Chapter Text
Morespok was a quaint village. If the scent of seafood didn't linger in the frost bitten air, perhaps he’d have more compliments for it.
There were few people living in Morespok. About 500, if Zhongli was being generous. There wasn’t a hotel, but a fisherman he met in the capitol offered to house him for a small sum of mora. Zhong wished to offer him more, but was turned down. The fisherman hoped that Zhongli’s research could clear up Morespok’s notoriety, said that it would be reward enough.
Touched by the man’s sincerity, Zhongli sought to do right by him.
He learnt of Morespok’s ecology. How the Red Fox’s hatred poisoned the land, animals were more vicious, they lurked in the forests, waiting for victims. Even the flora seemed to wish ills on the living, poisonous flowers and carnivorous plants bloom exclusively within the region.
“If the forest scares ya, you’ll hate to see what the tides drag in.” Zhongli’s companion goads, “The fishes here are beasts. Even in the shallower waters you’ll find tentacled beasts just waiting to make a meal out of ya.” Zhongli shudders and contemplates if his research is worth running into giant octopi. Not much is.
He decides he will avoid the open waters of Morespok.
To assuage Guizhong’s worry, the first thing he did in Morespok was to inquire about the safety. The fisherman told him to avoid leaving the village at night, ever. It wasn't as though the outskirts were any less dangerous, but during the day there is a higher chance of rescue, should one get eaten.
(“Li, what the fuck.”
“Hush, dear friend.”)
Despite the dangers, Zhongli had a smooth sailing start to his research in Morespok. The fisherman had offered him a guest room, it belonged to his down who had passed many years ago. It was small, but had a desk, that was all Zhongli really needed. Him and the fisherman’s family got along well. While many of the ingredients were unfamiliar, Zhongli did his best to help in the kitchen as way of thanks.
The Red Fox’s influence over Morespok was easily seen, but not so easily comprehended.
Red Fox motifs were littered around the village, from being carved into doorframes to dolls and warding charms. Everyone paid their respects to the Fox, revered by all. Contrarily, few people held common beliefs of the Red Fox.
Zhongli spoke to a young woman, who said the Red Fox was merciless to those who mistreated family. Later, an older woman pulled him aside. “The Red Fox is a protector not a killer. He is loathe to break apart families and will only hunt down villains.”
Morespok did not have a temple, nor sacred libraries. Beliefs of the fox were passed down through oral tradition, ever shifting to the tellers’ biases. Yet, somehow, the whole village managed to move in perfect order. For it was not the tales of their patron deity that bonded them, but the undercurrent of fear that followed their stories.
Keep your down, and obey his will, whatever you believe his will to be.
It was by this method of chaotic deference that an order was formed.
It was by this order of fear, too, that Zhongli found himself at the edge of a knife.
No matter what you felt the Red Fox stood for, it was at the end of they day, a deity.
For Zhongli to carelessly, naively, inquire about the mortal Tartaglia’s ascension into the Red Fox, was to draw the ire of the people who worshipped him as such.
To compare the whimsical divine to that of a human, was sacrilege of the highest order.
“While many of Old Snezhnaya’s harbingers claimed to be more than, Tartaglia was definitively a mortal who fought against divinity. Why then would you choose to herald him as a god, when it is likely to be against his wishes?”
Zhongli decided to distance himself from the village. His prodding investigation was beginning to come off as invasive, thus he pulled back.
The fisherman who had so warmly welcomed him into his home, now eyed him with glazed eyes.
Zhongli thought better than to decipher that look.
He spent his time isolated, arranging and penning down his collected notes. He tried to make peace with the household he was staying in but to no avail.
Resigned, he pulls back.
A little known fact about Zhongli was that he was possibly the most extroverted introvert to exist.
He thrived off of interaction, finding purpose in debate and conversation. Though, his social battery did not agree with his habits and he often resorted to alone time in gardens or libraries.
As much as Zhongli enjoyed his solace, too much of it would kill him, and he was about to die.
As Morespok began to pull back from Zhongli, a gnawing feeling wormed itself into his brain. It manifested when the fisherman and his family refused to look him in the eye, and the villagers shuffled their feet as he approached.
Typically, he had trouble discerning people’s emotions, but Morespok made it clear he was unwanted.
When he went out for more interviews, the people would give clipped answers. They made clear their views on their deities. They did not allow Zhongli to to prod or argue or discuss.
