Archive of Our Own

Liyue's harbor was built on the bank of the Sea of Clouds, hiding away behind steep hillsides and tall stones forests. The bountiful port had a varieties of shops, restaurants, houses and temples which were all piled up next to each other with a series of interlocking alleyways and a single street zigzagging all the way down to the docks below.

At the approching of the annual Rite of Descending, the greatest trading port in all of Teyvat was now lit up by a newfound fervor - in the honor of the great Geo Archon, Rex Lapis, citizens and travellers alike, offered noctilucous jade, sweet incenses and silk flowers which were brought in Yujing Terrace's at the intricately-carved altar, under the watchful eye of some Millelith guards. 

It was there that a ginger-haired man smoothly slipped through the swarm of merchants, eagerly heading towards his destination and paying no mind to the deafening chatter of some delighted passers-by in traditional Liyue's Hanfu and Tang suit.

The further he went into the mercantile city, the further his nostrils flared up when a foreign sharp briny aroma hit the air; the waves distantly rolling and crashing into the coast in a soothing rhythm. 

Everything stood up as harmonious in Liyue - from the way a golden leaf would fall down into the ground, to the way people would respectfully converse with each other.

Snezhnaya was no stranger to unity per say; only it was a deceitful pristine oneness willed by Their Tsarista, one that was as phantom-white as the snows of yesteryear – Liyue’s harmony was natural, unlike his homeland’s artificially made up one. Still, he was proud of his nation, even if he knew all too perfectlty well that his peers were mere snakes in disguise, ready to bite at the small show of weakness. Childe was after all born from the pit of vipers, and one as them as well, whether, the other Harbingers, or he, liked it or not.

Known to ultimately wreck havoc wherever he went, he was all the more stranger to this land of peacefulness; almost challenged to bring chaos upon the perfectly balanced equilibrium Liyue's Archon had nurtured over millennias of history. 

However, Childe had orders. 

Indeed, even if the Fatui already had a bad reputation all across Teyvat, they still had to keep up appearances in front of the other nations. No doubt a political move guessed Childe; when it came down to it, people could only fear what they didn't know. 

Thus, The Tsaritsa would not accept defeat, even less insubordination for the sole purpose of indulging his own entertainement over the mission. 

The memory of eyes as cold as a Snezhnayan storm, vividly pierced into his soul.

Zapolyarny Palace throne room had been silent with tense expectation as Tartaglia had kneeled down in deference at His Goddess’ feet. At the top of the stairway, The Tsarista had majestically stood, a frozen beauty carved from ice.

'Locate the Geo Archon and retrieve his elemental gnosis. Succeed at all costs my sweet child.'

Well. That certainly had been an unexpected assignment. Sudden and unanticipated, but nonetheless exciting. 

With viscious delight, he remembered how Signora's perfect composure had shattered like glass, when she had learned he had outstriped her for this mission.

'Her Excellency Tsaritsa is expecting results. Failure is not an option Childe.' Had hissed The Fair Lady through clenched teeth, her pale eyes as sharp as the edge of a sword. At that time, it was clear she had only wanted to claw the Eleven Harbinger's eyes right out of his sockets, while his only answer had been to cockily gloat at her. 

Yes. That's right, The Tsaritsa trusted him to accomplish this highly sensible and arduous task. Only him, not them. 

Who is truly laughing now I wonder? 

That alone already tasted like the sweetest of victory on his tongue. Still, his work in Liyue had only barely started, there remained a lot to do if he ever wanted to pin down his target. 

Steal from a God uh? 

Indeed, officially the 11th of the Fatui Harbingers had been send to Liyue to play the role of a negociator in the Northland Bank, and be in charge of the funding for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. In truth however, he was send to strip a God off his divine status - the implicate order being the assassination of the Geo Archon once the gnosis in his possession. 

Finally a challenge worth the effort. 

This mission was ambitious to say the least; yet the Fatui had many assets, some internal, some external, to tip the scale in his favor. For one thing, after only a few weeks, he practically had the city wrapped around his finger. Walls indeed had ears in Liyue and as he had learn, the right amount of moras could loosen even the more reluctant of tongues. 

He snickered as he rounded the corner of a street. Fools. It was all too easy to have them in the palm of his hand. 

Under all the niceties, games always had rules; and no one played the game of cat and mouse quite like the Fatui. By now, Tartaglia was used to hide his true intentions behind the mask of a bright smile and a flirty demeanour; until his targets were so caught up in a web of lies, that it was far too late for them to escape his trap. 

