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“One skewer, please.” Zhongli says, holding up one gloved finger. He opens his palm instinctively. Before, a gold coin would have appeared naturally in his hand - he looks at his empty palm for a moment, then drops his arm to his side. “Ah. One moment…”
As he’s feeling around in his pocket for his coin pouch, the person standing next to him speaks up.
“Allow me.” The boy says - and he’s only a boy, blue-haired and dressed more like someone from Mondstadt than Liyue, white frills flaring at his wrists. The fabric of his blue jacket is fine and well-made. Its dense weave shines with a luxurious sheen under the golden light of the street cart’s lantern at dusk.
Zhongli looks at him. The boy hands the cart owner some Mora, and before he knows it, there’s a piping hot skewer in his hand.
“Thank you,” he says, inclining his head slightly. He doesn’t recognize him - have they met before?
The boy smiles.
“My pleasure,” he says, taking another bite of his own skewer. He eats more voraciously than his slender frame would suggest. His eyes are as golden as cor lapis. They reflect the warm light of the lanterns around them.
“Have we met?” Zhongli says, taking a small bite of his own food.
“In a manner of speaking.” The boy says, that ineffable smile still lighted on his face, like the gentle wings of a pure-hearted dove. He sticks the skewer in his mouth briefly, holds its tip between his teeth as he quickly wipes his fingers with a napkin - and then extends a hand to shake. “Xingqiu, at your service.”
Zhongli takes it with the hand not busy with his own food.
“Zhongli.” He says. “But you must know that already.”
Xingqiu’s smile widens a bit, just enough to show white teeth.
“I’ve been told you have some interesting stories,” he says, with a hint of a keen edge of intellect. “I’ve always wanted to hear one.”
“Really?” Zhongli says, slightly amused. In his mind, he casts around for where he might have met the young man before, and comes up empty - no small feat for someone with his memory. “I’m always available at the Wangsheng funeral parlor.”
Xingqiu finishes his skewer and wipes his mouth briskly with a napkin. Zhongli commits his name and face to memory. He enjoys getting to know the people in Liyue.
“Until next time, then,” Xingqiu says, giving Zhongli a slight, polite nod with a trace of a smile, like a good child should to their elders.
Zhongli watches as he sets off down the street.
--
“Come in,” Zhongli says at the knock at his door, distracted by the documents on his desk. Being the Geo Archon isn’t all fun and games. If he stays away for too long, his paperwork begins to pile up at the funeral parlor, and he’s been so distracted with the whole Rex Lapis ordeal…
Someone steps in and closes the door behind them. Their footsteps are light.
Zhongli looks up after a moment.
“How can I…” He says, trailing off at the sight of a now-familiar face. “Oh. Hello.”
Xingqiu grins at him. It’s an expression a little less serene and a little more impish than when they had first met at the street cart. The bright sunlight streaming through the window of Zhongli’s office illuminates his delicate features.
“Xingqiu, at your service,” he says, with a slight bow. “I’m here to deliver a book for Mr. Zhongli.”
“Ah.” Zhongli says, his memory supplying that he’d requested the latest volume of the Legend of the Lone Sword series a little while back. “From Wanwen Bookhouse?”
Xingqiu takes a meticulously wrapped bundle the size and shape of a book out of his pack.
“So even the esteemed Mr. Zhongli enjoys volumes like these.” He says, sounding intrigued. His cheerful energy is infectious. Zhongli finds himself smiling as he accepts the bundle.
“Fiction is as noble a pursuit as nonfiction,” he replies, looking down, untying the twine that keeps the fabric bound around the book. He extracts his volume from the cloth and sets it aside. Xingqiu watches as Zhongli quickly, neatly, folds the fabric back into a square and holds it up for him to take. “Do you work for the Bookhouse? I’ve never seen you there before.”
Xingqiu takes the fabric back and tucks it into his pack.