At his core, he felt like he was withering.
Zhongli did, at this point, feel like taking a break. A trip to the nearest city to video call Guizhong sounded nice. Perhaps he’d find a bakery where he could sit and catch his breath.
it would be so easy, to up and leave, but Zhongli was nothing if not meticulous.
He mapped out what could happen after his break: would the village let him return? or would they take the chance to see him gone forever? Could Zhongli live with an unfinished project? Was the ostracisation worth his research?
He chose to stay.
From then on he he spent most of his time in the forests.
The Red Fox’s direct influence was clearly observed in nature. The flora and fauna of the local forests were much more vicious than what would be normal.
Where animals were normally fuelled by survival instinct, it seemed at though these ones were led by hatred. Even with their prey between their teeth, they would tear and tear until there was nothing left but mangled gore.
They villagers had called it an illness. “Tartaglia’s madness infecting the land.” Quote.
It was similar to the demonic energy left by bygone gods in Liyue. A similarity Zhongli was sure to study when he returned home.
Apart from the living creatures, Zhongli found many offerings littered throughout the trees. He found many statuettes and dolls nestled between loose roots and under fallen trees. Some where crude foxes made of sticks and twine, others where carved from rock. All of them where painstakingly hand made. Small traces of blood could be seen on more than a few of them.
Zhongli wondered if it was on purpose.
For all that the villagers spoke of the dangers of the forests, it seemed they frequently came here as well, if only to leave offerings for their god.
By sheer coincidence, Zhongli met one of the villagers on their way to make an offering.
He stayed out a bit later in the forests, the crisp night air doing wonders for his soul, when a shuffling noise caught his ear.
He was cautious of potential predators and jerked to attention, only to find a small village girl trudging through the snow with a doll of sticks between her gloved hands.
Knowing full well his standing with the villagers, Zhongli kept silent. He watched the girl try to find a spot to make her offering, hoping to observe how it was done. He followed her from a distance, doing his best not to draw her eye.
… to no avail, for she had seen him and promptly ran away. Crying.
It was understandable, to be frightened when a man was watching you surreptitiously in the woods. Perhaps him stating that he meant her no harm was counter productive. Guizhong once told him it was a very ‘kidnapper’ thing to say.
He should not follow her, he reasoned. The only thing scarier than being watched by a foreign man, is to be chased by that man when you ran away.
He would apologise when he returned to Morespok. For now, his research continued.
The doll the girl dropped in her haste, was smeared with blood. Probably her own, to be washed away by the snow later. Zhongli took note of it, before pondering what to do next.
Should he leave it where he found it? Perhaps. It was what he normally did when chancing apron lost items. Unless, it was valuable, then he’d turn it over to the police.
The problem, however, was that this doll was very much a valuable item to these highly religious people. There were also, no police he could hand it over to.
His mind began to sift through the possible consequences of this encounter.
He wondered if the girl would face repercussions for this, it she would be branded a heretic and shunned.
In the end, he finds some exposed roots, and gently places the doll between them. He mutters a small apology to the Fox under his breath and hopes his prayer will be enough.
He leaves to forest just as the sun is about to set, and hopes that the fisherman will help him to find to spooked girl.
His hopes ring true when as it turns out.
Upon reaching the fisherman’s abode, it is the first thing he s questioned about. The family are frantic, pacing about and yelling. Again and again, Zhongli explains how and where he left the doll, but it does nothing to appease them.
“What did you do?!” They screech, “What have you done?!”
It wasn’t too long before He felt a sharp pain on the back of his head and promptly passed out.
———
“You passed out, or you were knocked out?” Guizhong interrupted Zhongli’s story with a narrowed gaze.
“It is to the same effect, is it not?” Zhongli asked, leading both his companions to smack their faces.
“No, Xiansheng, there is a very important distinction there.” Ajax groans out.
“Yeah, Li.” Guizhong agrees and then proceeds to pivot on her point when her says, “Because what if it’s necessary for the ritual? Some rituals need blood to be drawn, stuff like that.
She watches as Zhongli’s mouth forms a little ‘o’ and Ajax gapes as if he can’t quite comprehend the idiocy he’s witnessing.
‘You’re quite right, Gui. How could I have overlooked such a thing?” Zhongli nods, hook line and sinker, “I was bound with sailors rope and struck across the temple with the hilt of a butchers knife. I am unsure If blood was drawn. Probably not.”
