s plus one.”

“You don’t say,” said Lisa. She turned to [Name]. “You keep handsome company.”

“Do I?” [Name] said wryly. “Birds of a feather flock together.”

Lisa laughed. “I’m excited for the bride. Though I haven’t had the chance to speak with her properly, I hear she’s a very intelligent woman, elegant and all. As expected from her familial line! Maybe if she chooses to stay in Mondstadt, she can be my little helper.”

“Oh, I don’t think she’s suited for a librarian sort of job,” [Name] admitted.

“Hm? You’ve met her?” Lisa seemed intrigued. “Who am I kidding? You’re a commerce guild manager. You know tons of social information.”

“You could say that.”

[Name] quickly concluded the conversation with Lisa the librarian; Zhongli learned that she was one of the brightest students Sumeru Academy had ever seen, and it was even more surprising that she chose to retire in the land of the godless. The more Zhongli dwelled on it, he wondered if [Name] would ever choose to retire in Mondstadt. The uptight Liyue was no fit for the charismatic tycoon.

Liyue needed [Name], truthfully.

Just minutes before the wedding started, [Name] and Zhongli sat in their spots inside the cathedral.

They were seated next to a pale blond who was more enraptured in his clipboard than he was the actual wedding. A small girl with protruding elf-like ears, donned in all red, tugged the hem of his clothes. The blond brought his head up, and upon seeing the girl, he smiled and rubbed the girl’s head. 

Zhongli noticed [Name] was staring at him. It was a pointed, unsure stare, like they were studying a statue instead of an actual person. Zhongli knitted his brows together.

“Did you brush your hair back today?” [Name] asked.

“Yes,” Zhongli replied, running a self-conscious hand through his hair. A small lock fell over his forehead, just a whisper above his thick lashes. “It’s wedding attire, and it’s your sister’s wedding, to top it all off. I ought to dress nice for the occasion.”

“You always dress nice,” said [Name], miffed. “You’re a walking suit closet back in Liyue.”

Zhongli smiled. “I hope I’m a nicer looking suit closet now. Is my hair that strange?”

“No,” hummed [Name]. “You look nice. Where’s the wedding cake?”

Zhongli scanned the room. Now that the wedding was starting soon, people were congregating in the seating area, finding their respective seats. He was grateful [Name] and him were a bit early; who knows what would have happened if they were caught up in this crowd.

He found Lisa the librarian sitting near a blonde lady wearing blue. Surprisingly, a sword was attached to her hip. The blonde lady laughed at what Lisa was saying. Near the choir, Zhongli saw a girl with bobbing pigtails, maybe Xingqiu and Chongyun’s age, who was berating a tall, maroon-colored hair nun. Despite it being a wedding, the nun wore dark, gothic colors. She looked like she would rather be anywhere but here.

The groom’s family was talking, excited, near the front of the pews.

Zhongli found the large wedding cake near the altar, just behind where the groom would stand. It was perfectly decorated with cecilias, windwheel asters, and pearls. It might have been as tall as Zhongli. There was no reason why anyone should order a cake that large. He nudged [Name] and nodded to the cake. [Name] looked at it, hungry.

The lights dimmed, as the nuns began to blow out the candles. The wedding was starting now. Zhongli and [Name], who were granted seats at the end of the row, could garner a good look at [Name]’s sister. 

Music commenced, and the doors opened. People paraded down the row, all wearing pretty gowns and suits. 

A young boy with goggles planted on his head and ashy blond hair carried a basket of flower petals. He tossed them in the air. And then he tripped over nothing at all. The flower petals flew everywhere. Embarrassed, the young boy picked up the basket and scurried faster down the row. Soon after, a brown-haired girl with a large, red bow walked down with the rings on a pillow. She waved enthusiastically around the cathedral, drawing more attention to her rather than the groom.

The groom, Sayid, was… He was certainly there. Round, golden glasses with a heart-shaped face. He was a bit bland compared to the rest of the festivities, but he was nice-looking. 

Once everyone was situated at the altar, [Name]’s sister appeared.

[Name]’s sister was tall—the first thing Zhongli noticed out of everything. She walked as if she had somewhere to be after this, which was strange because today was her wedding day. She really did not want to get married. [Name]’s sister wasn’t wearing a veil at all, either, and there was no family member at her side.

It was just her, dressed in white, with furrowed brows and a sharp glare.

She bore curly black hair and brown skin, visible because of her broad shoulders. [Name]’s sister paused in the middle of the row, in the middle of her wedding to look up at the sun through the window, as if to measure the time. Then she continued moseying down the row.

Her sleeveless dress was beautiful with a skirt that flowed out from the waist, long and poofy. Decorations of Mondstadt flora decorated the hem of the white gown, and the corset emphasized [Name]’s sister’s strict posture. No veil . No bouquet of flowers . Sayid looked distraught but attempted to hide it by adjusting his glasses.

[Name]’s sister met up with her groom at the altar. Just before she joined hands with the groom, [Name] shot their hand up.

Oh my god, Zhongli thought. [Name] wouldn’t be that stupid as to object now—

“I object!” exclaimed [Name]. Everyone turned to them. People gasped. “Bitch!” More gasps ensued. Zhongli could see Kaeya, the man with an eyepatch and blue hair, try to stifle a laugh from the front of the cathedral.