He felt his heart spike up when the idea of marring the floor with the blood of his opponent crossed his mind. There was only so little he could do against his true nature, which he couldn't contain forever, he was after all devoted to the thrill of battle.

Crossing swords always made him feel so alive, and Rex Lapis was sure to put up quite a fight.

The Harbinger could already tell the God would drive him in a corner at the height of battle. Would he be forced to use his Foul Legacy? Oh, of course he would. If the rumors were indeed true, Morax was the oldest and strongest Archon out there, with all do respect to His Tsarista. 

Ah, what a great battle it would surely be...

The taste of metal dancing on his tongue, stabbing in swirls along his skin and smearing his vision into a watery blur of red and black.

Ahh. 

However, patience was key. For the sake of his position and the trust the Cryo Archon gave him, he had learn the difference between the irresistible impulse, and the impulse not resisted. For the time being at least. 

Hence, the Harbinger held back his passing and dangerous thoughts; filing them down in his mind to a more appropriate time. He was patient, he could wait. In fact, the more he waited, the sweetest was the reward in the end. 

And eventually, even the proudest mountain eroded over time, and Tartaglia was nothing, if not the torrent that would bring forth its slow destruction. 

But, there was however one small detail the red-head had far too overlooked over the couple of weeks of his stay in Liyue. One completely unexpected flaw in his plan, was actually the man currently expecting him for dinner. 

There was no denying Zhongli was very well versed in a great deal of affairs and took into great consideration the temporary contract between Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and the Fatui. 

Hence, to build a connection between their associations; the Harbinger and the consultant had been doing these 'business dinners', as Zhongli called them, for quite a while now. 

Still, Tartaglia couldn't help but sense that they had quickly turned into so much more than strickly professional meetings. If not, how could he explain the warmth radiating off his chest every time Zhongli all but gazed at him?

His stomach always felt strange, all jittery and shaky. It was like having butterflies. 

This was bad. 

Everything wasn't going as it was meant to, and this divergence was dangerous, but how so very intoxicating. 

Childe smirked to himself in excitement, as he crossed a bridge overlooking the crystal clear azure of the bay.

He had of course realized how his obsession and attachement to the Wangsheng consultant could endanger his mission; yet he had no doubt he could easily dwell on this issue later; Zhongli was after all only a small inconsequential pass time for him. A tiny distraction from work. 

Obviously. 

But then he recalled those eyes.

How they had shimmered ethereally in the light the first time they met his, brighter than any Snezhnayan's jewels he had even set eyes on; and he felt his resolution dangerously waver. 

The other was just so... Mystifying.

Zhongli shined like gold, a spring in a desert, crying out for attention. It was frankly maddening how he could both be knowledgeable on practically any topics, rambling hours of lectures about rocks facts; while at the same time being, totally oblivious to the bewitching effect he had on others. 

The man was an enigma and a challenge in himself, packed in a pretty wrapping. 

But no matter; The Tsaritsa's command is absolute. Every Harbinger ought to bring her Will into fruition, at any price. Personal feelings had no place in this great scheme. 

Nothing else remained, nothing but utter devotion to Her.

Realizing he had been drifting into his thoughts, Childe violently shook his head, finally catching sight of Wan Shou Shan as the tea house appearing out in the horizon - light jade colored Xie Shan roofs glowing as the sky dyed a shade of pomegrane orange.

The buidling was nestled between two dumplings restaurants by the harbour - the traditional building was only accessible from the outside through a red lacquered wooden door, carved in geometrical motifs, flowers and foliages, centuries old.

In a similar fashion, the windows had been handcrafted, the last gleams of the day lighting up the entire shop with kaleidoscopic tinges of gold. Yet, shadowed by the looming Mt.Tianheng, some streets were already lit up with glowing red lights.

Although less prestigious than Yanshang tea house in the main street, the establishment was charming and sold small plate of food along with a great variety of tea they proposed to their customers - a fair trade according to his host, who disliked opulent and lavish settings. Childe however did not favored any of them, as long as the food was warm in his plate, he was fine with pratically anything. 

With confidence, the Snezhnayan stepped inside the edifice; grandly waving at a tall man with brown hair fading down to amber at the tips, when his ocean gaze caught on the bright amicable cor lapis eyes.

"Childe, you came," warmly greeted Zhongli in a low rumbling voice, a soft smile slightly grazing his lips, as he stood in the farthest corner of the small convivial shop. Judging by the two stoneware handless mugs and the fuming cast iron teapot, it was clear the dark haired man had been expecting the newcomer sudden arrival.

“Good evening to you too, Zhongli xiansheng,” returned the harbinger with a familiar cheeky grin plastered on his features.

