Chapter Text
Venti was singing yet another exaggerated tale about Barbatos in Angel’s Share. The tavern-goers were singing along, rewarding Venti with multiple glasses of wine for his performance.
During his downtime, while Six-Fingered José played his tunes, Venti sat with Kaeya and Rosaria at the bar, where Charles stood behind, enjoying a drink from his haul.
“How are the preparations for the ball going?” Venti asked between sips, glancing at Kaeya.
“Who knows,” Kaeya smirked, toying with his drink.
“You’re not part of the planning? Wasn’t this your idea?” Venti asked, surprised.
“You must think I’m a slacker, huh? Quite the opposite, actually. I offered to help, but our gracious host insisted they had plenty of help already,” Kaeya replied with a smirk.
“You two really do have a peculiar relationship,” Rosaria commented, looking as indifferent as ever. Kaeya chuckled at the remark.
“How is Jean holding up? I bet Diluc couldn’t convince her that he has enough help,” Venti asked Kaeya with curiosity.
"You’d be correct. Although Diluc did manage to persuade her that her time would be better spent ensuring Mondstadt’s safety protocols are in place for the event, it hasn’t completely stopped her. She’s been sending personal letters to every important guest, increasing patrols on the roads to secure delivery routes, and checking on the event planning herself every other day. I’m sure I’m not the only knight looking forward to the event, if only to see Jean finally taking a break," Kaeya mused.
“That doesn’t sound good. Isn’t she usually very busy already? And now you’re saying she has even more to do?” Venti gave a scandalized look.
“She was getting better. Lisa had a much easier time dragging her into their tea breaks. And Amber and I have managed to lure her to see some of Barbara’s performances. It’s really only during holidays and special events that the ‘old Jean’ reappears,” Kaeya explained.
“Easier? Why does that not reassure me?” Venti muttered. Kaeya just huffed with amusement.
“Nevermind that, I’m more surprised that you came back so quickly. I expected you to return closer to the due date,” Kaeya said with a smirk.
“What can I say, other than that I suddenly got really homesick,” Venti replied, brushing off the topic.
“Did you have a fight with someone?” Kaeya pried. Venti shot him an annoyed look.
“Fine, I’ll let it go,” Kaeya said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“By the way… do you have a suit for the party?” Kaeya wondered.
“Suit? What, do I need one?” Venti asked. Kaeya just smirked back.
It was the day of the ball. After discovering Venti’s intention to attend in his everyday attire, Diluc had dragged the god into a private room, where, with Adeline’s help, they managed to “persuade” him into more event-appropriate clothes.
“Is this really necessary? You know I’m just going to get this dirty,” Venti complained after the tenth needle pricked his skin. Adeline was trying to be careful with the last-minute fitting, but with the bard unable to stay still, even she couldn’t avoid the occasional slip-up.
Diluc ignored Venti’s complaints, focusing instead on his own reflection, ensuring his appearance was flawless.
"How did you even have these? They seem far too small for you," Venti continued, undeterred by Diluc’s silence.
“These are Master Diluc’s old clothes. We were lucky to find them in the attic; otherwise, we really would have been in trouble,” Adeline replied with a small smile. She enjoyed doting on Diluc’s and Kaeya’s guests, and Venti had become a surprisingly frequent one. Often, he drank himself into a stupor, and despite his grumbling, Diluc always felt obliged to look after him, offering him a bed for the night. It happened so frequently that Adeline had even prepared a room specifically for Venti’s use.
A knock came at the door. Diluc moved to open it, finding Elzer on the other side.
“Master Diluc, the Acting Grandmaster has arrived, along with Master Kaeya and Miss Lisa.”
“Thank you, Elzer. I’ll head over after we’re done here. Open a bottle for them while they wait—I’m nearly finished,” Diluc said, turning back to Venti.
“A bottle? I—" Venti began excitedly, but Diluc cut him off.
“You’ll get premium wine today—free. I might even set aside a few bottles for you at the end of the night as payment for your performance, if you behave. But before any of that, you’ll stay here until Adeline says you’re ready.”
Though Venti disliked being treated like a pincushion, the promise of extra wine silenced his complaints.
“Did you give your extra ticket to anyone? I can have Elzer keep an eye out for them.”
“Oh... I did give it to someone, but they said they might not be able to make it. I’m sure I’ll spot them if they arrive. They’re rather... eccentric,” Venti said with a mischievous smile.
“Someone you consider eccentric… now I’m worried,” Diluc grumbled.
“Little do you know, I consider you quite eccentric, too,” Venti jabbed lightly. Diluc shot him a flat look, and Venti merely smiled back. Diluc sighed.
“You remember the schedule? Make sure you’re sober enough not to fall off the stage.”
“Aye aye, boss!” Venti gave him a salute. Diluc returned a pointed look before exiting the room.
The party was in full swing. Venti had already performed once and was now chatting with Barbara and Diluc about a possible duet when he felt a familiar presence among the guests—someone he hadn’t expected to see. Anxious, he scanned the crowd, trying to spot the man.
“Venti?” Barbara asked, noticing his distracted behavior.
“Oh… sorry. I thought someone was calling me. Anyway, what do you say, Master Diluc?” Venti replied, turning back to the conversation.