They’re just that stupid! Zhongli whirled his head to the guild manager, his jaw nearly dropping open. There was a part of him that wanted to laugh because [Name] was dauntless and admirable. He smiled, but still— that’s way too early, [Name]!

Sayid, the groom, exclaimed, “What’s your sibling doing here, Aisha? I thought we agreed to keep your freak siblings away from our wedding!”

“I’m not Aisha’s freak sibling,” said [NAME] . “I’m [Name]. Of the Wang Commerce Guild.” Zhongli, next to them, suddenly made a face of understanding. Sayid didn’t make much of an impression on [Name], but [Name] made plenty of an impression on anyone they met. Sayid wasn’t particularly fond of [Name]’s family (understandably), so Aisha, [Name]’s sister, found a loophole.

Aisha looked delighted at the sight of her sibling. 

“???” Sayid was taken aback. “Then does that mean your demonic weird older brother is here?”

“No, he couldn’t be arsed,” said [Name], waving a hand in dismissal. The blond seated next to Zhongli and [Name] scooted a bit away. “The distance is too great. But, um, I’ve digressed. Stop the—Stop the wedding!”

“There is an allotted time in which you can object,” Sayid pointed out. “Save your—”

[Name] said, “No! No one wants to see you get married!” They turned around to the quiet audience. The only noise that could be heard was from the boy with goggles, who sneezed. “Right?” Zhongli was tempted to agree, but [Name] was moving too fast. Upon hearing no response, [Name] crossed their arms, frustrated. “Where’s Xingqiu and Chongyun?”

Sayid turned to Aisha. “Aisha, what is going on? We dreamed about this for the longest time! This is the perfect wedding—”

“No,” said Aisha. She threw down her hands. “This is the stupidest wedding ever!”

“Huh?” Sayid’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? It’s perfect! It adheres perfectly to Mondstadt tradition, save for your father not being here… and you walking down the aisle without a veil or bouquet… but it was perfect! Nearly perfect!”

Aisha tucked a curl behind her ear. [Name] suddenly felt very hot in the room. Aisha only did that when she was preparing to yell at someone. Sometimes it was [Name]. Sometimes it was her stupid groom-to-be Sayid. Aisha let out a huff of a breath.

“It wasn’t perfect—it was expensive !” Aisha corrected. “I paid for nearly everything because you wanted a stupid Mondstadt-themed wedding in Mondstadt with Mondstadt guests! You freaked when you found out I was serving snacks from Sumeru—mind you, our home nation?”

[Name] tried to imagine Aisha as an assistant librarian. It didn’t work. [Name] then heard someone behind them murmur, “Oh my god.” Before [Name] could see who it was, the argument between Aisha and Sayid took precedence when the volume of Aisha and Sayid’s voices began to rise. [Name] awkwardly scooched closer to Zhongli.

“Is Mondstadt not a beautiful, noteworthy nation?” questioned Sayid. “I was here during the Stormterror Incident, and I was lucky to have recorded it! Our Sumeru friends were grateful for my data. Being here is worthwhile and celebrating here is worthwhile!”

“And then what? We’d stay here forever? We’ve been here for months, Sayid! I’m done! I want to go home because I have a library to oversee and friends to talk to!” Aisha had an accusatory finger pointed at Sayid, but then she tried to steady herself. She put her hand down and crossed her arms, looking to see what her groom had to say.

“Do you hate Mondstadt that much?”

“No,” said Aisha primly, “but I think I hate you.”

The audience gasped dramatically. 

“When I wanted to marry you, I wanted a Sumeru wedding with my Sumeru friends. It’s something that’s important to me, Sayid. It’s the culture that we grew up with, and I am most comfortable with. You went off and made all the preparations for a Mondstadt wedding with my funds,” said Aisha. “You’re sick.”

“We were engaged for months, Aisha! I thought it was something you wanted, too—”

“You used my family’s library to satiate your scholar activities, and when that wasn’t enough for you, you began to travel. I wanted to see the world as well, so I traveled with you. And then you ended up here in Mondstadt, and now you don’t want to leave? I’m tired of this city! I’m tired of it! And I’m tired of you —”

Sayid snorted. “So instead of talking to me, you resorted to inviting your family behind my back to disrupt the wedding? So you could have an excuse to yell at me?”

“That was the most horrible thing you’ve done, Sayid! You wouldn’t let me invite my own siblings, but your family is here?”

The audience watched back and forth as the bride and groom argued. The cake in the back rumbled a bit. Sayid had his body turned, as if he was refusing to look at her. Aisha had her skirts bunched up. She wasn’t letting this argument go.

“That’s because your family is weird !”

“You’re weird ! You’re a Mondstadt enthusiast freak!” Aisha put a hand over her chest. “My family is respectable ! My uncle is intelligent! My brother is strong! My aunt is crafty! [Name] is…” She trailed off, casting a glance to [Name] before continuing. “And I am hard-working!”

“What the hell,” said [Name]. “She just skipped over me.”

Aisha said, “I don’t want to get married to you. Get out.”

“You can’t kick me out of my own wedding,” Sayid protested as he backed up. [Name] watched the cake behind him. Hopefully this event would turn out well in the end because they really wanted to eat it. 

Aisha went still. “You’re right. This is your wedding. Not mine. Get married to Mondstadt for all I care. I’m going to take everything that I paid for and hold a different party.”

“At what venue?”