“I’m only running a few errands on the owner’s behalf, as one of their regular patrons.” He says, smoothing down the lip of his bag after putting the cloth away. He turns his gaze back onto Zhongli - he seems like he’s having fun. “Since I happened to be free.”
“I see.” Zhongli says, nodding thoughtfully. He catches sight of a dim blue glow - a Hydro vision dangles from Xingqiu’s hip, almost hidden by the pristine ruffles of his sleeves.
Zhongli almost smiles. So the Goddess of Justice has laid her claim onto this one already. She’s always had good taste.
“As a regular patron of the Wanwen Bookhouse,” he says, turning his gaze back to Xingqiu’s face and his attention to their conversation, “are there any other volumes you would recommend to me?”
Xingqiu smiles.
“If I could presume to offer a recommendation?” He says, his grin taking on a mischievous edge. “I would, of course, recommend the four volumes of Rex Incognito, but I’m sure one as learned as Mr. Zhongli has read them already.”
Zhongli almost laughs. There are few people in Liyue who are aware of his true identity, but Xingqiu has somehow gotten ahold of this information.
“I happen to know the contents of Rex Incognito very well.” He says. Almost too well, he thinks - he can remember most of those encounters as though they were yesterday.
--
Zhongli spends most of his time in Liyue Harbor, but he does occasionally go out to patrol the greater part of the continent. He’s not against hilichurl and Abyss Order activity on principle, but if they get too close to the towns they have a tendency to seize carts of supplies, halting trade and generally causing trouble for the citizens.
Maybe he’s still coddling his country a bit, he thinks ruefully, as he summons a meteor and dispatches six mitachurls in one strike.
He dusts off his hands and is about to put away his polearm - but he hears another noise coming from a rock face slightly down the cliff. He leans over the edge. The sound of splashing reaches his ears.
“Let me read you a verse,” he hears someone say, faintly. It’s a voice he thinks he’s heard before. Intrigued, he hops down the cliff face and perches at an angle where he has a good view of the action.
It’s Xingqiu. What is a bookworm doing all the way out here, Zhongli thinks - and then he sees the ring of Hydro swords hovering around Xingqiu’s shoulders, and another piece of information slots into place.
But it seems like Xingqiu has bitten off a little more than he can handle. As Zhongli watches, an electrified arrow strikes him and sends shockwaves through his body. It seems painful.
Zhongli sighs and stands, brushing off his knees and unsheathing his polearm.
Xingqiu had bought him a meal, after all.
He descends on the group with a flutter and the point of his spear, and makes quick work of the remaining hilichurls with Xingqiu’s help.
“I’d heard the Guhua clan had found a promising successor while on the brink of extinction,” Zhongli says, putting away his polearm, barely breathing hard. Xingqiu shakes a piece of rock out of his hair. “Your control of the Raincutter rivals some of the old masters.”
“I’m still in the midst of training,” Xingqiu says humbly, not seeming too put out by being rescued.
“Is that so.” Zhongli says, deadpan. “Is that why you were out here, a very long way from the Wanwen Bookstore, fighting hilichurls like a lone adventurer?”
Xingqiu grins at him and reaches up to brush some crumbling rock off Zhongli’s shoulder.
“I’ve never seen anyone use a skill like that.” He says, instead of being scared, or acknowledging the fact that Zhongli is the Geo archon, or telling him who in the world he is to be using near-extinct martial arts with astonishing ease in the foothills of Mt. Hulao. “You’re covered in dust.”
“That’s the problem with petrification.” Zhongli grumbles. “I’ll have to get this suit dry-cleaned when we return to the Harbor.”
Xingqiu’s grin, if possible, grows wider.
“We?” He says. “So you’ll accompany me?”
“I happened to be planning on returning as well.” Zhongli says, looking down at him. Xingqiu only reaches to his shoulder in height. The Hydro vision gleams innocently from his hip.