Diluc looked at Venti with interest, then glanced in the direction Venti had been staring before returning his gaze.
“I’m fine with the idea. Just make sure you don’t encroach on the other performers’ time,” Diluc said, his expression a mix of approval and curiosity.
“Not to worry,” Venti responded with his typical smile.
“I apologize for interrupting,” a deep voice came from behind Venti. His heart skipped a beat. All three of them turned to face the newcomer.
“Wha… How are you here?” Venti stammered, his eyes meeting Zhongli’s.
“Hu Tao sends her apologies for not being able to attend. Upon learning I was free, she requested that I come to represent Wangsheng Funeral Parlor,” Zhongli explained calmly, looking directly at Venti. A lump formed in Venti’s throat.
“You know this man, Venti?” Diluc asked, mildly suspicious.
“Uh… yes. This is Mister Zhongli, a highly respected consultant in Liyue. Zhongli, this is Master Diluc, the current owner of Dawn Winery, and the host of tonight's event,” Venti said, hastily making introductions.
“And this is Barbara, deaconess of the church and Mondstadt’s beloved idol,” he added, gesturing to Barbara.
“A pleasure to meet both of you,” Zhongli offered with a courteous nod.
“Likewise, Mister Zhongli. Welcome to Mondstadt! Will you be here long, or just for the evening?” Barbara asked warmly.
“I am undecided,” Zhongli replied politely, then turned to Venti.
“May I speak with you somewhere private?” he asked, reaching for Venti’s hand.
“Oh, sure,” Venti responded, a bit awkwardly. Zhongli, ever the gentleman, wished Barbara and Diluc a good evening before guiding Venti away from the main crowd. Venti caught Diluc’s suspicious gaze following them as they slipped out of sight.
The winery grounds were decorated lavishly with flowers, lights, and crystals hanging from every tree, vine, and fence. Benches and tables had been placed around the grounds, creating intimate nooks for guests to relax away from the main stage.
Zhongli led Venti to one of these benches. Once seated, he looked around briefly before his eyes settled on Venti with a worried expression.
“Is everything all right?” Zhongli asked, getting straight to the point.
“Why do you ask?” Venti attempted to deflect, avoiding Zhongli’s gaze.
Zhongli was silent for a moment, then gently took hold of Venti’s chin, forcing him to look up.
“You left Liyue with only a brief letter. You left an invitation with Hu Tao, but she mentioned you acted strangely when you gave it to her. And now, you’re avoiding my eyes,” Zhongli said softly. “I’ve known you for so long—I’d like to think I can read you at least a little,” he added with a hint of a smile.
The concern in Zhongli’s gaze almost compelled Venti to brush off his feelings as usual, offering some lighthearted excuse. But the recent months had been filled with hurt feelings, a sense of inadequacy, and lingering doubts about his own worthiness in their relationship. His hands trembled as he made up his mind.
“I… I can’t do this anymore,” Venti whispered, his voice wavering.
Zhongli looked at him, taken aback. “Do what?”
Venti with trembling hands met Zhongli’s gaze with resolve.
“I’m ending our relationship, Morax,” he said, fighting back tears. Zhongli’s eyes widened in surprise, and they both fell silent.
After a long pause, Venti lowered his gaze to his lap, fearful of how Zhongli might respond.
“I… see. Would our conversation before the trip have anything to do with this?” Zhongli asked, though he was interrupted as Venti raised a hand.
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t play a part, but…” Venti’s voice trailed off as he looked away. He wanted to express the pain of feeling unlovable, of feeling like he was tainting their relationship with his jealousy and insecurity. But instead, he did what he did best—he put on a mask and altered the truth.
“There are other, more pressing reasons,” he said, feigning a nonchalant tone. “The main one being myself. You and Xiao have both made efforts to change. You’re stepping down from being an archon, embracing change, and living more freely. Xiao is learning to socialize, trying new things, and taking better care of himself. I… I don’t know where I fit in with all of that. It’s not fair to either of you to be with someone who’s so unsure of his own place. So, I’ll stay here in Mondstadt.”
Zhongli was silent for a long time, and Venti began to wonder if he’d seen through the act. Part of him even hoped Zhongli would argue, tell him his reasoning was flawed, and assure him that he was loved, no matter what.
“I understand,” Zhongli finally said. Rising to his feet, he started back toward the party, then paused momentarily.
“I wish you luck in your endeavors,” he said before disappearing into the crowd, leaving Venti sitting alone.
After a while, Venti, still grappling with the weight of what had happened, started to cough. He felt something caught in his throat, obstructing his breath. When he finally managed to spit it out, he saw it was a light blue flower petal.
Realizing what it meant, he couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. He broke down.
Hanahaki. The sickness caused by unrequited love.
He doesn’t love me.
Venti was playing his harp at Windrise, sitting peacefully and savoring the calm, when he sensed an entity not from Mondstadt approaching. It moved swiftly, and soon, Venti found himself staring into familiar amber eyes.
“Xiao?” Venti stood up, surprised. He’s here, in Mondstadt? He left Liyue?
Xiao simply stared at him, breathing heavily as though he was exhausted.
“Why did you end our relationship?” Xiao finally asked. Venti was taken aback—not by the question itself, but by the raw emotion in Xiao’s voice. It was clear he was feeling a mix of anger, sadness, desperation, and relief. The adeptus was struggling to stay calm and rational, yet fragments of his turmoil slipped through.