It was a strange feeling, being proud of her ability to talk her stupidly smart roommate into a circle, and at the same time be horrified at what the information she pulled from him.
“You should’ve told me, Xiansheng.” Ajax drawled, a dangerous grin on his lips, “I would have gladly killed them for you.”
“And have you destroy what remained of your home? Absolutely not.” Zhongli huffed, but Ajax mood continued to darken. “There’s nothing there worth protecting anymore.”
Now there was an interesting statement.
“Care to elaborate on that?” Guizhong asked as casually as she could. While she was curious of Zhongli’s trip to death village, she was more interested in Ajax’s story. Zhongli may have been perfectly fine trusting a man turned monster, but Guiszhong had her own reservations. Ajax could suck up to Zhongli all he liked but if Guizhong truly thought he was dangerous, she knew Zhongli would listen to her reason.
Ajax smiled wide, eyes glinting “I mean, people who would hurt Xiansheng don’t deserve to live right?”
Tartaglia may have been open about his distaste for manipulative tactics, but how do you survive amongst a court of liars without becoming one yourself? Guizhong had prepared herself for all sorts of verbal manoeuvres, but Ajax straight up admitting such malice in front of the man he’s trying to impress???
“Ajax, that is not true in the slightest.” He said, smacking the ginger over the head. He curled a hand over one of the fluffy read ears that emerged from his hair and yanked him by it. “I had agreed to take you with me help with your curse, not to allow you to indulge in violent fantasies.”
“Yeah, Ajax. Listen to your Xiansheng.” Guizhong goaded. Ajax growled, but was pulled back by the ear. Guizhong would have felt vindicated if she didn’t know Zhongli was already massaging the spots he’d tugged at in apology.
———
Zhongli woke in blinking moments. The flickering of his eyelids let him know he was back under the sky. He could hear voices clamouring over each other, their echos fading in and out as he struggled to grasp onto his consciousness.
Ropes bite into his skin and he feels the sting of their burn before he realises the cold. Frost crawls up his bare thighs, threatening to peel his skin back.
There is noise and lights and he is being hauled up by the arms. Vaguely he can make up chanting, but he cannot decipher it, there is no time—
A warm liquid is poured over his head, shocking his freezing body. There’s so much of it, he cannot breathe through the veil of liquid spilling over him. It is viscous and coppery, over his eyes, over his mouth, he cannot breathe-
He can’t breathe-!
He wrenches himself from the grip of his captors, falling uselessly into the wetness below him. When he opens his eyes he sees webs of blood clinging to his lashes.
The villagers run out of blood to pour over him. A party of them split from the group and drag him into the forest.
Somehow, he does not freeze to death.
They trudge through the forest dragging their victim behind them. They walk long past dark, not even the moon’s glow reaches them, yet they walk forward at a steady pace undeterred.
Just as Zhongli eyes threatened to slip shut once more, his surroundings change. Rather than the drag of frost under his skin, he slides, slick with blood and snow, over polished stone. The howling winter winds go still and the ropes that bind him are cut off.
His captors are antsy. Their hands tremble as they leave Zhongli lying in the centre of a room. He doesn’t have the strength to turn his head, and watches them inch backwards out of the room, mumbling and whispering prayers all the way.
Zhongli does not die.
He cannot, because if he does, then Guizhong will say things like ‘I told you so.’ and put him on dishwashing duty for a month, he’ll never publish his findings on the Red Fox and… Archon’s forbid his niece plan his funeral.
Zhongli does not die because he cannot afford to.
At the moment of his resolve, as if the gods have deigned to bless his determination, a gust of hot air washes over him.
Zhongli jolts. The warmth is a more than welcome change, it only took a second for his body to unfurl, greedily soaking in the hot air.
He turns to its source, to his saviour—
He is met with an iridescent pearl, glistening with a sheen of electric blue. No, it is an eye. A singular large eye that protrudes grotesquely from the creature’s skull.
A beast stands over him. Hungry.
It’s breath and drool condenses in the winter air, sharp teeth visible from a wide set of jaws. A tongue glides over the sticky blood that clings to him.
Zhongli will be eaten, but all he can think of is the comfort of this warmth he was so generously given.
The creature’s eye is fixed on him…
… and it is beautiful.
It is on that delirious thought that he finally succumbs to exhaustion.