“Please, have a sit,” gently indicated Zhongli, as he motioning the red-head to kneel on the other cushion facing him. He settled into it, with a relaxed demeanour that slightly hinted at a long exhausting day behind him. Unlike Zhongli who sat in a formal posture; legs folded under his body with knees joined together, Childe nonchalantly sat crossed-legged.

“I hope you don’t mind, I went ahead and already ordered something for us.”

“Oh?” The other quirked an eyebrow, inclining his head like a cat, “How forward of you,” Childe then lazily rested his chin against the palm of his hand as his elbow sat on the wood table, glancing with an intrigued look on his face at the pottery set. The teapot was shaped to perfection - smooth, elegant, glaze brown as rich soil. The handle was almost as round as the pot itself, facilitating the pouring for patrons and customers alike. “So, tea right?” 

Zhongli nodded once, “It’s my understanding that Snezhnaya is not a province reputed for its consumption of tea.”

Mirth bloomed across the Harbinger’s face and he laughed brightly, joy reflecting from his ocean eyes as he looked up with amusement at Zhongli. “You’re very right; I’d say we much prefer stronger drinks, if you get me.” Grinned Childe with a teasing wink.

As the last rays of sun leaved the peaks, light fell through the windows, framing a soft blush on the cheeks of the red-headed man, admittedly striking against his pale skin. The Archon couldn’t help but feel drawn into the liveliness of his gaze; transfixed at the sight of his bright smile, which was further enhancing his upturned sapphire orbs. Waters blue as violet banks.

“Zhongli?” asked Childe after a while, waving a hand in front of the God’s face. It snapped him out of his daze, and he blinked dazedly at his dinner partner. “Everything’s alright? You seem a little tired.” Childe inquired, with a worried expression.

“Apologies; I was... distracted,” the consultant cleared his throat and stood up straighter on the cushion, with a perfectly serene composure not once betraying his inner turmoil.

“You seemed quite interested by Liyue’s culture during our previous meeting.” He elegantly picked up two ceramics, carefully filling the cups about three-quarters of the way up with a pale liquid. It began steaming as it hit the air. “It occurred to me that I could introduce you to this local speciality,” he supplied in his deep baritone voice.

"It is surrounded by a well known legend, which I believe you will find most intriguing."

The Fatui watched like a hawk as Zhongli gracious hands moved across the table, his eyes turning half lidded as the man placed his drink before him, setting curious eyes on the brew - admiring how the silvery liquor glowed in the late afternoon sunlight. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” Practically purred out Childe, with a pleased smile slightly lifting the corner of his lips up. He settled comfortably, waiting for the other to develop. 

The consultant started the explanation in a deep voice as low as the stream of a brook, contrasting sharply with the chatter of other customers and people passing by in Liyue’s animated streets. “Some believe truth lies at the summit of high mountains, awaiting the climbers’ respond to its timeless riddles in the form of a dazzling flower named qingxin.” Zhongli paused to slowly sip at the warm beverage; his eyes falling shut as to savour the sweet taste.

He went on with a steady voice and the composure of a king. “Legends has it, Liyue’s Archon planted them on the highest peaks as a reward for the brave explorers able to reach the summit.” Zhongli tilted his wrist, intensively looking down at the content of his mug with a wistful expression.

“Aixi is made from the refined petals, imbued with the memories of the land. Due to this ancient Liyuen legend, the popular belief is that this tea can bestow divine powers.” That got the Harbinger’s attention.

“Divine powers uh?” He said noncommittally with an arched eyebrow.

Zhongli nodded.

“What kind of power exactly?”

“The force to know absolutely anything and everything infinitely in the Liyue realm.” A sudden dark look crossed Childe’s features as he clung to every word that came out of the other, never once looking away from his host.

“Interesting...”

Childe mechanically brought the cup to his lips and Zhongli set expectant eyes on the red-head, as the liquid slid down the Harbinger’s throat. It took a few seconds for the taste to sink in, the man’s eyes lightly widening as a rich natural sweetness rapidly filled his every senses.

“Oh wow, it’s surprisingly good.” The spontaneous genuine statement brought a somehow proud smile to the Archon’s face. Childe stirred the drink with a slow circular movement his wrist. “Though, a bit flavourless, not really my style; all I can taste is sweet.” In a subconscious gesture his nose wrinkled up.

“But I do feel different, somehow uplifted.” His eyes glinted, “Maybe this tea does indeed give faculties?” He raised a hand, creating a small spark of hydro magic in his palm. A vibrant water drop gleamed ominously, like a blue diamond under the paper lanterns of the shop.