“I… Surely Zhongli told you,” Venti murmured, looking away.
“Am I to believe you would cut our ties without saying anything to me?” Xiao’s voice held a tinge of anger. Venti flinched.
Venti acknowledged his cowardice. Xiao deserved to hear the truth directly, not through Zhongli. But he had chosen to avoid the confrontation, convincing himself that distancing himself would benefit both Xiao and Zhongli. And he hadn’t been sure when he might see Xiao again, given how he’d been avoiding him.
“I’m sorry. You deserved better than that,” Venti tried to calm the yaksha.
“Why? Did we do something wrong? Do you not love us anymore?” Xiao pressed.
“It’s… complicated. I’m unsure… about my own place,” Venti tried to explain, but his emotions began to overwhelm him.
“We can help you. Can’t you work through this while—” Xiao started, but Venti stopped him.
“Please, Xiao. Go back home. Zhongli will worry when he can’t find you. I’ll be fine.” Venti swallowed down petals, tears, and emotions, trying to maintain a brave front. He turned away, but Xiao suddenly lunged forward, his hand encircling Venti’s wrist. Venti was about to tug his arm free when he caught the look of horror on Xiao’s face. Xiao’s hand trembled as he clung to Venti’s, his grip fragile yet desperate.
He wasn’t wearing the bracelet.
“Xiao?” Venti asked softly.
Xiao looked down at his hand, seemingly surprised by his own action. But he didn’t let go and lifted his gaze back to Venti’s.
“C-can you… play me a song?” Xiao whispered.
Venti hadn’t expected the request. After a moment’s pause, he gave a small, melancholic nod.
He sat down at the tree’s roots, and Xiao curled around him, embracing him tightly. Xiao pressed his head against Venti’s neck and gradually began to relax.
Venti was awash with conflicting emotions. The embrace brought back memories of happier times, and he cherished the feeling of being held. Yet beneath this warmth, he knew the closeness was only temporary. Xiao would soon return to Liyue, to Morax. Venti understood Xiao’s profound loyalty to his savior, and the bond they shared was deep and irreplaceable.
Pulling out his beloved lyre, Venti began to play an old Mondstadtian lullaby. His fingers danced over the strings, rendering the tune with a haunting beauty. The music’s enchantment was so powerful that even the vigilant yaksha, who never let down his guard, succumbed to a deep and peaceful slumber.
Yet Venti continued to play, indulging his own selfish desire for just a little longer. He wished he could freeze this moment, remain in it forever.
But when the song ended, reality returned. He carefully untangled himself from Xiao’s embrace, trying not to wake him. Bending down, he placed a soft kiss on Xiao’s forehead, blessing his dreams, before slipping away into the wind.
Venti was back at Angel’s Share, chatting with Kaeya and a disgruntled Diluc when the door opened, and Lumine entered with Paimon in tow. She joined them at the counter with a friendly smile.
“Here again, I see,” she greeted the trio.
“And here you are, fresh from your adventures,” Kaeya replied. “It hasn’t been long since the Dawn Winery ball, so I assume the Adventurers’ Guild has you busy again with another strange and wonderful commission.” He scooted closer to Venti to make room for her. She sat just as Diluc set glasses of wolfhook berry juice in front of her and Paimon.
“We’re actually looking for someone,” Paimon chirped, sipping her drink. “We thought maybe Venti could help us.”
“Always business with you guys. Well, either way, it’s always a pleasure to have you visit regardless. Even Diluc seems a touch less grouchy when you’re here,” Kaeya remarked, casting a smirk at Diluc. Diluc shot him an annoyed glance but kept polishing the bar in silence.
“Venti, have you seen Xiao recently?” Lumine asked, a trace of worry in her tone.
Venti coughed slightly before replying. “Why do you ask?”
“Zhongli mentioned he’s been missing. He said Xiao left for Mondstadt but hasn’t been seen since.” Concern lined Lumine’s face.
“I… I’m sorry. I don’t know where he is. I saw him two weeks ago, yet not since. I assumed he returned to Liuye,” Venti replied, fighting the urge to cough.
“Did something happen? With you three?” Lumine asked, her gaze softening with compassion. “We invited Zhongli to come with us to search for Xiao, but he declined, saying he didn’t want to disturb either of you.”
Venti struggled to form a response, but his words faltered.
“Why would he refuse, even when Xiao is missing? No, especially then,” Lumine pressed, her voice growing louder with frustration.
That’s when Venti felt the flowers clawing up his throat. He grabbed the closest drink—Kaeya’s glass—and gulped it down, ignoring Kaeya’s indignant shout. The burning Snezhnayan firewater stung his throat but did nothing to stop the flowers. He doubled over, clutching his mouth as if to keep the petals inside.
Staggering to his feet, he intended to escape, but nausea overtook him, and he collapsed to his knees. The voices around him blurred. All he registered was the soft weight of a hand on his shoulder, comforting him, and a bucket placed before him. Unable to hold back any longer, he coughed violently, expelling a pale glaze lily into the bucket. Another hacking fit brought forth a qingxin blossom, along with traces of blood. He felt himself slumping forward, exhausted.