“I’ll find one,” snapped Aisha. She paused. “Or maybe I’ll rent out this one at a higher price. Though I’m sure it violates some contract, all beings eventually bow down to the power of mora , and my family has plenty of that!”

“You can’t do this,” said Sayid. “You’re being irrational. We have to get married, and it’ll be perfe—”

The cake behind Sayid fell on him. Three discordant screams followed.

One was from Sayid. The other two…

Xingqiu and Chongyun popped up from the fallen cake, white frosting and crumbs all over the place. [Name]’s master plan to sneak in Xingqiu and Chongyun worked! To a degree… Chongyun covered Xingqiu’s mouth to stop him screaming, and Xingqiu covered Chongyun’s mouth.

They were desperately holding onto each other out of fear after toppling the cake over as the passed-out Sayid laid below them. They were completely covered in the sweet pastry, unrecognizable to the people of Mondstadt, and the only uncovered spot were their eyes. Xingqiu’s dark blue eyes blinked. Chongyun’s light blue eyes scanned the crowd.

“How did you guys get in there?” Aisha exclaimed. She stepped far away from the cake, still holding the skirts of her dress. “Who are you guys?”

“Xingqiu! Chongyun!” called out [Name]. “Over here! Let’s get you washed up.”

The wedding ended with Sayid’s family having to drag him out from under the crushed cake. Sayid’s family swore vengeance or something of the like upon Aisha and her family, but Aisha dismissed it all with a noncommittal hum, glad to get rid of her groom-to-be. The audience was unsure of what to do, but Aisha, with her typical charisma, encouraged them to have fun still, as it was a new party—a post-wedding party but without the wedding.

The nuns began to sweep up the cake inside the cathedral, glaring at Chongyun and Xingqiu, who technically made the mess. The tall, black-wearing nun spoke especially obscene words, but [Name] covered Chongyun and Xingqiu’s ears.

Once the dust had settled and most people were outside of the cathedral, enjoying themselves, [Name], Zhongli, and the cake-covered Chongyun and Xingqiu finally and officially met [Name]’s younger sister, Aisha. [Name] was terribly proud of Chongyun and Xingqiu, holding them close even if they got cake all over [Name]’s nice clothes. Chongyun licked a bit of cake from his hand.

“This is the first time I’ve experienced a wedding like that,” admitted Zhongli. He dusted a crumb from Chongyun’s messy hair. “And I don’t have many firsts left. I’ve lived for a long time.”

“Don’t mind him, Aisha,” said [Name]. “He’s like, thirty.”

Aisha opened her mouth but realized Xingqiu wanted to say something.

Xingqiu furrowed his brows. “Miss Aisha, why wouldn’t your groom let you send out invitations to your family? That’s awfully rude…”

“Ooh,” said Aisha as she waved a hand, “yeah… last time my family and his met, [Name] and our older brother got into a small fight and broke a very rare silverware set of theirs. I can understand their resentment, but they’re my family.”

Chongyun ate a piece of cake from his sleeve. “You seem very strong, Miss Aisha. Why’d you need Master [Name] to help? They didn’t really do anything other than instigate it.”

“Moral support?” Aisha shrugged. “All the fun things seem to happen around [Name], so you can’t go wrong with having them around, yes? If not fun, then disastrous… disaster is fun, too, if you’re the one who started it!” Aisha laughed. “Enough questions. It’s time for me to ask the questions! [Name], who’re these people?”

[Name] chewed on fisherman’s toast. “Uhh… Zhongli, my official plus one. He’s a funeral parlor consultant back in Liyue. Xingqiu is my apprentice for whatever reason, and Chongyun is Chongyun.”

“Looks like you’ve got yourself quite the family!” exclaimed Aisha. She reached out to squeeze Chongyun’s cheeks but refrained since he was still covered in cake. A crumb fell from Chongyun’s shirt, and one of the nuns swept it away. Aisha clasped her hands together. “They’re adorable.”

“Really?” 

[Name] looked at Zhongli, a fully grown man, next to them. They took another bite of their food. Adorable? Him? 

“I take it you’ve settled into Liyue nicely?” Aisha asked. “Ahh, I’m jealous. I haven’t been to Sumeru in forever. I’ll let you know when I’m in town so I can crash with you.”

“I’d rather you stay in an inn.”

“So mean. This is why you don’t have a significant other.”

“You just broke it off with your groom!” [Name] went to wrangle Aisha, but Zhongli held them back. Aisha laughed as she backed away. “Get back here, fucker!”

Eventually, [Name] thrashed around so much that Zhongli just had to let them go. [Name] chased Aisha around the pews of the cathedral. [Name] commanded Xingqiu and Chongyun to capture their sister. Despite the nuns cleaning up what was left of the cake, two hyper teenage boys running around made even more of a mess.

The glass reflected the setting sun, just bobbing over the smooth hills of Mondstadt, and the shadows of the running girl, the guild manager, and two boys grew tall and taller. Aisha giggled as she made a circle around a column before dashing in a completely separate direction. [Name] crashed into the column before speeding after her. 

“I’m going to beat your ass!” [Name] hollered. 

Cake accumulated at the hem of Aisha’s dress. She lifted up her skirts and kicked off her shoes. Frosting footprints littered all over the cathedral. Chongyun stumbled over the dirty floor, nearly hitting the stagnant Zhongli. Zhongli steadied Chongyun, and Chongyun was back to chasing after Aisha with Xingqiu instead of mediating the situation. 

