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Recollect and Repose
A Seelie's Treasure: Papilio Charontis
As morbid as it might have seemed, Hu Tao had an exceedingly long and detailed memory of every patron during her tenure as director. Countenances ranged from despondent, reticent, vengeful, resigned, confused, old, and young — though all with the same goal.
To see to the welfare of their loved ones, so that their journey into the afterlife was peaceful.
Yet, as often as she’d bore witness to children in the parlor, rarely were they comfortable. Ignorant, yes. Death wasn’t a subject broached in a child’s upbringing until the inevitable crossed their path. Questioned, curious, and gentle - parents tried to explain the cyclical nature of life while not instilling fear. If anyone asked her, it would have been better to learn from the beginning that all things must die.
But not every child in Liyue Harbor would inherit the title of funeral director or exorcist. They would only brush with death should it happen to another or themselves. Not a daily occurrence, nothing to tarry with. And thus, it came as a shock when someone who had always been there - whether out of their periphery or in their vicinity no longer was.
A surprise.
Did that make her cold for thinking otherwise? For expecting, preparing, and shouldering off the burden of mortality to experience life’s wonders? No, perhaps it made her an outlier. Certainly an anomaly among her peers but —
“Master Hu, are you listening?”
Hu Tao pressed her cheek against her propped up fist, acknowledging with a practiced hum. He could go on for hours when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Which, to be fair, at times her mind did tend to wander. Like now.
“Question, Consultant Zhongli.”
The flat stare she received was expected, as was the quiet yet strained, “Yes?”
Balancing her chin atop curled knuckles, Hu Tao flicked her index finger across the desk and asked, “Whose child is this?”
After a few seconds had passed with Zhongli’s golden gaze, darkened with disapproval, something akin to recognition flickered in his eyes. “Ah,” he sighed as he stared down at the infant swaddled in a sling across his chest. How a man who wore a three-piece suit could seem so casual with a baby sling, Hu Tao would never know. But Zhongli only seemed mildly concerned with fussing over the dozing child’s blanket as if this was a common occurrence. Oh archons, was he really walking around like this without a care in the world?
“Yes, I suppose introductions would be needed.”
Hu Tao stared at the baby then shot Zhongli a look. “Am I not paying you enough?”
“What?” He asked, recoiling slightly in his chair with a rare taken aback look. “The discussed upon salary is quite fine, Master Hu, now —“
“Because no offense, consultant, but babysitting can be quite a task and kids soak up habits like a hydro slime,” Hu Tao barely batted an eye at the withering stare he gave her. “I would just want this kid to actually be a kid rather than a walking almanac.”
Zhongli stared at her for awhile longer, a blank expression Hu Tao was quite familiar with. Seldom it came when she’d said something that touched beneath the consultant’s unshakable outer layer. Often did she tease that he was made of stone himself but beneath it beat the heart of a man. Unless he was also a zombie, which in case..
Hu Tao startled when a soft chirping broke the silence. “… What was that?”
They both looked down at the child whose lips parted for the first time that evening in a wide yawn. Three abnormally sharp milk teeth poked out from pink gums, and Hu Tao could have sworn she saw a faint sheen on the apple of those round cheeks. Tiny, balled fists wiggled free from beneath the blanket and hid the shine as they rubbed against the sides of the infant’s face. Though, those nails were sharp—
“Master Hu, you’re going to knock over your drink.”
Catching the tea cup as it began to tip over dangerously, Hu Tao sank back into her chair with a soft grumbled thanks. Casting another glance at the strange child who’d returned to dozing with their head of wispy dark hair turned toward Zhongli’s stomach. Pecularily sharp nails hidden beneath the blanket as Zhongli tugged it up over their shoulders.
“So, you were saying an introduction…?”
At this, Zhongli nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Master Hu, this is my son.”
Hu Tao slowly dragged her eyes toward the sleeping infant then back to the man who stares at her openly. Returning the look a few times before she tips her head back and laughs. Quietly, that is, because there is a sleeping child - but she would be hard pressed to believe it was his. Who walked into a funeral parlor with a sleeping child, going to work no less, and holding a meeting?