Hands held him upright. He could vaguely see Lumine in front of him, cupping his face, her eyes full of concern. She seemed to be asking him something, but her words felt distant, lost in the fog clouding his mind. His last sensation was of strong arms catching him as darkness swallowed him whole.
The next time Venti awoke, he was lying in an unusually soft bed, his throat raw and his chest heavy. It took immense effort to open his eyes, and when he managed it, he saw Lumine and a green-haired man standing beside the bed, speaking quietly. Paimon floated by, her expression uncharacteristically worried. Behind them, Diluc stood, looking tense and concerned.
“Venti! You’re awake!” Lumine noticed him stirring and immediately leaned in, fussing. She reached for a cup on the nightstand and offered it to him. Venti tried to sit up, but Diluc gently pressed his shoulder down, urging him to stay still.
Exhausted, he allowed Lumine to help him drink. The liquid wasn’t water, as he’d expected, but something sweet and soothing that eased the soreness in his throat.
“Who…?” he began to ask, but his voice, barely a whisper, shocked him with how weak and broken it sounded. Lumine seemed to anticipate his question.
“This is Doctor Baizhu from Liyue. I called him to check on you,” she explained.
Baizhu’s smooth, calm voice broke through. “Can you tell me how long you’ve had symptoms of Hanahaki?”
Venti didn’t respond. Given the lack of surprise on everyone's faces, he guessed they either suspected the illness or that Baizhu had already explained it. His gaze fell as a knock sounded on the door. Baizhu, closest to it, opened it to reveal Kaeya, who entered with another figure beside him.
“Zhongli?” Venti whispered, voice still a painful rasp. Zhongli entered, his expression serious and pained as he stepped to Venti’s side.
“You…” Zhongli began, reaching out but stopping short.
“My work here is done. Let’s give them a moment,” Kaeya murmured, gently wrapping an arm around Lumine’s shoulders and guiding her toward the door.
“Wait,” Lumine hesitated, glancing back at Venti and Zhongli.
Venti offered a faint nod. “Go on. I… I need to have this conversation.”
Lumine gave him a worried look but left with Paimon, Baizhu, and Kaeya. Diluc lingered briefly, casting a stern look at Zhongli before his expression softened as he glanced at Venti. With a resigned sigh, he turned and shut the door softly behind him.
As the silence settled, Zhongli looked at Venti, reaching into his pocket to pull out a slightly crushed glaze lily.
“Is it true?” Zhongli asked, his voice laced with pain.
Venti’s gaze fell to the flower. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Is… who is it?” Zhongli asked, struggling with the question as if dreading the answer.
Venti felt a storm of conflicted emotions. Part of him longed for Zhongli’s attention, but he also feared the guilt his admission would bring. “It… it doesn’t matter,” he murmured, only to flinch as Zhongli’s hand found his shoulder, his face dark with frustration.
“It matters to me,” Zhongli’s voice rose before he took a steadying breath, releasing Venti’s shoulder.
“Did you end our relationship because of them?” Zhongli asked, his voice strained. “Is it your love for them that brought you to this point?”
Venti was surprised. Zhongli hadn’t guessed it was him, despite his usual perceptiveness. “It doesn’t matter,” Venti tried to deflect, “They… they love someone else. I’d only get in the way.” But Zhongli’s gaze was searching, skeptical.
“You’re hiding something.” Zhongli reached out, taking Venti’s hand, his thumb brushing over his knuckles. The touch stirred the flowers inside Venti’s chest, and he doubled over as he coughed, feeling more blossoms pushing up his throat. Zhongli immediately sat beside him, rubbing his back and holding his hand tightly.
As the coughing subsided, Venti managed to look up, only to find Zhongli’s face inches from his own. His cheeks flushed, and he turned his head away, but before he could fully pull back, Zhongli whispered in his ear.
“I love you.”
The words took Venti completely off guard. “W-what? You… You knew?” he stammered, realizing his slip too late. Zhongli gave him a sad, knowing smile.
“I wasn’t certain,” Zhongli admitted. “I doubted it could be me. How could you be suffering from Hanahaki when you know how much I… we love you? But I had to tell you, fearing this might be my last chance.”
Reaching up, Zhongli gently cupped Venti’s cheek, his touch warm and steady. They fell into a quiet silence, each savoring the closeness of the moment.
“You do know, don’t you?” Zhongli whispered softly.
Venti’s voice was caught in his throat as he felt tears welling up. He buried his face against Zhongli’s chest, and Zhongli wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, soothing him with gentle words.
“I’m sorry,” Venti managed, his voice choking with emotion.
“Hush,” Zhongli murmured, “It’s not your fault.”
Overwhelmed, Venti let his tears flow as Zhongli held him until he eventually cried himself to sleep.
Venti awoke to a fit of coughing, something lodged painfully in his throat. A gentle hand rested on his back, steadying him as he coughed up yet another flower—this time a delicate qingxin blossom.
“It still hasn’t healed?” Lumine’s voice sounded from his right, a note of worry lacing her tone.
No one answered her.
“Lumine,” Zhongli’s calm voice broke the silence, “Did you find Xiao?”
Lumine hesitated. “You think…?”
