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Tonia
Brother’s letters are always a welcome surprise. Every couple of weeks, Tonia gets to hear all about his great adventures in Liyue: his daring missions, the amazing people he meets, all his favorite places. Ajax’s letters are entertaining, too, reading like a novel. She can’t wait until the day he finally comes home, and she can hear these tales in person.
His descriptions of people are the most interesting. Anthon always likes the action parts of his letters, but Ajax’s daily life is what draws Tonia in. He writes about a traveler who fights him every week, about going fishing in the Sea of Clouds, and about the other members of the Fatui. It doesn’t seem like her brother has many friends, sadly, but that makes it more important to always write back straight away, so he doesn’t feel lonely for long.
There is one man he writes about often, who he calls Mr. Zhongli. “If you visit Liyue,” he wrote, “I’ll have to introduce you to Mr. Zhongli. I’ve always wanted to see him interact with kids! He causes me trouble sometimes, but he’s become a good friend. Remember, you can’t have a friendship without some hiccups!” Tonia makes a mental note.
Ajax tells of how he and Mr. Zhongli have meals together, and tea, and how he gives Ajax gifts while Ajax pays for everything. There’s a saying in Snezhnaya: that Mora takes care of people, so you should share it with those you care for. Mr. Zhongli must be special, indeed.
Tonia tries to imagine Mr. Zhongli with her brother. After many years apart, it’s even difficult to imagine how Ajax would look now. But from his letters, she knows Mr. Zhongli is tall and handsome, with eyes like amber and perfect manners. And because he’s so perfect, her brother wants to fight him. This is why Tonia can’t understand boys. She’d read this particular letter out loud with her older sister, who explained that Mr. Zhongli is Ajax’s “special friend” and that “sometimes boys want to fight people who they actually like.” Tonia still has not wrapped her head around this knowledge. It must be an adult thing.
One night, as Tonia sneaks downstairs for a cup of water, she overhears her parents discussing it. “This is how I used to write about you to my parents. When he entered the Fatui, did you ever think this would happen? The boy who wanted to fight everything in his path has fallen in love!” In love?
“Hm, I’d hoped he would marry within Snezhnaya, but this ‘Mr. Zhongli’ does sound like a capable match for him. I asked that family down the street who has connections in Liyue, and they said he’s held in high regard there as a funeral consultant.”
Brother, in love with Mr. Zhongli? Tonia did not even know that two men could be in love like that! So that’s the kind of “special friend” Mr. Zhongli is…
Tonia sneakily grabs her cup of water and returns to her room, retrieving her nicest stationery in the dim light. She’s been writing a letter to Ajax here, and now it needs something extra…
Tonia writes:
P.S.: When you get married, please invite me to Liyue so I can be your flower girl! I support you, Brother.
Perfect.
Xiangling
Wanmin Restaurant not only has a reputation for having the most diverse menu in Liyue, but also as the #1 Date Spot in the city, rated so by multiple tourist pamphlets. Liuli Pavilion and Xinyue Kiosk are more upscale, of course, but no one offers the “local Liyue cuisine” experience quite so much as Wanmin Restaurant.
Because of their reputation, Xiangling has seen countless amusing couples pass through. Most interesting are tourists, who often can’t handle the spice of Liyue dishes. Xiangling’s favorite couple is naturally Chongyun and Xingqiu (if only they would get together already! Xiangling always acts as the wingwoman whenever they come in). Then there is Mr. Zhongli, who has been a regular for years. He always orders the black-back perch stew for its unique ingredient of violetgrass, and Xiangling is honored that someone as esteemed as Mr. Zhongli would choose here to eat.
And then he began bringing someone, a Snezhnayan diplomat with too much money and no skill at using chopsticks. Over many months, Xiangling has witnessed their developing relationship, and can now say with confidence that they are romantically involved. After all, who could be a better authority on the couples of Liyue than the owner of the #1 Date Spot herself?
Childe has never once made an effort to practice using chopsticks, and Xiangling figures out why one day when Mr. Zhongli feeds Childe himself. It was that interaction that opened Xiangling’s third eye, and since then she has been watching the pair carefully. She’s even mentioned it to Chef Mao before: “So, what do you think? They’re cute together, right?”
But Chef Mao had not bought her scheme: “What is it with you young girls, always putting handsome guys together in your minds? Seems like a business relationship to me.”
Clearly, Xiangling sees something in them that Chef Mao does not.