His posture serene, Zhongli did not comment, eyeing the stirring water closely while he coolly brought the cup to his lips once more.

Nothing happened.

“Naaah. Nothing as expected.” Childe abruptly crushed the droplet in his palm with disappointment and immediate disinterest, quite like a child might discard an overused toy when it no longer provided him entertainment.

“Not to throw shade at you or anything xiansheng, but your stories are kinda rubbish if they are straight up made up.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s the very essence of a legend, Childe. Human societies have created fictional stories since the earliest times of civilization, to answer timeless questions and serve as a compass to each generation."

“What a boring concept.” Huffed the Harbinger, rolling his eyes and lazily leaning down in the cushion to stare up at the ceiling. 

Amused by the childish attitude of his guest, the God let out a pleasant chuckle which prettily vibrated in his broad chest.

"You'll soon learn that behind every myths exist a grain of truth." Zhongli's expression was unreadable, his lips closed and his eyes solemn and unwavering, not giving away his feelings. "A contract connecting human virtues and vices to the Eternal."

The redhead gave him a doubtful glance, but didn't further comment on the last part, bringing his teacup to his lips instead. 

When no hint a conversation came, the only ambient noise being the muttered sound of the hushed voices of the other customers’; Childe spoke again, his expression all too quickly devoided of the previous pout.

“So, I know you far too well to believe you only ordered tea.” Without looking up from his drink, Zhongli merely hummed in appraisal. Childe closed his eyes, throwing the consultant a delighted smile, while he leaned forward, head resting on his two joined hands. “What’s for dinner tonight ~” He playfully drawled, eyes shining mirthfully.

“Patience. Wait and see.”

“Ah?”

Soon after, two plates of Jade Parcels were brought to them, answering his question. Childe eyed them keenly, his growling stomach reminding him of how famished he actually was. He felt his mouth salivate at the celestial fragrance that quickly reached his nostrils as the meals were put down on the table.

“I believe they are your favourite.”

Oh sweet Tsarista. He could kiss the man at this very moment.

He might actually. Eventually.

Ah the idea of tasting those pale plump lips... All too smart and well-spoken for the man’s own good; made Childe even hungrier than he already was. How is it that no one owned the handsome consultant yet?

The Harbinger growled internally.

No matter; he was his only to take. To utterly ruin.

Childe’s mind thrummed and purred like a satiate beast. The thought felt right, like it belonged there, pulling at the strings of possessiveness lying deep within him.

The Fatui couldn’t wait to see him writhe under him.

Satisfied, he avidly reached out for the plate; but was however faced with a slight problem: Chopsticks. On the table. For him.

The only possible way for him to eat. 

Childe nearly screamed out in irritation, a Shezhnayan swear almost falling on his lips.

He could not for the sake of it, use these stiff sticks. Did not, for fact, understand why he was obliged to eat with them wherever he went in Liyue. The Tsaritsa hadn’t exactly warned him about this eventuality, when she had given him this mission.

The sharp pair of equal-length sticks almost challenged him on the table; one of the first enemy the Harbinger could not crush down into a pulp in an instant. Well, metaphorically speaking at least, as for the physical part... His fingers tingled in excitement when he day-dreamed about the crisp sound the fragile wood would make as it snapped between his fingers.

Then he remembered, the chopsticks were a gift of the mahogany haired man, and settled down at once. He awkwardly picked up the pair, staring at it like it held the power of moving on its own. But no chance with that.

Speaking of, Zhongli was in a stark contrast, perfectly wielding the pair of chopsticks resting in his hand. His eyes closed, savouring the crisp scent of the hot meal, in harmony with the sound of fiery leaves swirling on the paved ground outside. The God looked the epitome of serenity, grounded as the tallest of mountains and tranquil as the steady flow of a creek.

On the contrary, the Snezhnayan was sighing heavily, looking at his fuming meal with clear discontentment and growing frustration. Childe once again eyed the pair of ornamented chopsticks in his palm, like it was the bane of his existence. In vain, he sneakily tried to mimic the flawless hold the other had on his own chopsticks - his inexperienced fingers, unable to even lift the dish enough to reach his mouth. The portion of food fell back down pitifully, making a telling splashing sound, which dangerously ate up at the ginger-haired man already thin patience.

“Here, allow me.” Suddenly, came a familiar low baritone voice, relieving him of his anguish, and murderous intent. In a swift rustled of clothes, the consultant had rounded the table, gently settling behind Childe and correctly placing the chopsticks in his dominant hand.