“Yes. He’s likely the only one who can help Venti, yet he may not come if I call him,” Zhongli explained, his tone serious. “Venti can’t travel in his current state, and Xiao… he listens to you. You’ve built a bond with him.”
Lumine’s face reflected her concern. “He won’t come if you call?”
“I’ll explain later,” Zhongli deflected gently, “but for now, we need Xiao here.”
After a moment of indecision, Lumine left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
“What…?” Venti tried to ask, but a shushing finger from Zhongli stopped him.
“Don’t speak. It will only worsen the strain on your throat,” Zhongli murmured, handing him a cup of water.
As the hours dragged on, daylight slowly dimming outside, Venti’s cough worsened. Every bout of coughing drained him further, and Zhongli remained at his side, helping him sip water and the honeyed tonic that soothed his throat. Occasionally, Diluc would step in to check on them, casting uneasy glances between Zhongli and Venti but keeping his distance. Though tension lingered between Diluc and Zhongli, they restrained themselves, focusing on Venti’s condition.
At last, as twilight deepened, a commotion sounded outside the room. Zhongli moved toward the door, only to step back as it flew open. Lumine entered, dragging a disheveled and bloodstained Xiao behind her, worry etched across her face. Paimon followed yet keeping distance from the adeptus.
“His karma…” she managed, her voice trembling, before Xiao snarled and wrenched his arm from her grip.
The adeptus’s clothes were tattered, his expression wild and feral as if he didn’t recognize anyone around him. His eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Venti.
“Xiao?” Venti rasped, his voice faint but enough to catch Xiao’s attention. The fierce glint in Xiao’s eyes softened, his posture momentarily relaxing. But then, with sudden intensity, he lunged toward Venti.
Before Xiao could reach him, Zhongli stepped between them, summoning a golden shield that Xiao struck in fury, his fists pounding against the barrier like a madman.
“Zhongli… is he…?” Lumine’s voice was small, her worry evident.
Without responding, Zhongli retrieved a bracelet Venti recognized from Xiao’s wrist weeks ago. In a flash of light, Zhongli secured Xiao’s wrist and slipped the bracelet around it. Xiao’s movements stilled briefly, a flicker of clarity passing over his face. But as soon as Zhongli loosened his hold, Xiao tore the bracelet off and flung it across the room. In the next instant, Xiao summoned his spear, attacking Zhongli with ferocity. Zhongli, experienced and calm, summoned his own spear and deflected each strike with ease, countering Xiao’s attacks without harming him.
“Lumine, my lyre,” Venti whispered, eyes never leaving the fierce struggle. Lumine quickly fetched the instrument from the table and returned to Venti’s side, handing it to him.
Venti raised the lyre, his fingers moving over the strings as he played a familiar, calming melody—the same one that had soothed Xiao once before. The melody drifted through the room like a gentle breeze, its notes wrapping around Xiao and penetrating his turmoil. Gradually, Xiao’s attacks slowed, his movements becoming sluggish and unfocused.
At last, he released his grip on the spear, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. He approached Venti slowly, exhaustion overtaking him. Reaching the bed, he collapsed beside Venti, resting his head on the bard’s lap, and closed his eyes, succumbing to a deep, healing sleep.
“Is he…?” Lumine looked to Zhongli, her question trailing off.
Zhongli’s expression was weary as he spoke. “It’s difficult to say. We’ll know more once he wakes.”
A quiet settled over the room, everyone’s focus drawn to Xiao’s steady, even breathing. Lumine moved to retrieve the bracelet Xiao had tossed aside and offered it back to Zhongli, who took it with a thoughtful look before slipping it into his pocket.
“Shouldn’t he…” Paimon began, her voice tinged with surprise, but Zhongli gently interrupted, shaking his head.
“He doesn’t wish to wear it,” he replied calmly. “I won’t force him.” His gaze softened as he looked at Venti lying peacefully beside Xiao. “Besides, your music is far more effective.”
Zhongli fetched a stool and settled beside the bed, his presence steady and protective. Lumine offered to make some almond tofu before leaving with Paimon.
Venti, still holding his lyre, played a few soft notes before sleep once again claimed him.
When Venti awoke, he once again felt someone’s gaze on him. Turning his head, he saw Zhongli lying next to him on the bed, watching him intently. Zhongli’s arms were wrapped around his waist, his thumb absently rubbing gentle circles over Venti’s side.
Venti coughed softly, petals slipping from his lips before he managed to speak. “What time is it?”
“A little past midnight. You should go back to sleep,” Zhongli’s voice rumbled, a sound Venti realized he’d missed deeply.
“And you? Won’t you try to rest?” Venti asked, voice laced with concern.
“We adepti need less sleep,” Zhongli replied softly. “And even if that weren’t the case, I don’t think I could sleep tonight.” His hand gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
“How come?” Venti looked at him, puzzled.
Zhongli was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. “I need to make sure you’re still breathing,” he admitted quietly.
A pang of guilt stirred in Venti at Zhongli’s words. Noticing his reaction, Zhongli drew him closer, tightening his embrace.
“You’re all right,” Zhongli murmured. “I’m being a bit irrational. Doctor Baizhu said you’re improving, that most of the flowers have withered. You’re healing.” His voice softened on the word "most."
Venti felt a weight lift at Zhongli’s reassurances but still whispered back, “It’s not like your fears are unfounded.”