One day, Childe brings a rather nice pair of chopsticks with him. Upon further inspection, Xiangling makes out a dragon and phoenix engraved into the golden ends. That’s good enough to be a marriage proposal! As casually as possible, she asks, “Wow, Childe, those chopsticks are gorgeous! Where did you get them?”
“Oh, these?” Childe waves them around unnaturally, “A gift from Mr. Zhongli! Aren’t they nice?” The way he looks at Mr. Zhongli then, with the most light in his eyes Xiangling has ever seen—yes, any doubt in her mind that these two are not romantically involved has been eliminated. (She also doubts that Mr. Zhongli had paid for them himself, knowing his spending habits.)
“Yes, they’re very well-crafted,” Mr. Zhongli sips his tea, “I felt a good pair would encourage you to practice.”
Obviously, that had not happened. “Ha! You have so much faith in me, Mr. Zhongli. You should just teach me how to use them,” Childe leans in with his hand on his chin, almost pouting.
“I have taught you before,” To watch the courteous and well-mannered Mr. Zhongli bickering with his lover like this—what a sight!
“I’m a hands-on learner, you know.”
It’s at this point that Xiangling feels like she is intruding. She clears some empty side dishes and hurries back to the kitchen. Through the open wall, Xiangling watches as Mr. Zhongli guides Childe’s hand, positions his fingers around the chopsticks.
Beside her, Chef Mao whispers, “I feel like I owe you Mora.”
Xingqiu
There is nowhere Xingqiu would rather be in his spare time than in Chongyun’s company. Compared to the stuffy atmosphere of the Commerce building, his time with Chongyun is freeing. On this sunny day, they peruse the market together, having just visited the book house. “What's your opinion of this one?” Xingqiu asks, displaying a white quill pen, “Too garish?”
“Lovely,” Chongyun nods, and Xingqiu knows he means it.
A loud laugh rings out nearby. The boys turn toward it, only to find Mr. Zhongli with Childe of the Fatui. Everyone knows them in the city; their presence is slightly foreboding. Although, Xingqiu does hold immense respect for Mr. Zhongli. They’re quite the unlikely pair, Xingqiu thinks. Then again, the same could be said for him and Chongyun.
Mr. Zhongli catches the two boys’ glances and nods to them, “Hello, boys.”
“See, everyone’s out enjoying the weather today,” Childe says, causing Mr. Zhongli to look back at him with such fondness that it catches Xingqiu off-guard.
He can’t help but stare as the two men browse the stall next to them. The men’s shoulders brush as Mr. Zhongli points out some expensive-looking antique, and then Childe’s fingers come to rest on his arm… Xingqiu can’t look away.
Xingqiu has no objections to homosexuality; in fact, many of his favorite romance novels are of the, um, boy-kissed genre. At first, he’d rationalized it by convincing himself that the best plots come from these types of novels, but eventually, he had to admit that perhaps he wanted a relationship like that for himself. His brother had once found one of Xingqiu’s more overtly-homosexual novels, and had proceeded to leave the room without saying anything. Xingqiu took that as a positive sign.
It was one thing to read about two men in a relationship, but he has never seen one in reality. And now—It’s a lot to assume that the funeral consultant is in a relationship with a member of the Fatui, isn’t it? But the way Mr. Zhongli leans back so slightly into Childe’s presence behind him—Xingqiu sees something there. Something appealing, something like… Xingqiu takes his eyes away from them and focuses on Chongyun next to him. Surprisingly, Chongyun’s attention has been on the two men as well. In a split second, Xingqiu’s usually composed thought process goes out the window and he is left with images of Chongyun’s fingers on his arm, Chongyun laughing for him, leaning into Chongyun.
Yes. Something like that.
At the stall next to them, Childe pulls out a bag of Mora and buys the antique for Mr. Zhongli as if he does so all the time. And together they walk off, chatting contentedly.
Xingqiu speaks first, “Chongyun… Do you think they’re…?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s unexpected.” His voice sounds coarse, and Xingqiu notices the faint pink in his cheeks. Adorable.
“Isn’t it?” Xingqiu tugs on his sleeve, not daring to fully clutch at his arm. “Well, did you still want to go to get those snacks you like?”
Chongyun hesitates. “Didn’t you… want this pen? I can, uh, I can buy it, for you.”