———
Guizhong shrieks and throws a teacup at Ajax. Because it is a dream, it bounces harmlessly off of him. It doesn’t stop her from trying again.
“You tried to eat him!” She accuses.
“Yeah but I didn’t!”
“Yeah, but you tried!”
“He was covered in pig’s blood! I thought he was food!”
“You dog!”
“Friends.” Zhongli interrupts their quarrel, “Ajax, refrained from eating me in the end. Please be gracious about this.”
At the sound of his voice, Guizhong swivels around and points an accusing finger at him. “You. You don’t have any ground to talk right now. What did I tell you when you left? That it was dangerous! That you were going to get hurt.”
“Actually,” Zhongli refuted, only because he had no sense of self preservation, “you only informed me of that a month after I had already arrived in-“
“YOU LEFT ME FOR FURRY PORN!” Guizhong yells.
Ajax, because he is probably worse then Zhongli, perks up. “Xiansheng reads porn? What type?”
“It was not porn, Ajax. It was a historical fiction piece based off of the red fox-“
“Xiansheng read porn of me!” Ajax trembles with excitement, his eyes glittering. “Was it good? How was I in the book, hm? How hot was w-“
The whole tea table lands on Ajax’s face.
Zhongli blinks at the crumpled mess of Ajax on the floor. “You did not have to do that.” He tells Guizhong mildly. He notes how her chest heaves with exhaustion. Interesting, so one can exert themselves within a dreamscape.
“I did.” Guizhong sneers, “He was being a creep.”
“Ajax saved my life, Guizhong.” Zhongli pouts. Guizhong was having none of it. This was Stockholm Syndrome, it had to be. “He tried to eat you.” She reiterated, hoping the words would find their way through his thick skull.
“Guizhong, Ajax did not hurt me while I was unconscious. When I woke up and took stock of my injuries, there were no indications that I was clawed at or bitten.” Zhongli explained.
Ajax, the bastard, took the chance to lord over Guizhong, “Yeah, Gui. In fact, I wound myself all the way around his body, so he wouldn’t freeze to death.”
This bitch-
“Do you not see what he’s doing right now?” Guizhong gestures helplessly to the fox-man, who despite having saved her friend, chose to stress all the wrong words. Even if Zhongli couldn’t read a room for shit, he had to notice Ajax’s hand sliding up his sides when he spoke about Zhongli’s body. Eugh. “Please tell me you see it.”
For once, for once, Zhongli’s brow furrows and looks like he’s about to say something sensible, and what comes out of his mouth is, “I do. He’s quite charming isn’t he?”
“…”
Silence. All that was left was pure stunned silence
“Do you wanna tell Guizhong about my Rex Lapis Statue collection?” Ajax says out of fucking nowhere. It’s a calculated move and they both know it, because Zhongli lights up and begins to ramble.
This fucking fox-!
———
Zhongli wakes up in a temple for Rex Lapis.
Yes, he has just survived the unimaginable and discovered a suffocating darling hidden in the outskirts of morespok, but— shh, Guizhong, that is not important right now. He is alive and well and he must tell her about his discovery that was much more fascinating than his own survival.
———
When Zhongli wakes up again, he is lain on a bed of old rags. An assortment of thawing fruit is strewn across the floors nearby.
The first thing he does is bring a hand to the back of his head. As expected, it feels inflamed. A dull ache blooms at his touch. He checks the rest of his body, but can only find small scrapes from when he was dragged through the forest and traces of dried animal blood.
Vaguely he remembers a huge beast towering over him, he remembers fragments of dreams of a princely young man, the phantom feeling of fur, soft as gossamer clings to his skin, but they must have been dreams. He is alone.
A stray winter breeze prods him to dress up, and he hastily pulls the rags over himself. He has to get up, he cannot stay on the floor forever.
Ambling to his feet, he tries to make sense of his surroundings. He absorbs everything, the material of the walls, the placement of old furniture, anything that he sees. Every additional sliver inches him towards survival, because if he cannot at least learn where he is, he doesn’t even have hope of returning home.
As he examines the room he’s in, he comes to a startling conclusion. This… this is a temple. He suspected as much when he tossed in as a sacrifice, but this went beyond even that.
He laid his eyes upon the sprawling quartz figure in the centre of the hall. A lean, gilded body of an eastern dragon wound around itself, casting shadows from the tall ceiling.