Aisha hopped over a pew. [Name] followed. Then Xingqiu. Then Chongyun. 

The smell of sweet wafted in the air. [Name] supposed it was that same smell that followed Zhongli, sometimes—on the days he seemed less like a lost god who’s lived a million lifetimes over and more of a just a mortal like them. [Name] stopped chasing Aisha for a moment and waved to Zhongli; he didn’t seem like the type to follow them off and out, and they wouldn’t force him to, either.

Zhongli gave a small wave back and crossed his arms, watching [Name] turn around and continue running.

[Name] launched themself over to Aisha, who narrowly dodged them. Aisha and [Name] scampered around the cathedral with Chongyun and Xingqiu in tow. [Name] tackled Aisha, and Xingqiu and Chongyun followed in quick succession, overpowering the bride. Aisha let out a hoarse laugh as she fell to the ground.

Eventually the nuns kicked all of them out, even Zhongli, who didn’t do anything.

Zhongli took Chongyun and Xingqiu to eat plenty of food at the tents. A few people gave them weird stares, as Chongyun and Xingqiu had yet to clean up from hiding in a cake. Zhongli gave Xingqiu and Chongyun snacks from Sumeru, and [Name] smiled at the sight.

[Name] and Aisha sat at the top of the cathedral steps, weary from the day’s events. Aisha rested her head on [Name]’s shoulder. [Name] pushed their cheek against Aisha’s hot scalp and let out a very sad sigh. Aisha’s skirts took up a good portion of the stairwell, and [Name] angrily patted the poofs away to make room so they could stretch out their legs. Aisha berated them, saying not to ruin the wedding dress. [Name] pulled Aisha’s ear.

“Your bridal gift was stupid,” said Aisha. “I loved it. I’m going to bring it everywhere with me.”

[Name] yawned. “You better. I spent a lot of time on that painting, you know.”

“Mhhm. I could tell. Our older brother got me a sword, though.”

[Name] wrinkled their nose. “Ewww.”

Aisha patted [Name]’s head and handed them a box. [Name] shook the box. Aisha said, “He also mailed you this box. You sent them to him for repair, and mailing takes forever in Teyvat, especially since you and he live across the continent. In his letter, he apologizes for the time it took.”

“Finally!” [Name] hugged the box to their chest. “Thank you, Aisha, and tell him thank you for me, too. I ought to paint him something myself to express my gratitude.”

“He’ll hate it.”

“I think he’ll like it!”

“No, he’ll hate it.”

Notes:

hi guys!! i listen to music when i write so here's a little SPOTIFY playlist for u guys to listen to if u want!!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6pm3lcn8xYcWPk3v3qa6gI?si=7129570bb7424e08

Chapter 8: Stand By Me

Summary:

Zhongli is the only person to notice the traveler's strange name changes; Xiao and [Name] meet in the Guili Plains, where [Name] reveals what their weapon is; Xiao makes some unsettling realizations about his feelings regarding [Name].

“Hello,” said ZHONGLI, “traveler.”

The traveler bobbed her head up. She carried a basket of glaze lilies, and Paimon was in the middle of eating one. Lumine smiled. “Mr. Zhongli! What are you doing here?”

Zhongli looked around Liyue Harbor. “I live here?”

[Name] had to cancel their plans to lunch last minute, leaving Zhongli with two hours of free time and an unused reservation at a nice Liyue restaurant. Zhongli wanted to reschedule the reservation for a later time when [Name] was available. [Name] said something about heading toward the Guili Plains for some business, though what kind of business would happen amidst fallen ruins was beyond Zhongli. He didn’t put anything past them at this point.

He might have offered to go with them, but [Name] was dead-set on going alone, and Zhongli didn’t have many good memories from the Guili Plains.

Paimon spewed out the petals of the lily. Ningguang and her coworkers would notice it soon and have it cleaned up. Lumine and Paimon had no sense of authority and therefore did whatever they wished around the city. Zhongli felt bad for the fauna and flora around Liyue—lives he once sacrificed plenty to protect.

“How was Master [Name]’s sister’s wedding?” Lumine asked. She tucked a blonde lock away and uprooted a glaze lily from the ground. “I couldn’t get myself an invitation because I was busy with the Harbinger. Mondstadt is really… something, huh.”

“It was beautiful,” agreed Zhongli.

“Windblume’s coming up, so maybe that’s why.”

Zhongli racked his head. Windblume… ah, a festival dedicated to love and admiration. It would be nice to return to Mondstadt to experience such a festival. There would surely be plenty of games and festivities to take part in. It may be something [Name] would enjoy. Zhongli paused. Why was he thinking about [Name]?

The consultant wondered how many people Lumine likely knew at the wedding; being Mondstadt’s honorary knight may allow her to have connections between the two city states. When she’d reach Inazuma, no doubt her reputation would skyrocket. It may become some sort of an honor to know Lumine in the first place.

Zhongli considered Lumine to be a respectable young woman who always did what she was asked without—

“Oh, xXBloodGothXx, it’s funny seeing you here,” Xingqiu, [Name]’s apprentice and younger counterpart in merchant society, said as he appeared next to Zhongli. Xingqiu had a habit of appearing anywhere and everywhere with his innate ability to draw mischief around him.

The words finally registered in Zhongli’s mind.