Xingqiu’s heart melts. “Oh, you truly are the best, my dear Chongyun!” And he is thankful, today, that they stumbled upon that unlikely pair.
La Signora
Sometimes La Signora wishes there were Ten Fatui Harbingers rather than Eleven. Perhaps even Nine would be better, if they could kick out both Childe and Scaramouche… She can’t get too lost in her fantasies now. Childe is the youngest Harbinger, so it’s expected that he causes the most issues. He works efficiently and always gets the job done, but for La Signora, he’s a headache.
“Childe, please quit moping around and find something to do.” She isn’t even supposed to be here now, but emergency business in Liyue meant dealing with Childe.
“But I’m bored,” ‘Childe’ is a fitting name for him, considering how he is whining like a kid, “I haven’t fought anything in a while. I’m about to head to a bar and start a bar fight.”
“And damage our reputation further, perfect idea.”
Childe groans, “Well I either need a mission or someone to fight!”
This is ridiculous; Signora has actual work to do instead of babysitting her co-worker. “Why don’t you just go ask your boyfriend?”
Those words seems to give Childe a burst of energy. “Ahahaha, boyfriend? Who would that be? Vlad and I have been on good terms lately, but not that good.”
A troublemaker and an idiot. “Oh, you know, a certain ex-Archon who you’ve been trailing like a puppy because you like him so much.”
Childe’s laugh comes out as nervous. “Ah, you’re imagining things! We just get along well.”
In lieu of pointing out that Childe does not simply “get along well” with anyone that’s not his family, Signora says, “You’ve had the flowers he gave you on your desk for how long now?”
It was a very nice bouquet of silk flowers that would even make someone like Signora’s heart waver. “He gives gifts to everyone like that.”
She sighs. “I’m done talking to you.”
And Childe goes back to wallowing in his boredom, but quieter this time. Good. Hopefully this will allow that dense bastard enough time for some much-needed introspection.
Signora thinks back to about six years ago when Childe had first joined the Fatui. Surprisingly, he’s mellowed out over the years. Back then he’d been a completely unhinged teenager who picked fights even within the Fatui. He and Scaramouche have broken each other's bones so many times that Signora lost count. It was that behavior from years ago that made an impression on everyone, and caused many not to like him. Signora herself is unlikeable for different reasons, but she is not trying to be liked. For Childe, however… it would be good for him, to have someone who genuinely enjoys his company.
Zhongli is an absolute blessing for Childe. Signora cannot figure out what he possibly sees in Childe, but from the one or two times she’s seen them together, the mutual attraction is sickeningly obvious. Childe looks at Zhongli differently than he looks upon his enemies, but with no less intensity. Although it seems like Childe provides far more for Zhongli than the other way around, he receives as much as he gives in the form of doting attention from Zhongli.
Technically, now that Rex Lapis’ Gnosis was in Tsaritsa’s hands, Childe could be dispatched to a different region. But he’d chosen to stay in Liyue for “diplomatic reasons,” and that’s when Signora knew . Childe had arrived here as a teenage brat, had found a home here, grown up here, fallen in love here.
Disgusting.
Oh, well, Signora thought, he likely won’t be the last Harbinger to settle down. The Fatui has plenty of Mora to hold a proper wedding. Perhaps that will form some beneficial political relationships as well...
The Ferrylady
Working at a funeral parlor is bound to involve an element of mystery. They often deal with corpses who died suspiciously, or from illegal activity. But as Mr. Zhongli always says, “Everyone deserves to have a proper sending-off.”
But perhaps the most mysterious aspect of working at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is Mr. Zhongli himself. It’s been years since she’s signed on as the Ferrylady, and yet, Mr. Zhongli is as much a mystery to her as he is to anyone else. The man has not aged a day, and knows everything about any antique that crosses his path. Admirably, he will also go to any length to help people.
The Ferrylady wonders one day if Mr. Zhongli ever becomes lonely. After all, most of his clients have lost their loved ones, and Mr. Zhongli never fails to show the utmost sympathy toward them. But does he have a family of his own to come home to? He’s of that age, she thinks. Then again, Mr. Zhongli could just as easily be 25 as he could 40, with that timeless appearance of his...
“Please prepare some tea,” Mr. Zhongli’s deep voice breaks her away from her thoughts, “Childe will be arriving soon.”
