Chapter Text
Part 2
After announcing the change in his and the Tsaritsa’s plans, Zhongli quickly brought the meeting to a close while pushing out discussion of any specifics to “another time.” In one sense, it was to allow Childe time to process everything he had found out, but the main purpose was more selfish — next time would not include Signora, so it would instead be a wonderful opportunity to spend time with just the two of them.
Of course, he and Childe had already been meeting quite often, but sharing a secret scheme would surely create a closer and more private atmosphere.
With the last vestiges of his reason, Zhongli felt slightly embarrassed with himself.
Over the centuries, he’d seen many adepti fall prey to this affliction, with varying degrees of consequence. Morax had always thought they were quite ridiculous. Comrades who had been stalwart and reliable one day would go down to a village and come back completely brainless, sighing repeatedly at nothing, haring off to perform some foolish feat, making a spectacle of themselves in one way or another…
Morax had thought they were quite ridiculous. But now, he understood. It really was a disease.
It was humiliating and he couldn’t stop.
How could the Morax of back then imagine that he’d spend half a day thinking about the precise color of a human’s eyes and how it fitted so well to his Hydro Vision. Or that it would lead to thinking about how the strongest Hydro element in Liyue was at Yaoguang Shoal, and how nice it would be to go there with Childe. Would he like it? Would he want to stroll along the cliff, observing from a distance, or run across the sandbars and into the gentle waves? Picking a fight with the broken Ruin Hunters no doubt...
How did Liyue’s warm Sea of Clouds compare to Snezhnaya’s cold waters? Was Childe from a region close to the shore, or from further inland? Did he miss it? What did he think of his home? What did he think of Liyue?
He listened so politely whenever Zhongli spoke, at length — at great length — about Liyue’s many outstanding features and historical marvels, but he had also never revealed anything of his own thoughts.
Given what he’d believed to be his mission, had he tried to avoid getting attached? Had he been thinking of the possible damage he might do to the city in his attempts to draw out and battle Rex Lapis?
If so, at least he wouldn’t need to worry about that any longer. Zhongli would certainly assure him that no harm would befall Liyue while he was still its Archon. Should the adepti and the Qixing fail, Rex Lapis would appear to step in, as always before...
Though, he had every expectation of their success.
They better succeed. Or else he would compress a century’s worth of military preparation into a decade and make sure they became ready within the next ten years. ...Perhaps that was too generous. Surely five years would be enough?
Come to think of it, Childe would have experience with training troops. If it came to that, perhaps another contract with the Tsaritsa...
It took Hu Tao calling his name six times to bring Zhongli out of his ridiculous, harebrained scheming thoughts. Her expression, when he finally noticed her, clearly said he wouldn’t live it down for a long time, even as she proceeded to needle him about ‘feeling his age’ and ‘going senile’ before finally swaning off without even explaining what she’d wanted in the first place.
This was, unfortunately, already the third time that week.
He was getting worse.
...But what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to not think about the way Childe’s habitual smile softened into something more genuine and infinitely gentler when little Changchang bumped into him and he helped right the girl, even taking the time to chat with her and play a game together?
His nature was of a shimmering darkness, unfathomable and dizzying, but sometimes it was also a quiet and gentle sea, lapping at the shore...
Hu Tao, who had returned to complete whatever errand she had originally come for, was snickering in the doorway to his office. There was no telling how long she’d been standing there.
He was definitely getting worse.
~.~
After that whole fiasco of revelations, Childe gave himself three days to sulk, adjust to everything he’d learned, and start preparing for his real mission. It was just long enough that Signora had no choice but to get lost, lest the Qixing discover her presence and raise a fuss, but not so long as to risk offending... Morax with his silence and prevarication.
....When he was told this mission would require diplomatic skills, for the reason to end up being “making sure you don’t piss off a foreign Archon” was not what he’d expected.
However, being aware of the situation didn’t stop him from swaggering into the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor as if nothing had happened at all.
Director Hu started sniggering immediately, but Childe forced himself to ignore her. Assuming she was in on everything was pure paranoia. She’d started laughing at the sight of him at least half the times he’d come by before too, and some of those were because of things like “you look particularly orange today, carrot boy.”
“Hey, Mister Zhongli!” Childe called out with very realistic cheer as he leaned one hip against the man’s exceptionally old and ornate desk. “Would you be available for lunch? The Northland Bank is in need of your expertise once more.”
Hu Tao definitely muttered, ‘Riiiiight, the bank, sure,’ under her breath.
For his part, Morax carefully finished the line he had been writing before setting his brush aside and looking at Childe with the same mild expression as always. “It would be my pleasure, Master Childe,” he said.
“Excellent!” Childe exclaimed, beaming. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering food from Xinyue Kiosk to be delivered to the bank. Shall we go?”
“If you’re keeping him more than an hour, I’ll be charging you!” Hu Tao called out after them.
Childe waved over his shoulder in acknowledgement.
“I hope you have been well these past few days,” Morax said with a perfectly pleasant tone that carried no discernable implications. “I confess I have missed our meetings. Will you be amenable to continue them?”
‘Does he want me to check in regularly?’ Childe wondered.
“Of course! I always have time in my calendar for you, Mister Zhongli!” he agreed brightly.
Morax smiled — and began to talk about food.