“Pardon?” Zhongli asked Xingqiu.

Xingqiu realized he forgot to greet his elder. “Mr. Zhongli, my apologies—”

“No, it’s quite alright,” said Zhongli, waving a hand, “but what did you just call the traveler?”

“By her name…?”

“Her name being…?”

“xXBloodGothXx…?”

“Right...” Zhongli shook his head. Had Lumine’s name always been something so strange? He was sure that her name was Lumine not xXBloodGothXx. Surely he wasn’t going insane. No. He couldn’t possibly be going insane. Maybe Lumine had changed her name! No, it couldn’t have been possible, as Lumine went by Lumine yesterday. It was too quick of a change.

Xingqiu said, “xXBloodGothXx, would you happen to know where Master [Name] is?” Lumine shook her head, and Xingqiu turned to the consultant. “Or Mr. Zhongli? You always know where they are.”

As much as Zhongli hated it, Xingqiu was right. “Ah, they’re at the Guili Plains right now.”

“When they return, I will find them… or maybe Secretary Lu could take a look at my poetry. He seems like a nice guy.” Xingqiu lit up. “You know, at first, Secretary Lu seems strict, but only towards Master [Name]; I actually quite like him!”

Zhongli couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Xingqiu’s shoulders and spun him around when Lumine wasn’t looking—she was too busy ruining the ancient land of Liyue Harbor to care. Zhongli lowered his head to match Xingqiu’s height and spoke in a quiet tone: “Did Miss Lumine change her name?”

“Who is Lumine?” asked Xingqiu. 

“What.”

“Mr. Zhongli…”

“I mean, xXBloodGothXx…” corrected Zhongli, embarrassed. This had to be some sort of prank or trick. Maybe [Name] instigated it? Maybe that was why they retreated all the way to the Guili Plains. “Was her name xXBloodGothXx from the start?”

Xingqiu wrinkled his nose. “Of course. Mr. Zhongli, this may seem inappropriate, but maybe it’s a culture thing, and we shouldn’t judge her. Do you remember that she came from a different world? Maybe xXBloodGothXx has some valiant meaning behind it.”

Zhongli was dumbfounded.

[Name]’s apprentice patted Zhongli on the back and turned around. “xXBloodGothXx, would you like to read my poem? I worked really hard on it!”

Lumine took the paper. “This is illegible.”

“Thank you,” said Xingqiu. “Your praise means so much to me, HoesMad!”

“Pardon?” Zhongli asked. “Who?”

Xingqiu made a face. “The traveler? Her name is HoesMad?”

Oh my God, Zhongli thought. I’m going insane.

 

---

There was a loud explosion in the Guili Plains.

There was the sound of metal crashing against stone, then a hilichurl’s scream, then a high-pitched squeal of Archons-know-what, then a cat’s yowl, then the sound of an anvil falling from the sky, then wooden boxes being smashed, and finally, a casual, familiar voice that said, “Oops. Well, fuck.”

XIAO gripped his pole arm. He rushed to the scene, fast against the wind, or maybe even faster. His Vision, Anemo out of all things, allowed him to strengthen his very being, but it weighed heavy on his soul. Oftentimes, it left him confused. Xiao pretty much came to the conclusion that if he didn’t think about the Vision, then sometimes he could pretend it didn’t exist. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

When he arrived at the place of the explosion, he sensed no evil or festering spirits. Instead, there was a young guild master surrounded by unconscious hilichurls. The scene was in complete disarray. There was a hilichurl-constructed roadblock that was on fire, and a few hilichurls were piled up, groaning and moaning. The boxes were smashed under the guild master’s feet, and the guild master looked surprisingly guilty. They winced at the sound of the road block falling apart, its ashes scattering in the wind.

The guild master noticed Xiao. “Oh, it’s you! Xiao, Conqueror of Demons or whatever.”

Xiao’s knuckles turned white. “Yes,” he gritted out. “That is me.”

“I don’t think I introduced myself last time. I’m [Name].”

“I know,” Xiao said and he ambled closer to where the guild manager was. He inspected the scene. Xiao prodded a hilichurl with the end of his pole arm. The hilichurl wasn’t dead, but it was definitely knocked out. “Did you do this?”

[Name] went quiet. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

“No.”

“They attacked me. It was self defense. And an accident.”

Xiao stared at [Name]. If anything, [Name] was the one attacking. He didn’t have time to deal with silly mortals with silly ways of talking. [Name] didn’t have a Vision, to Xiao’s knowledge. Or at least, it wasn’t visible on their person. They must have had a Vision to cause this much destruction. 

“You look like you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t.” Xiao put away his pole arm. He crossed his arms. Zhongli may be worried if [Name] gets hurt. Xiao would never forgive himself if they did get hurt, either. There were far worse things out here than hilichurls. Could someone like [Name] take on a Ruin Hunter? Or a Fatui member? “What are you doing out here? It’s dangerous here. You should be… wherever you belong. Liyue Harbor? Guili Plains isn’t worth the tour.”

“That’s so dumb,” complained [Name], waving their hand in dismissal. “I was out here practicing—away from civilization.”

“Practicing what? Hilichurl extermination?”

[Name] groaned. “That was an accident. No, my weapons came home not too long ago. They were in a freak accident back in Fontaine, so I had to send them away to get fixed. It’s been a while since I’ve picked them up, so I’m rusty. Unlike some people, I don’t carry a six foot pole arm and a scary expression at all times.”