“Yes, sir,” And she begins to brew the tea right away. Come to think of it, Mr. Zhongli mentions Childe far more than he has ever alluded to the existence of a wife or children (which he never has). Childe… That man is surely interesting, and often for the wrong reasons. For someone as noble as Mr. Zhongli to get wrapped up with the likes of Childe is surprising enough, but to actively befriend him like this? She can’t understand it.
Sure enough, Childe arrives at Wangsheng right on time, and greets Mr. Zhongli with a bright smile and wave. Mr. Zhongli smiles back. But it’s different . Almost like…
Oh. Oh .
Suddenly the Ferrylady begins reconsidering all the times she’s observed Childe and Mr. Zhongli in the same room. It makes so much sense now, knowing that Mr. Zhongli wants Childe like that. And he’s a Fatui member! How is she supposed to reckon with this very scandalous knowledge?
“The tea, please. Is everything alright?” Mr. Zhongli looks to the Ferrylady, and yes, his smile is nothing like it was just a moment ago.
She steadies her hands, brings over the antique porcelain teapot, “Yes, sir, everything is fine.” They both wear similar rings on their hands as well. Surely that must be a coincidence?
Usually when Childe visits the funeral parlor, she tries not to eavesdrop. But now, upon her realization, the temptation is just too much.
Despite how well-spoken he is, Mr. Zhongli usually lets others do most of the talking until he contributes knowledge about culture or antiques. With Childe, however, his conversations sound like that of an average person. Childe has business to do here, and yet they do some catching up (although she knows they just saw each other two days prior): “Get this—my sister wrote to me and said she wants to be the flower girl at my wedding. My wedding! When does she think I’m getting married, haha…”
Mr. Zhongli huffs out an amused chuckle, “Who knows, it may happen sooner than you’d expect.”
Who knew her boss could be this forward!
The Ferrylady can’t bear to listen anymore; her face is already too flushed. She casually leaves Mr. Zhongli’s office, finding Hu Tao in the main room. Normally, the Ferrylady is intimidated by Hu Tao’s presence, let alone speaking to her. But her curiosity persuades her to do unexpected things. She approaches Hu Tao. “Excuse me, Miss, do you perhaps know if Mr. Zhongli and Childe… if they are…?”
“If they are in a relationship?” Hu Tao looks actually amused, an expression the Ferrylady has never seen from her, “They are, unfortunately. At least, Mr. Zhongli is courting him seriously. Mr. Zhongli even had prepared a bouquet of silk flowers for him.”
“I see, thank you, Miss.” Just as she suspected. Mr. Zhongli never mentioned a wife because he’d found one in the murderous Eleventh Harbinger!
The Ferrylady lingers in the main room, pretending to keep busy by straightening things out, until Childe and Mr. Zhongli emerge from the office. They don’t look disheveled at all, which is good—oh, how could she think like that!
“A pleasure as always, Mr. Zhongli,” Childe’s tone is undoubtedly flirtatious, and the Ferrylady once again feels as though she is intruding.
“Of course, Childe. I will see you tomorrow for dinner.”
How had she not realized this before? They’ve been hiding a relationship right under everyone’s noses! As a good employee, the Ferrylady thinks she should show support to Mr. Zhongli. When she comes back to clean up the tea, she says, “I hope that everything is well with Childe, Mr. Zhongli.”
“With Childe?” He seems surprised that she asked, and then his eyes melt into something soft. “Yes, all is well.”
The Fatui Harbinger… Maybe he can bring some positive change to Liyue after all.
Childe
Three weeks ago, Tartaglia told himself he would confess his feelings to Zhongli. On that day, however, the weather was rainy, so he decided against it. The next week, he promised that he would confess his feelings once again. This time, the construction at the harbor was too loud. The week after that, he promised the same, and again, Tartaglia did not follow through. It’s pathetic, how he can take someone’s life with no hesitation, but confessing his feelings like a romance protagonist is too much.
These feelings were difficult to come to terms with from the start. Never before has Tartaglia been so affected by one person. It’s true that most of his young adult life was taken away from him upon entering the Fatui, but he quickly realized that this connection was something rare. Perhaps if he’d had a more conventional teenage era, he’d call it a ‘crush’.
It began about six months ago, even before Tartaglia knew of Zhongli’s identity as the Geo Archon (which he’d tried to be mad about, but that knowledge only made things worse, as he found Zhongli’s potential power insanely attractive). He began to feel bothered whenever he was with Zhongli; not in a bad way, but in a confused way. Because Zhongli drew out bizarre desires from him, and he couldn’t figure out why. He wanted to fight Zhongli, yes, but more than that...