This was not a temple of the fox…
It was a temple of Rex Lapis.
Where there should have been soft swirling motifs where instead the unwavering geometric lines that were associated with Liyue’s god. The stone windows had been carved crudely into a pattern of repeating diamonds.
Zhongli runs a hand over a ragged stone edge. Whomever built this place was no professional architect, but they sure did have a lot of passion.
… and a lot of devotion to Rex Lapis.
Zhongli thought back, he dug up any mention of Snezhnayan’s worshipping Rex Lapis to this extent. He found nothing.
The Tsaritsa fostered nothing but the cold love toward herself and the nation. Why then? Why was there a Temple of Rex Lapis in Snezhnaya? Why did Red Fox fanatics toss him in here?
He took note of all his budding questions and tucked them safely into the back of his mind. He was more than familiar with Rex Lapis, he could collect clues.
Vigour renewed, he scoops up some of the fruit and ambles further into the temple taking care, despite his injuries, to step over the raised doorways.
He notes down the many motifs until he finds it, a towering statue of rex lapis in the courtyard.
It was difficult to recognise at first, what with the statue being ice-coloured rather than the typical golden (And maybe, the head trauma was messing with his cognitive processes), and so Zhongli, as any good researcher would, trudged out into the snow laden courtyard to inspect it further.
What he found was this: That monstrous red fox resting by the foot of statue, and evidence that Tartaglia, her majesty’s most loyal soldier, worshipped another.
———
“Yeah, I had to drag him out of the snow.” Ajax concludes Zhongli’s recount for him, “That’s how we met. That’s the story.”
“Okay, but then what?” Guizhong asks, feeling proud when Ajax deflates a little.
“Uh, was surviving death cultists and being rescued by the Tartaglia not exciting and enough you?” He scoffs.
“I might not like it, but Zhongli is always getting involved with people who want to kill him.” She explains, irritated, “What I want to know, is why you crawled out of your mountain to come here?”
“Sorry. Can we talk about Xiansheng’s, uh, thing?” The young, dead, lord tries to deflect.
“It’s nothing, Ajax. Guizhong is just upset, that a few assassins broke her creations while I was-”
“Why are you both avoiding the question?” Guizhong observes out loud. It’s one thing for Ajax to dodge her pointed questions, she expected him to. But it’s a whole other thing for Zhongli to recognise someone clamming up, and to act accordingly.
To reiterate: Zhongli read social cues…
And then he sided with Ajax instead of Guizhong.
Her roommate sighs, “It really is pointless to try and distract you.” He smiles at her, it is nothing but fond, although, wordlessly, his hands tug Ajax’s into his own lap.
There is a mildly sick feeling she feels, for a man she’s known all her life to be so affectionate with a foreign deity hes just met.
Its absurd, and yet, she holds her tongue. Because Zhongli runs his fingers over the back of that deity’s hands, he hold’s its gaze, and she can just tell that they’re communicating. That terrifying powerful deity is so obviously putting up a front when he tucks himself into human’s embrace, and tries to act like he isnt hiding himself at all.
“Guizhong, I do not need to tell you how much I value you. I’m sure you know.” Zhongli starts, choosing each word carefully, “But the most open I can be with you on this matter, is that I hope you and Ajax will form a bond that lets him be more open with you.
At most, I will say this. He offered me a contract. In exchange for my safe exit from his home village, I would alleviate his curse.”
Ah, there he goes again. The terrible thing about Zhongli is that Guizhong would always forgive him. She hates a lot of the things he does, he’s blunt but secretive, an upstanding citizen and also a liar. He had the Morals of Rex Lapis, but also his Shrewdness.
He’s a man who know how to calculate even his actions. While he says everything Ajax needs to hear, the way he comforts the lord tells Guizhong plenty about what relationship they had.
Guizhong will always forgive Zhongli, because he finds all the right ways to give her the reassurance she needs.
Whatever, Zhongli keeps his secrets well in hand. She’s upset, but she allows their commune to end here.
———
When Guizhong wakes up from the dream, she feels much better oriented. Though bitter, she takes some comfort in knowing Zhongli is exactly where she predicts him to be. Petting and scritching their now fluffy roommate.
She also predicts the text she receives later.
———-
Li
He’s sensitive between the eye and the nose. If he does try to bite you, pinch there, it should stun him.