Xiao warily looked at the guild manager. He ignored their quip. [Name] didn’t need a weapon. If they ever got kidnapped, they’d be returned within the first thirty minutes due to their strange personality. “You carry weapons?”

“Do I not look like it? I don’t have a Vision,” explained [Name]. They looked annoyed, as if they had this conversation over and over again. “It’s innate and rare. There’s only one Vision-wielder in my family, so I’ve got to catch up somehow.”

“Okay,” said Xiao. “Didn’t ask for your life story.”

“I could talk about my family for hours…”

“Please don’t.” Xiao turned away and began to walk. There was work to be done. Work outside of Guild Master [Name] or whatever. As much as he wanted to know what they were doing, it might be best to stay out of their way for now. Though, for a small moment, he wished—“Are you following me?”

[Name] was indeed following Xiao, leaving the destruction behind. “Do you want to hear about my family?”

“No.” Maybe.

[Name] jogged up to Xiao. Xiao scooted away from them. [Name] smiled. “Come on. Then you’ll get to talk about your family or your life after me. It’s an exchange of information.”

Xiao’s throat bobbed up and down. His family and his life… how pathetic. He walked a bit faster than [Name], hoping they’d falter and turn around. Or maybe he wanted to see if they’d pursue on and keep talking to him. He didn’t know what he wanted. Making friends with his longevity wasn’t worth it. No, it wasn’t worth it at all. “I have nothing to tell you.”

[Name] caught up. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” They reached into their pocket and retrieved a paper photo of their family. “Okay, so this is my youngest sister Aisha. She’s the Vision-wielder. She’s Pyro!”

Xiao picked up his pace.

“Okay, okay, this is Bruno—my older brother! He’s in Natlan right now because he stayed with my mother and father”—their legs were going faster than their words—“Xiao, you need to slow down. Anyway, Bruno is a blacksmith! He fixed up my weapons for me, which I’m really happy about.”

By God, did [Name] really like their family that much? How normal they were. Xiao didn’t know what to do. He knew that they might make a good friend, if not a grand friend, but was Xiao worthy? Zhongli deemed [Name] great enough to hang around, though Zhongli was “mortal” now and Xiao was not. Xiao would never be mortal, and he didn’t want to see another death of a loved one again.

That’s it. He shouldn’t be friends with them. No. He changed his mind. Enough about friends and family. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t handle it. [Name] didn’t understand what it was like to live for a long, long time. 

And the Guili Plains were dangerous. The places Xiao ventured were even more so, because he had to conquer evil. If [Name] were to get into it...

Xiao stopped. [Name] looked thankful as they caught their breath. He snapped, “What do you want, mortal?”

[Name] straightened up and sent him a thumbs-up. “I’m lost!”

“Liyue Harbor is that way.” Xiao pointed to the right, irritated. [Name] could get hurt if they lingered any longer. “I don’t need dead weight.”

“Dude, you’re like a cat.”

Xiao managed the nastiest glower he could. “The hell does that mean?”

[Name] raised their hands in surrender. “I like cats!” They must have noticed Xiao’s dismay with the comment, so they changed the topic. “So, do I just keep walking that way? And then I’ll make it to Liyue Harbor? Like, no lefts, no rights, no nothing? Just straight?”

“Just straight.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve lived in Liyue for a while.”

“Alright,” [Name] said with finality. They looked him up and down, as if to judge him and his expression. “It seems I’ve bothered you for too long, Xiao. I’ll see you around—oh, and I’ll tell Zhongli that I saw you. Thanks for showing me the way!”

When [Name] left, Xiao sighed.

Peace. Quiet. Nice. He continued on his way, navigating through the long stalks of grass. Xiao picked up a sunsettia from a nearby tree. How fortunate. It seemed the monsters had the common decency to leave the fruit trees alone.

The monsters… [Name]... 

No, they ought to be fine, right? Xiao tossed his head over his shoulder. They should be fine. He saw them (well, heard them) blow up a bunch of hilichurls. He should keep going forward, because that was what he knew how to do. There was no point in going back.

Xiao faltered. No. He made a resolve to keep moving. But what if [Name] were to get hurt? Xiao did his job for the greater good of humanity, and if he couldn’t protect [Name], a human, then what could he do? He trusted [Name], of course, but… 

He should follow them.

No! He shouldn’t. He chased [Name] off with his sour words and mean disposition. [Name] probably disliked him. He shouldn’t care if they hated him or not. He was simply making excuses to not go, but there was no excuse to not go! What was stopping him? His pride?

He started walking in [Name]’s direction before he stopped himself. He will move forward. [Name] will be okay. But his feet betrayed him by moving otherwise. It was a mental battle. Xiao’s train of thought must have spun, twisted, and switched at least over 32 times. He stopped all movement eventually and stood still.

He was standing like an idiot for a very, very long time in the middle of nowhere, his hand gripping his pole arm and his face contorted. 

Damn it, Xiao thought finally, I guess I’ll be a good person.

Xiao ran after [Name].

 

---

“Who is HoesMad?” asked Tartaglia. “Can they fight?”

Zhongli sighed. Getting a drink with Tartaglia was getting nowhere. Zhongli set down his glass and resisted the urge to groan into his hands. Maybe Baizhu had a cure for insanity. “You fight her every week, Childe.”

