Chapter Text
Finer days, like dust, had long slipped through Zhongli’s fingers, leaving nothing but the remnants on his gloves like ruins dotting the landscape of the place he had once called home.
Over time the wind and rain take away the ash, and new days come with flowers blooming in their place, but the earth does not forget the blaze that reaped so the new field could sow, and neither does he.
Sometimes, he looks upon the ruins and wishes he could forget, for the pain that throbs at his heart has only dulled with time but never left, and unbearable amounts of sorrow build and even Archon’s could crumble under its weight.
But he made a promise to those finer days, and so he bares the weight with him as he walked among the streets of the Harbor she never got to see.
It was a fine day.
The crowds moved from port to city, and he moved with it, eyes gliding along the shop ways with no interest in buying.
As the shadow of the Jade Chamber cast over him, he gazed up to acknowledge the new additions built since the time he had last walked beneath, and saw the women herself descending on the platform to the ground below.
She was a proud figure against the blue sky, a true symbol of the current age in contrast to the tradition still holding him in place, and in the back of Zhongli’s mind he wondered if the Tsaritsa had received his request for contract yet.
But past the billowing locks of the Tianquan’s hair, a woman stood, eyes sorrowed in thought as she looked over the harbor below, and for the first time in years Zhongli felt frozen by memories.
But not quite a memory, no. It was more as if he was seeing a painting redone by another master’s hands but keeping the same strokes that made the first one so memorable, for she looked different yet held such a resemblance that even just this glimpse made his day feel finer once again.
Hair that was once a dusty blonde now was a hue whiter, pulled back into a bun behind the head and kept in place by a pin adorned with a glaze lily bud, but the same strand of hair that always stood out from the rest still remained.
A resemblance to the Tianquan was undeniable, eyes narrower now but holding the same problem solving spark that had guided him through stress and been the cause of it more than a few times.
Like a sudden plunge into an electro ore vein those eyes were upon him, and in that moment as they gazed at each other – her down past Ningguang’s back, and him up amongst a sea of his people – he wonders if he actually saw a shadow of recognition or if his mind was just being fanciful.
Zhongli caught himself back to reality with a throb from his chest, sending the women a polite smile and bow before turning away.
It was dangerous to let the past bleed into your perception of the now, and that had pierced deeper than anything else had before and his plans swiftly changed to return home, for he needed to recover his thoughts.
Yet to his disbelief, the women sought him out in the crowd once she and her sister parted, catching his eye once again and approaching with a curved warmth on her lips that he knew, because it was the spark that ignited the seed for the very harbor they stood in.
Hand extended, and billowing sleeves rustling in the ocean wind that carried a distinct smell of glaze lily perfume, she introduced herself.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice you earlier. You’re Zhongli, the funeral consultant, yes? I’m Guizhong, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” A pause, and then an addition, eyes sparkling in good humor. “Ah, no relation to the ballista.”