They fell silent, wrapped in each other’s warmth, and Venti felt a peace he hadn’t known for a long time.
“Where’s Xiao?” Venti asked after a while, glancing to the other side of the bed, where the yaksha had once been. Zhongli sighed deeply.
“He went outside,” he answered, sadness flickering in his expression. “I think he’s still angry with me.”
“What happened?” Venti’s voice was soft, laced with curiosity and a hint of worry.
Zhongli hesitated, his gaze somber. “When I returned from Mondstadt after the ball, I told Xiao about your decision. He was devastated. He wanted to go to Mondstadt immediately, to see you and try to make things right. When I explained that we should respect your choice, he grew angry. He accused me of giving up on us too easily, of not fighting harder—and he was right. At the time, I was too consumed by my own grief and anger to understand the true reason behind your choice.”
Zhongli’s eyes softened as he looked down at Venti. “I’m sorry, my beloved.” The endearment sent a blush across Venti’s cheeks.
“It’s not your f—” Venti began, but Zhongli silenced him with a gentle kiss.
“I love you,” Zhongli whispered against Venti’s ear, his voice trembling slightly. “I haven’t said it enough.”
Heart racing, Venti turned to face him fully, pressing his forehead to Zhongli’s chest as he wrapped his arms around him in return. “I love you too.” Emotion welled up inside him, and though tears pricked at his eyes, yet this time they were tears of happiness. Held close, Venti felt himself relax, and before long, he drifted back into a peaceful sleep.
The next morning, when Venti woke up, Zhongli was still next to him, reading a book. When he noticed Venti was awake, he put the book on the nightstand and reached for Venti’s hand.
“Good morning. How do you feel?” Zhongli looked at him with adoring eyes. This made warmth spread in Venti’s gut.
“Warm,” Venti gave him a lazy smile in return. Zhongli responded by bringing his other hand up to brush some of Venti’s loose hair out of his face.
There was a knock at the door. Zhongli rose and opened it. Lumine stood behind it with a smile.
“Good morning. Zhongli, could you lend a hand in the kitchen? I plan to prepare breakfast for everyone, but whenever I seek Paimon’s assistance, most of the food vanishes before it even reaches the plates.”
Zhongli glanced back at Venti before giving an affirmative nod.
“Of course. You’ve been a gracious host, so I am more than willing to help with anything you need while we’re lodging here,” Zhongli said, before following Lumine out of the room.
“I’ll bring your food here when it’s finished. I’ll be back soon,” Zhongli said to Venti before closing the door.
It had been a while since Venti had been completely alone. While the hanahaki had not yet fully healed, and his throat and lungs were still sore, the overwhelming feelings of loneliness, sadness, and despair were gone.
There was another knock at the door. When Venti turned to look, the door was already opening, and Xiao stepped inside, blushing deeply, while holding a bouquet of flowers. It consisted of flowers native to Mondstadt, with Cecilia being the most prominent one.
“Xiao, you…” Venti started, but was interrupted.
“I love you. I’m sorry to make you ever think differently,” Xiao said, coming closer and offering the bouquet to him.
Venti was stunned. He accepted the flowers, inspecting and petting them, and a small smile forced its way to his face.
“Thank you,” Venti said with a somber tone.
Xiao stood next to the bed, awkwardly. Venti shook his head fondly and placed the flowers on the nightstand, before reaching for Xiao, inviting him to come rest next to him.
Without saying a word, Xiao crawled next to him, wrapping his arms around Venti’s torso and hiding his face. Venti started to play with Xiao’s hair as they embraced one another. Before long, Venti could feel a wet patch forming on his shirt. Xiao was silently crying.
Venti felt his guilt return. He hadn't realized what kind of turmoil he had put both Zhongli and especially Xiao through.
“I’m sorry,” Venti whispered to Xiao. Xiao didn’t respond, but he tightened his hold on Venti.
Venti was on the verge of falling asleep when the door opened, and Zhongli entered, carrying a tray. The steaming soup bowl filled the room with its warm aroma.
Zhongli paused when he saw Xiao. He glanced away, his expression pained, but slowly approached. Once at the bedside, he seemed uncertain of what to do. The awkward silence was broken by Venti’s stomach growling loudly, causing him to blush slightly in embarrassment.
“Lumine made vegetable soup for you. Would it be alright if I fed you? I don’t feel comfortable setting the tray on the bed, in case you spill... and, well, you have…” Zhongli trailed off, his gaze briefly lingering on Xiao before setting the tray on the nearby table.
“Sure,” Venti replied, sensing the sudden tension in the air. Zhongli took the soup bowl in his hands and began feeding Venti, careful to avoid any accidental contact with the other adeptus still clinging to him.
The silence grew heavy. The longer it lasted, the more guilt settled in Venti’s chest. He wondered if Zhongli could sense it. Once Venti finished the soup, Zhongli gently placed his hand on Xiao’s shoulder. Xiao immediately shook it off. With a sigh, Zhongli shifted to speaking.
“I’m sorry, Xiao. You were right all along. I gave up too early,” Zhongli said, looking miserable. Xiao didn’t show any reaction.
Zhongli waited a moment. Eventually, he deflated. He pulled the bracelet from his pocket and set it down on the nightstand next to the flowers before picking up the tray again.