“You mean ArsonEnthusiast?”

“Arson?” Zhongli repeated. “Isn’t that—That’s illegal.”

“Well,” Tartaglia said, giving Zhongli a smile that could mean nothing but trouble, “the traveler tends to bend the rules in every nation she traverses into. What’s the difference between bending and breaking?”

“There is a big difference between bending and breaking the law.”

Tartaglia made a face of utter disgust. “As expected of the God of Co—”

“Shh.” Zhongli tapped the rim of his glass. He cleared his throat and raised the volume of his voice slightly. “I am mortal just like you. I intend to live out my years in peace, just like a mortal. Because I am mortal, I have a short lifespan and will gladly do mortal things.” The people around Zhongli and Tartaglia shot them odd looks before returning to their business.

“Real inconspicuous, Mr. Zhongli, sir. It’s hard to live out your years in peace when your god is dead and you have to work tirelessly to make ends meet. It’s not so uncommon to live unhappily and unsatisfied, you know.”

“There’s [Name].”

“The guild master? A special case,” Tartaglia said wryly. “Born from a high-end family, inherited a nice and cushy life, and always doing what they want. A better example for a stereotypical mortal would be their assistant—Secretary Lu.”

“Hmm… as for Chongyun and Xingqiu and Director Hu?”

“They’re children, Zhongli. Same for Miss Xiangling of the Wanmin Restaurant.” Tartaglia recognized the look in Zhongli’s eye. “If you bring up me, I’d like to point out that I enjoy what I do, though there are some aspects that don’t exactly align with my interests. Overall, I’m quite honored to have a job like mine. But, to others, living life doing what you enjoy is a privilege that not many get to indulge in.”

Zhongli said, “I don’t suppose you’re in any position to give me advice on mortal lifestyle.”

Tartaglia threw his arms wide open. “And why not? I’m the mortal-est of mortals.”

“I’ve lived as a mortal before,” Zhongli felt compelled to point out. “You can read about it. Though they’re considered historical fantasy, the four volumes of Rex Incognito should satiate your curiosity. And I think I’m doing a very good job of being a mortal now. Even gods and monsters get tired after living forever and a day.”

“Sure, sure. You don’t live forever anymore, do you?”

“No,” said Zhongli. “Just a very long time.”

“Then I hope you don’t forget me,” said Tartaglia as he lifted his glass to his lips, “or the young guild master, during your very long life.”

Zhongli’s throat bobbed. “I remember everything.”

“Rex Lapis remembers everything. Can we say the same about the mortal Zhongli?”

The consultant didn’t want to talk about this anymore, which was weird because he liked talking. He liked talking about history and memories and things that people often found trivial and above or below them. Zhongli didn’t want to care, but he knew that one day he had to come to the conclusion that he indeed cared very, very much.

Everything he did was, admittedly, either for himself or for Liyue, and often, his own self took precedence over Liyue. He retired for himself, he took up a job he enjoyed for himself, and he put Liyue, a nation he loved, at risk for his own comfort. Truthfully, and as much as he hated to admit it, but Guizhong was right—he was more adept in the art of the sword rather than the art of the pen. 

Though, if Guizhong were still here, he’d protest that he’d gotten better at the art of the pen. He’d gotten better because he appreciated the culture of Liyue throughout the years, because he was fond of mortals and their peculiar habits, and because he was friends with the strange and wonderful [Name], an artist with no Vision.

“Woah,” said Tartaglia, “it seems I’ve put Mr. Zhongli in deep thought.”

“You’ve done nothing of the sort,” corrected the proud Zhongli. “I was thinking about something else. In any case, a rascal like yourself can do nothing but cause trouble.”

Tartaglia’s crooked smile resurfaced. “Isn’t that my job?”

 

---

“Oh my god…” murmured XIAO as he surveyed [Name] from a high hill. 

[Name] was nearing Liyue Harbor now, but they still had a long way to go until they reached the front gates of the city. He saw them stop for a boar. [Name] was trying to coax the boar into eating an apple. The boar ran them over and disappeared. Xiao winced.

However, [Name], like a child, bounced back up as if nothing happened. They continued on their merry way. Xiao followed in suit. 

He promised himself that he’d only watch them up to the border of the city, like he had done with the traveler. It’d be upsetting if someone like [Name] were to get hurt along the way. Yes, he considered, that was why he was doing this. He couldn’t forgive himself if they got hurt. Xiao didn’t deserve anything, but Zhongli, the man who saved Xiao, deserved everything.

Maybe Zhongli liked the boring life. The traveler told Xiao that all he did nowadays was about birds, antiques, flowers, and the small things. Were the small things worth it? Was there more to the small things than Xiao had imagined? Was the “boring” mortal life something worth pursuing? Was it worth relinquishing power and responsibility?

Xiao thought about it more. He wouldn’t mind “boring” either. After all, there were not-so boring people like [Name]. [Name] lived a boring, mortal life, and they were one of the small things that Zhongli must have treasured. From his position on the hill, [Name] looked like a small ant, but… 

No. It wasn’t Xiao’s place to interfere in Zhongli’s peaceful business after last time. Xiao had to come to terms with the fact that Rex Lapis was no more. He was grateful for the man, and he’d gladly carry his karmic debt to live dutifully, even when Zhongli had retired. Xiao was happy Zhongli found hobbies, as useless as they seemed, and people, as strange as they were.