The conversation was rather meaningless, to that point that even Childe’s overactive and oversensitive imagination couldn’t put any deeper meaning to it — starting from a mild comment about his choice to order from the Kiosk instead of Luili Pavilion, and carrying into a lecture about the distinctions of Yue cuisine as a whole.
His voice was pleasant, as it had always been, low and smooth, and he gave every indication of enjoying simply rhapsodizing about every single minute detail under the sun. No matter how Childe listened, it didn’t sound like a god’s divine will being gifted onto mortals, but just like someone who knew a lot of useless things and loved to share them, like Anton and his endless rumors or Teucer and his beloved Mister Cyclops. There was no way all of the things he’d told Childe over the time he’d spent in Liyue had all carried some deeper hints...
Childe nodded along with polite interest and mentally reminded himself — this was an archon, and his way of thinking was clearly incomprehensible.
It would be good not to assume too much.
The food was already waiting for them in one of the Northland Bank’s inner meeting rooms. Although he could have just as easily booked a private room at Xinyue Kiosk, Childe felt this was the best way to ensure that the contents of their conversation could not accidentally reach someone they should not. In Liyue, even the walls had ears, after all. And this... this was something secret above all else.
“Your skills with chopsticks have improved,” Morax commented as they began to eat. “It’s good to see.”
...Yeah. That... had nothing to do with his mission. Childe smiled because there was nothing else to do.
“Haha, there’s no weapon I can’t master! You just wait and see the fruits of my efforts, Mister Zhongli!” he responded lightly — and promptly fumbled a shrimp ball. “Actually, the reason I asked you here today is in regard to my work... specifically that work.”
There was no outward reaction, except Morax reaching over to place a new shrimp ball in his bowl.
“In regard to the... trial you would like Liyue to face,” Childe said slowly, “is there anything specific you have in mind?”
“No,” Morax said simply, without any fluctuation in his tone. “The details are for you to decide and carry out. It only needs to be sufficient to warrant Rex Lapis’s direct intervention.”
This was extremely unhelpful, because Childe had no idea what Rex Lapis normally did in Liyue, aside from making some business predictions once a year. Was he supposed to tank their economy somehow? But for that, why would he, the Vanguard, be sent? Based on Morax’s words before, he was supposed to bring “chaos” to the harbor.
Well, thinking about the reason for all this, it should be something flashy and impressive. Nothing that could get lost or muddled in hearsay and word of mouth, not like some trade policy that ordinary people wouldn’t understand.
It could only be a battle, right?
“Then, a battle?” Childe suggested directly.
Chewing on a Fullmoon Egg, Morax said thoughtfully, “That would be logical.”
“Something strong enough that ordinary mortals can’t handle it, but not so strong that it would take long for you to resolve,” Childe went on, watching for any reaction but also speaking more freely. “Close enough to the city to create a sense of danger and make sure it’s seen, but not inside it, to keep the damage down and the cleanup simple.”
Unexpectedly, Morax’s eyebrows jumped and then furrowed slightly, and his chopsticks paused halfway to his bowl. “Ah,” he said, “that is a good consideration. This contract was a wise decision.” He smiled at Childe.
So either he hadn’t considered putting an upper limit on the threat, or he hadn’t considered keeping casualties low. But he saw both as “a good consideration.”
This god... was it possible he was just an airhead?
His reason for all this was almost ridiculously shallow, and yet he lacked any malice in his actions. It wasn’t as if he had no consideration for his citizens either. He appeared deeply fond of Liyue, its culture and its people, both individually and as a whole.
The original Seven were simply victors of the war. As long as he was powerful enough, that was the only qualification. Compared to the thrill of the battles back then and the adulation toward the victor, this peaceful era of nothing but trade and legal disputes had to be rather tedious — at least from Childe’s perspective. Loving the softness of a peaceful home did not preclude desiring the heady joy of battle... The two were not mutually exclusive, no matter how difficult the duality could be.
It was with some understanding that he looked at Morax again.
“I see,” Childe said. “Then I’ll prepare a list for you to look over.”
But, he thought as he chewed on the ends of his fancy chopsticks, if Morax wanted a battle... it would have been grand to be the one to give it to him.
...Wait.
Becoming a public enemy of the entire nation of Liyue would be too great a loss for the Fatui, so he couldn’t offer himself as the villain of this plan. But maybe...
“Ah, but Mister Zhongli, I just realized,” Childe said with a tone of fake innocence that would have set the teeth of both his siblings and the other Harbingers on edge, instinctively knowing nothing good could come of it, “I don’t know how strong you are. I can’t accurately judge what would make a good trial like this... What do you say we have a quick match? Just the two of us.”
Just. The. Two. Of. Us.
Zhongli smiled blandly — his brain had vacated his head.
“...Just the two of us,” he repeated, since nothing else seemed to have registered.
“Great! Mister Zhongli, it’s a date! Don’t try to back out on me now!” Childe exclaimed, jumping to his feet in excitement. His calm calculation and all thoughts of diplomatic approach toward an Archon were completely gone.
With the same unwavering smile, Zhongli parroted, “It’s a date.”
He didn’t notice that he had just bent one of his rings out of shape from clenching his hand too hard. At least he had managed to avoid breaking his chopsticks, keeping his dignity intact.
....For now.
~.~