Tartaglia wants to spoil him. Wants to absolutely defile him. Wants to see what he looks like when those manners and that flawless composure are broken down.
Because of the nature of these feelings, Tartaglia had taken it for lust at first. Perfectly healthy! But then the Zhongli-centric emotions took a turn—Tartaglia also wants to help tidy his office. Cook his favorite soup for him. Kiss him when he rambles about antiques. Wake up in the morning by his side.
It’s embarrassing; Tartaglia is supposed to be a hardened debt collector, feared fighter, and powerful diplomat. And he is, he is all of these things, and it took a long time to convince himself that he can be his bloodthirsty self while also having soft domestic fantasies about his business connection-turned-friend. Who also happens to be an ex-god. The more Tartaglia thought about it, the more ridiculous reality became, and that was why he’d never confessed.
He has no excuses today. The weather is clear, construction is on the other side of the city, the lighting is romantic, and there are hardly any people around. They’ve just finished dinner at Liuli Pavilion, which Tartaglia already wished was a date (he’d even practiced his chopsticks, and Zhongli had noticed). And now, taking a stroll around Yujing Terrace as the sun lowers in the sky, he truly feels like they’re on a date.
Just to test the waters: “Ah, this is kind of romantic, don’t you think? Walking around the terrace at sunset…”
“Isn’t it? Very romantic,” Zhongli says. It’s that easy? Tartaglia’s confidence just skyrocketed.
They stop at one of the covered areas of the terrace, overlooking the Harbor. The sun creates a glowing path in the Sea of Clouds. “Mr. Zhongli,” Tartaglia begins, “I must confess something to you.”
Zhongli looks concerned at the sudden seriousness, “Hm? What might that be?”
Tartaglia’s practice at villain monologuing has done nothing to help him in this moment. Although he’d planned to confess for weeks now, he had not prepared at all. “What am I doing, getting nervous over this? I can’t do anything the normal way, can I.” But he wants to. Zhongli is such a traditional man; he owes this to him, to court him in a traditional way even when Tartaglia wants to cut to the chase.
Time to get this over with.
Tartaglia takes a breath. “I’m attracted to you. And I have… romantic intentions. Do what you like with this information.” And he exhales. It’s done.
In battle, he always dodges with ease, but now he braces himself for the blow.
It never comes.
“Well,” Zhongli manages to look both amused and fond, “It is reassuring to know that we are both on the same page.”
The same page . “So you—you!”
“I’ve been courting you, yes,” Zhongli chuckles, “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice.”
The time Tartaglia has spent with Zhongli flashes before his eyes. “Then the flowers—and the chopsticks…”
Tartaglia is a fool, bested by Zhongli once again.
His relief and happiness act alongside a flare of passion as he clenches the lapel of Zhongli’s coat, because this is unforgivable. “You think it’s funny to leave me in the dark for a second time? I want to fight you so bad!”
Zhongli’s laugh is a rarity in itself, and now it sounds clearer than ever. “You’ve just confessed, and the first thing you do is declare war on me?” Tartaglia’s grip on his coat softens as Zhongli places his hand on top. “Are you sure it’s fighting that you want, my dear?”
Oh, this… This is new. This is exciting.
“No.”
As for what follows, Tartaglia will definitely not disclose that in his weekly letter home. But the following morning, he is able to fulfill the first of his domestic fantasies: waking up by Zhongli’s side. Tartaglia is not used to this, but he’d like to be. Zhongli is still asleep, looking oddly youthful and vulnerable. It should not come as a surprise that the Lord of Geo sleeps like, well, a rock. (He’s built like a rock, too, Tartaglia has discovered.)
Tartaglia just lies there in deep contemplation until Zhongli does wake up. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Tartaglia.” Zhongli’s morning voice, the use of his preferred name… Today is already a good day.
Zhongli leans in, hesitates before kissing him. That’s something else he’s excited to get used to.
As Zhongli begins his morning routine (which is very extensive, as it turns out), Tartaglia decides to take advantage of his own positive mood and finish his weekly letter.
He ends it with a smile on his face:
P.S.: I’m in a sudden good mood this morning! Tonia, I would be honored to have you as my flower girl. You’ll all be invited, of course. I’m thinking of a spring wedding.
Much love,
Ajax