“I’ll go see if Lumine needs help,” Zhongli said pitifully. Then he exited the room.
The room was quiet for a while.
“Do you still love Zhongli?” Venti asked the adeptus.
Xiao raised his head to look at Venti, a puzzled expression on his face.
“What do you mean?” Xiao asked.
“I just… I’m worried that… I’ve caused irreversible damage to your relationship,” Venti mourned.
“This… He just…” Xiao struggled to find the right words.
“I’m sorry,” Venti said softly to Xiao.
“Please... stop… This is… I don’t want you to…” Xiao looked down, his face filled with shame for some reason.
“Xiao?” Venti whispered, gently prompting him.
“I’m sorry, for all those times I left you alone when you asked for company. I… When we met at the statue last time… when you played me that song. That was when I saw what I had done to you. But you were still kind. You listened to my selfish requests. W-when I woke up alone after that, I was sad. Devastated. Because I finally realized why you left,” Xiao’s voice faltered, filled with defeat. It broke Venti’s heart to see him like this.
Venti reached out for Xiao's face, gently cupping it before whispering, “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
Xiao took hold of Venti’s hand, wrapping both of his arms around it. “After I woke up that day, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t try to find you because I believed you didn’t want to see me. I couldn’t return to Liyue because… I feared I would never see you again. It would have meant returning with the same… sin… as Zhongli. Something I had judged him for. I would have… judged my god for nothing. So I stayed in Mondstadt, battling monsters until my karma flared up,” Xiao said mournfully.
Venti remained silent, absorbing everything Xiao had just shared.
“And that’s when Lumine found you?” Venti asked after a pause.
“… I don’t remember much. I remember a cave, some screaming voices, and then a golden light that seemed to drive away the shadows. The light grew stronger, pulling me free from my karmic shackles. I… didn’t try to resist. I was too exhausted. Until I heard your music. I recognized it immediately. And I knew I had to reach you,” Xiao murmured, his eyes distant.
Venti gave Xiao’s hands a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, offering a warm smile. It managed to bring a small smile to Xiao’s face.
“You too.”
Venti turned to look at the bracelet Zhongli had left before exiting. When he reached for it, he felt Xiao stiffen next to him. Venti gently ran his thumb over the dragon’s mane, petting it.
“What’s the story behind this?” Venti asked, glancing at Xiao. Xiao avoided looking at the bracelet, his face filled with awkwardness, as though he really didn’t want to talk about it.
“A while ago, there was a large monster that had soaked up a lot of karma from the land. I sensed it and went to kill it. It was a brutal battle, one that eventually got the attention of the rest of the adepti. They, along with Zhongli, came to help me, and we finally managed to defeat it. Yet, due to the length of time I spent fighting, my karma started to consume me. Mountain Shaper placed me into a temporary stasis while Zhongli searched for a way to help me regain control. When I was freed from the stasis, he gave me that bracelet,” Xiao explained.
Although Venti finally got the answers he had sought for weeks, it still felt hollow.
“Why did you hide all of this?” Venti asked quietly.
“I asked Zhongli not to tell you. As for why I didn’t want to tell you…” Xiao trailed off, his eyes downcast. “I was already struggling with how much Zhongli worried about me. I was terrified that if you found out, and then started looking after me too, I…”
Xiao’s hands began to tremble.
“I- I…” Xiao stuttered, unable to finish his sentence.
“Hey, it’s fine if you can’t say it. Relax,” Venti said gently, placing his hand on Xiao’s face to soothe him.
“… I’m sorry,” Xiao muttered, looking defeated. Venti gave him a sad smile. While he wished Xiao could have expressed everything he was feeling, the adeptus had a look of panic in his eyes.
“I love you,” Venti whispered. Xiao’s eyes widened in surprise. Before Venti could process what was happening, he felt Xiao’s lips press against his. It took a second for Venti’s brain to catch up, but soon he was kissing Xiao back.
When they finally separated, Venti glanced at the bracelet.
“If this is supposed to help you with your karma, why did you take it off? Why won’t you even look at it?”
Xiao’s expression turned serious, and he finally looked at the bracelet with a glare.
“Because you looked so sad when you saw it,” Xiao said with little emotion.
“Huh?” Venti asked, confused.
“When Zhongli came back and told me that you had ended the relationship, I… became angry with him. To me, he looked like he didn’t even care. I yelled at him… He looked like our relationship with you meant nothing. That’s when I remembered that you… had a weird reaction when you saw the bracelet. And just then, it became a symbol of grief and separation for me. I threw it back at him, telling him he gave up too easily, and declared that I would go after you. And you know the rest,” Xiao explained.
Venti looked down at the bracelet, then offered it to Xiao.
“No!” Xiao recoiled as if burned.
“Even if I tell you that it’s fine, that I don’t hate this piece of jewelry?” Venti pleaded.
“I won’t take it back,” Xiao growled, his voice firm.
Venti sighed and withdrew the bracelet.
“Won’t you at least talk to Zhongli? He thinks you hate him,” Venti asked softly.
“Hate?” Xiao whispered in puzzlement. Venti stayed silent, letting Xiao think.
“I… I don’t know how to approach him,” Xiao said, deflecting.