“Score.” Xingqiu says, tucking his sword away. Zhongli eyes the blade - it’s well crafted. It couldn’t have cost a small sum to make.
“Do you leave the Harbor often?” He asks, following Xingqiu as he sets out. It seems like Xingqiu knows this area by heart.
“Occasionally. Sometimes with company.” Xingqiu replies, turning as Zhongli catches up to him with his longer stride. He presses his fingers to his lips. He’s still smiling - maybe an aftereffect of the adrenaline of the fight. “Shh. For certain reasons, I must keep my adventures a secret.”
“Certain reasons.” Zhongli murmurs, falling into step beside him. The tails of his long coat swish around his legs as he walks. “A mysterious young man, indeed.”
“I could say the same about you, Mr. Zhongli.” Xingqiu says, a spring in his step, looking at him. “The presumed-dead Rex Lapis, Geo archon, walking amongst the mortals and dressed up as a funeral parlor attendant?”
“Gods are also mortals,” Zhongli huffs, and Xingqiu laughs out loud. “We can also die.”
“Of course.” Xingqiu says. “My apologies.”
“But how did you come across this knowledge?” Zhongli asks, as they make their way around the foothills of Mt. Hulao.
“I’m very good at research, Mr. Zhongli,” Xingqiu says cheerfully, not giving any information away whatsoever.
--
“... and this is my second son.” The leader of the Feiyun Commerce Guild gestures at someone Zhongli knows all too well.
Xingqiu is sweet and polite, the vision of an obedient second child. His hands are folded in front of him, and he gives a delicate bow at his father’s words.
“Xingqiu, the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild.” He says, his inclined head hiding a mischievous smile. “At your service.”
“And I at yours,” Zhongli murmurs with surprise, tipping his head in return. When Xingqiu looks back up, his golden eyes are gleaming with laughter.
They’re at a party - one of the Qixing’s elaborate affairs - so Zhongli doesn’t monopolize the Commerce Guild’s time. There are many people vying to talk to Xingqiu’s father and brother.
But apparently, Xingqiu’s attentions are not as sought after.
“Your father doesn’t need you inside?” Zhongli says, by way of greeting, walking up to stand next to Xingqiu on the balcony. The young man is staring out over the warm, sparkling lights of Liyue Harbor. The autumn breeze is crisp in his hair, catching on the embroidered sleeves of his formal traditional robes.
“The first son is the child who needs to be seen.” Xingqiu says, taking a deep breath of the fresh air with a smile. “I prefer it out here.”
Zhongli turns his gaze away from Xingqiu’s face and out in the same direction he’s looking, over the docks.
“I’m surprised I haven’t heard your name before, at least in passing.” Zhongli says, lacing his hands behind the small of his back, appreciating the brief respite from the hustle and bustle of the party inside. “The Feiyun Commerce Guild is not exactly an unknown organization.”
Xingqiu shrugs.
“I try and keep a low profile. So my adventures can go unnoticed.” He says, his lips quirking. If Zhongli looks, he can just barely see the same impudent youngster who had accompanied him from Mt. Hulao to the Harbor. He’s hidden under layers of fanceries and etiquette, but he’s there. “Being overly concerned about reputation isn’t very chivalrous, after all.”
Zhongli chuckles.
“If your father and brother can spare you for a weekend,” he says, looking back towards Xingqiu, “would you like to have a new adventure in Jueyun Karst?”
“The realm of the adepti?” Xingqiu exclaims, turning to Zhongli, excitement sparkling in his golden eyes. “I’ve heard that mortals who step foot in that area get cursed!”
Zhongli smiles.
“Not if you have an invitation from a god,” he says. A gentle gust of wind dances around them, making Zhongli’s earring twirl in the dusk light. The tails of his coat shift gently in the breeze, and Liyue Harbor is beautiful and glowing like amber and steady as stone, just like its former archon. “It reminds me of a story about the adeptus named Mountain Shaper…”