The Archon guided his wrist in the right position - his breath warmly ghosting against the red-head’s ear, as he dexterously explained the basic motions. The Harbinger unconsciously pressed himself against the solid back behind him, taking in the fresh scent of glaze lilies, mixed with the intense smell of burned incense. There was also an underlying earthy smell, ancient, powerful and lethal. Childe felt dizzy of the familiar intoxicating aroma, head swarming as he shivered in delight.

He felt disappointment when Zhongli’s body heat left him as he graciously pull away, his long coat elegantly swirling around him as he sat back down in front of the Snezhnayan. His hand burned brightly, still tingling with the phantom touch of the man’s ungloved hand.

After a few trials, he finally managed the take a bite off his meal, bringing a dazzling smile upon the God’s face. Childe revelled in the rich foreign taste - the ham’s sweetness melted in the red-head’s mouth, a stark contract against the spiciness of the jueyun chilli. He went in to dig in the food again, yet the chopsticks slipped from his tight grasp; he slammed them aside with a growl of irritation. “By Tsarista’s Crown; I swear next time we have dinner together, I’m bringing my own fork.” He childishly pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Noticed his ordeal, Zhongli gracefully placed his teacup aside on the plate with both his hands; collecting a small portion of the dish between his own chopsticks and raising it up in front of the Harbinger - his amber eyes intensively fixed on the blue ones.

Despite the lack of food in his mouth, Childe gulped compulsively, throat suddenly dry and blue eyes widening up. “My, are you giving me the Mother bird treatment now?” He chuckled heartily, arching an eyebrow up to the sky.

Lightly frowning, Zhongli tilted his head with a question on his lips, as if he wasn’t seeing how subjective the setup appeared. Very much obliged, Childe shrugged, leaning in without breaking eye contact - lips warping around the steamed bun. He swallowed and grinned up at the other, his plate now almost emptied of its content. There wasn't much to start with, but Childe felt releaved at the sight. He hated wasting food. 

“Thanks for that, I’m really not good at it. It feels like my hand can’t coordinated or something.” He glanced down at his palm, “I guess they are just better at wielding a sword than using chopsticks.” He jested with a somehow challenging and cocky grin.

Zhongli noncommittally hummed, crossing his arms against his broad chest, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his arms as he carefully contemplated his next words.

“It’s quite alright Childe. I understand the difficulty you are facing; it’s an art that require great patience to fully be mastered. Still, I consider that being adept with chopsticks is the most appropriate way to consume Liyuen’s gastronomy.” The consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor softly smiled at the red-head, his tone of voice soothing to reassure him. “It will be my pleasure to further provide add if you wish for my assistance.”

“Be my guest,” beamed the Fatui, with a bright sheepish smile of excitement as he stared at Zhongli through his eyelashes. “It seems I have a lot more to learn from you.”

The Archon nodded, eyes shining warmly under the soft glow of the lit lanterns. “Indeed, you have.”

Zhongli suddenly looked through the windows, seeing lingering tinges of fiery oranges and warm yellows in the celestial sphere, slowly being drained away by spilling violet hues blanketing the sky to give way to the dark velvet of the night.

“I believe the time has come for us to leave.” Said the consultant as he effortlessly put his gloves back into place; elegantly getting up from the cushion and smoothly flattening the wrinkles that had formed on his attire. Childe nodded, shortly following him up and sneaking a hand between the lapels of his grey jacket to retrieve his moras for the payment.

Zhongli quickly stopped the movement, by raising one hand up in front of himself. “There is no need; you’re my guest after all. Let me handle the final amount.”

“Are you really sure...?” The Harbinger dropped his hand at his side, doubt written all across his face.

With a curt nod of affirmation, consultant began searching for his purse in the pocket of his gold rimmed overcoat. “Just a moment,” he warned in a low neutral tone, as he dug even deeper with his gloved hand. After a short moment, it quickly became apparent the dark haired man was in fact only rummaging through air.

Childe’s mouth dropped, as he incredulously stared at the other man.

"Say xiansheng,” carefully started the Fatui, fearing the worse, "Clear up a doubt..."

Zhongli’s hands stilled at the tone, still half-buried in his brown overcoat. He stood as stiff as a board next to the red-head with a blank expression.

“How expensive is this tea exactly?”

“...”

The Archon stayed silent, his mouth set into a grim line as he blinked a few times in confusion.

“Ahh, just as I thought.”

The Harbinger shook his head, sighting dramatically as he reiterated the previous motion of getting his own moras’ purse out. He smiled teasingly at the consultant, voice filled with affection as he made the mockery of a bow.

“Well then, allow me," Warmth swirled in the golden orbs, as they met playful ones, blue as noctilucous jade’s.