“Yes, you do. You do it all the time,” Venti remarked with a careful yet mischievous smile.
Xiao remained quiet, while Venti looked at him with pleading eyes.
There was a knock at the door.
“Xiao?” Zhongli’s voice came from behind it.
Xiao looked at the door with panic written all over his face. Then he looked back at Venti, who gave him an encouraging nod.
“I’ll be here after you’re done,” Venti said softly. Xiao continued to look at him with terror before he slowly turned toward the door. He sighed deeply and opened it.
Zhongli stood on the other side, his face tinged with sadness, but it brightened a little when the door opened.
“Can we talk?” Zhongli asked carefully. Xiao nodded slowly. He stepped out of the room, but not before giving Venti a final resigned look.
The most recent Lantern Rite had come and gone, and Liyue's adepti had once again gathered to celebrate with a grand get-together, this time including some honored guests among the revelers. The atmosphere was vibrant, alive with laughter and joy, as countless toasts were raised, each more spirited than the last. Sparks from the bonfire danced up into the night sky, casting a warm glow over the crowd and the surrounding trees.
Zhongli gently excused himself from his adepti, who were deeply engrossed in conversation, to search for his two partners amidst the festivities. However, it soon became clear that they were not near the bonfire. Moving away from the crowd, he began to hear the soft, enchanting sound of a lyre. Compelled by the melody, he followed it, feeling as if he were under a spell, until he found the two people he had been seeking, sitting a short distance from the commotion.
Venti was playing his lyre, lazily strumming a lullaby while Xiao leaned against him, half asleep. The sight set Zhongli's heart ablaze.
“Hey,” Venti greeted as soon as he spotted Zhongli approaching.
“I was looking for you both.”
“Sorry. You seemed to be having an interesting conversation with Cloud Retainer and Mooncarver. We didn’t want to interrupt. Yet it doesn’t seem you had too hard a time finding us,” Venti added with a cheeky smile.
After the recent incident, their bond had grown strong again. Zhongli was still baffled by the fact that he had not recognized the deeper feelings Venti had experienced during those fateful months. Venti’s mood, compared to the time just before the fallout, was like night and day. Perhaps he still was more of a blockhead than he wanted to admit.
“Is Xiao…” Zhongli asked carefully, but before he could finish his question, Xiao lifted his head and looked at him with a questioning expression.
“Good. I need to talk to you about something,” Zhongli said, settling down beside them. He reached into his pocket and produced three small boxes.
“Just know that you can say no,” Zhongli said, feeling shy as he handed out two boxes, one to each of them. Venti, ever curious, immediately opened his box with wide eyes.
Inside was yet another bracelet, but this time, alongside the dragon, a jade bird was entwined with it. Venti's gaze shot back to Zhongli's.
“What’s this?”
“I wished to create something that would symbolize our deep connection. Whether you choose to wear it is entirely up to you,” Zhongli explained after a moment.
“So this isn’t a proposal?” Venti asked, a playful smile gracing his lips.
“Do you want it to be?”
Instead of responding, Venti turned to look at Xiao, who had also opened his own box. Like Venti’s, the bracelet featured the same golden dragon, but it danced with a silver dove, its bright turquoise eyes shining. Xiao remained still, not yet touching the bracelet.
“As I mentioned, it’s up to you if you wish to wear it. This… is more of a selfish indulgence. Yet with these, I hope to accurately convey my adoration for both of you. That’s why I wanted to at least show them to you,” Zhongli felt compelled to explain. The look Venti gave him, however, told him he hadn’t fooled Venti in the least. Yet, he’d be damned if he let either of them compromise their wellbeing just to indulge him.
With bated breath, Zhongli observed Xiao’s reactions. When Xiao reached for the bracelet and began to inspect it, Zhongli felt a surge of nervousness. He could feel Venti’s hand seeking his, offering a reassuring squeeze.
As Xiao was stroking the bracelet, he gave a small smile before it disappeared under a serious expression.
“I’m sorry. Seems like I’ve caused you some anxiety too,” he said quietly.
Zhongli was momentarily taken aback by this, but he collected himself and offered a small smile to Xiao.
“I can’t claim that everything is as it was before. Maybe with time. For now, we’ll move on, having learned something from this ordeal.”
There was a moment of silence between the three.
“Such melancholy thoughts. Isn’t this supposed to be one of the happier festivals in Liyue? You should set a better example for the outlanders,” Venti said, slipping the bracelet onto his arm as he stood up, extending his hands to the two still sitting on the ground.
“To who? You? Isn't this your… what, at least hundredth Lantern Rite to date? You should know perfectly well that this festival serves as a commemorative occasion to honor the fallen soldiers of Liyue as much as it is a reason to celebrate,” Zhongli hummed, accepting the outstretched hand.
“Well, now that we’ve honored them, perhaps it’s time we focus on the celebration next?” Venti smirked in return.
“You're just saying that because you still need your alcohol fix, aren’t you?” Zhongli shot back, a playful glint in his eye.
“Well, is there a better time to indulge in it than at a festival?” Venti replied, raising an eyebrow.
“You're a hopeless case,” Zhongli rolled his eyes, amused.
Together, they reached down to help Xiao up, both wearing broad smiles.
“I’ll pass on the alcohol,” Xiao murmured, as he reached for their hands.