Then the Adeptus watched the guild manager walk straight into a hilichurl camp.

Why would they do that? Xiao’s thoughts ran rampant. Maybe they were concussed after being run over by a boar! That’s the only reasonable conclusion! No person in their right mind would voluntarily seek trouble! 

So much for interfering with Zhongli’s business.

The hilichurl camp was fairly small, thankfully, but hilichurls nonetheless. 

The only campers, which were five hilichurls, were aggravated by [Name]’s presence. [Name] waved their hands around, trying to signal that they came in peace or something of the like, but the hilichurls only seemed to get angrier. One of the hilichurls was a large hilichurl with an axe, upset that he’d been woken from a deep sleep.

Xiao couldn’t stop and think. That was what cowards did. He leapt over the hill and into the camp. Xiao hefted his pole arm. If he aimed correctly and used his Vision, he could get rid of two of them easily. 

Xiao appeared in front of [Name]. “Behind me.”

But before Xiao could even swing his pole arm, he heard [Name]’s weapon before he saw it. 

Bang! Bang!

The hilichurl in front of him fell into a sad heap on the ground. [Name] had a hand hovering over Xiao’s shoulder with a hot, steaming pistol. Xiao backed away and turned to look at [Name]. He raised a tentative hand over his ears. He nearly went deaf from the loud sound. [Name], though, seemed used to it.

Bullet cases flew. [Name] whirled to the remaining hilichurls, brandishing their pair of pistols. Bang! [Name] aimed for the head of a hilichurl. Its mask cracked. Bang! The bullet went through the aforementioned chest of the hilichurl. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Two more hilichurls followed in suit without a second to waste. 

As for the final large hilichurl, [Name] aimed for its knees. Bang! Bang! The hilichurl kneeled. [Name] jammed more bullets into the chamber. Bang! Bang! The hilichurl’s shoulders went slack, and it finally collapsed face-first.

Xiao had seen Fatui men with rifles that killed from a distance. But those were rifles, as in long weapons that were clunky and awkward. [Name] carried their short pistols as if it were second nature, muscle memory, as if it were a part of them. The pistols were small enough to be carried on their person, too, which was convenient.

He would have never guessed that they would just pull out two glocks and start shooting. But [Name] did have an affinity for the strange and stranger.

“Behind who?” [Name] wryly asked. Xiao blushed. [Name] waved their pistols. “Snezhnayan metalwork. The Fatui tend to have very advanced technology. My brother tinkered with it and managed to create a usable weapon for me.”

Xiao tucked away his pole arm. “You’re violent.”

“All artists are violent,” [Name] said, and Xiao, for a moment, believed them. When he went into their room, he’d seen covered canvases. “I’m joking. Maybe it’s just me who’s violent.” They crouched over a definitely dead hilichurl and prodded it with their pistol. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Xiao said nothing.

“Do you have nothing good to say about me?” [Name] straightened up. They looked at him over his shoulder, and he felt relief. Relief out of all things. Relief that [Name] was strong and safe and lovely and stunning—Xiao cut himself off before he got too ahead of himself. Bubbles rose in his stomach. “It’s okay. I think I’d rather be violent than afraid.”

“I agree,” Xiao said.

[Name] smirked. Xiao made a face. They asked, “Could you repeat that?”

“I said you were weird.”

“That is completely unbelievable,” said [Name]. They had yet to tuck away their pistols. Maybe Xiao shouldn’t provoke the person holding two weapons when he only had one. [Name] looked at the sun in the sky. “But I’ll take it for now.”

Xiao said, “You get into trouble all the time—for the short time I’ve known you. I’ll see you back to Liyue before you cause another one-sided massacre.”

[Name] looked fake-affronted before they melted into happy resignation. Xiao then noticed a small sparkle of gold paint near their eyes, then he noticed the way that Liyue’s setting sun was unusually beautiful today; he noticed more, but he wasn’t comfortable enough to acknowledge it.

“Looks like I’ll be safe tonight,” said [Name] casually as they started ahead. Xiao followed, taking smaller footsteps and watching their back. He wondered if he’d always be watching their back, and then he wondered if he could summon up the courage to walk side-by-side with them. “It looks like I’ve really got to head home before Secretary Lu calls the Millelith on me or something.”

Xiao nearly snorted, and he had no idea who this Secretary Lu was. “Has he done that before?”

[Name] wilted. “Yes… in fact, it was how Zhongli and I met. He had missing person posters plastered all over Liyue. It was humiliating. I wore a beautiful hat to disguise my face that day, luckily. Then again, it isn’t so bad to have everyone appreciate my face…”

“The people of Liyue might have mistaken you for a bounty.”

“You’re not funny,” said [Name], but they were laughing. 

He swore they were.

Notes:

i was not expecting sayid to be an important chr in windblume.. sorry i made u into a dickwad!

also- as far as the game goes.. mihoyo is not very explicit about zhongli post-gnosis (which is why i wrote this fanfiction i mean i wanted him to have fun as a "mortal" lol),, 

i'm writing this fanfiction under the pretense that he is now just an adeptus, not a real mortal... which means he will have an extended lifetime (similar to xiao and ganyu) compared to mc and the gang! just wanted to clear that up before i continue this fic aha

ps: i havent been very clear ab it yet but lumine/traveler is like an actual "player" which is why her name changed like 50 times in the chapter LMFAOO