But also Zhongli, a father, preposterous!
Objectively speaking, she'd heard from many a woman how handsome the consultant was but no one could keep up with him in a conversation and he was quite elusive. Not to mention, Hu Tao doubted he would be the type to woo a woman then leave her out of the public eye. Or abandon her until he had no choice but to care for the result of a night's passions.
A shiver ran down her spine. Thinking of such things in respects to Zhongli was chillingly disgusting.
No, he was far too straight-laced, uptight, and dutiful.
To the credit of his charade, Zhongli stared at her in silence with the straightest face she’d ever seen him wear. Her giggling regaining its fervor once more as she shook her head, gulping down her disgust at the thought of him doing that. “Really, consultant, you’re more of a grandfather than a father.”
Something in her shrivels at the thought and she wondered if he noticed because his eyes soften like soil after a sudden rain shower. Then in a softer voice, he said, “Then perhaps I am overqualified for the position but he deserves a father and that is what I am.”
Hu Tao swallowed hard, focus shifting between the two until she rose from her chair and walked over to inspect the child from a side view. Zhongli only rolled back his shoulders then angled his body to present the slumbering infant’s cherubic face. What she thought was wisps of dark hair was actually tufts sprouting from the child’s scalp like a tiny flame. Dark eyelashes fluttered over rippling eyelids as the baby shifted in his sleep.
He was so small. Was she that small all those years ago? What did her own grandfather think of her when he saw her then? Did he have hopes for her to become one way or another? Taking on his name, did he know that with his last impression she would miss him? Would he have carried her in the same way Zhongli carried his own child. Fussing over blankets, smiling tenderly, carrying out his tasks as director and parent?
Her mouth felt dry, voice crackling and faltering as she tried to ask, “How..?”
How did he do this? The whole time he'd been talking to her about the vibrancy of noctilucous jade, richness of silk flowers near Dihua Marsh, and potentials of cutting costs -
Dear Rex Lapis, cutting costs?!
Zhongli, of all people, drained the parlor's coffers dry but now he was talking about expenditures and budgets as if it were commonplace. She had great faith in his knowledge but his financial capabilities were something to question. Peering down at the child's face, she wondered when Zhongli changed. Was it when he was born? How old could he have been? Three months, four, perhaps six? He seemed healthy too, with a pink flush to his rounded cheeks.
Zhongli glanced at her, scanning her over a few times. “Do you not know how children are born, Master Hu?”
“W—“ She scoffed, hands firmly planted on her hips. “Of course I do, and I do not want a lecture about that from you.”
She hated how nonchalant his shrug was and how he bounced the stirring child lightly, staring down at him with a tenderness Hu Tao hadn’t seen in so long. Was it ever there? Her grandfather could be a little stern, almost like Zhongli—
“If you must know, he w-“ Zhongli lifted his head, then fell silent. Which was strange because he was never this silent or wore an expression that concerned. And when he muttered, “Master Hu”, in a voice so heartrendingly tender yet concerned - she knew something was wrong.
Because no one looked at her that way. Not in a long time. Not since him. Even her distant family members regarded her with some level of ambivalence, believing she was ready to take her grandfather's place. As if losing him was expected - something to bypass - nothing to bat an eye at.
And ah, why did her face feel so warm?
Quickly, Hu Tao pulled back and rolled on her heel, hands thrown up in a mock gesture of surrender. “Well, I don’t need to know how your fatherly duties began so long as you can still uphold your position and—“
“Would you like to hold him?”
She couldn’t form a response to that, smile dissipating as her mouth fell open. “Huh..?”
Without waiting for a proper response, Zhongli tucked his arms beneath his son - Archons, how odd was that to think of. Lifting him gently out of the sling with his arm tucked beneath his head and neck to support and the boy lolling to one side, still caught in the throes of sleep.
Not aware that his father was going to lay him in the hands of someone who dealt with death and practically carried ghosts beneath her skin. Hu Tao shuddered, bringing to mind several reasons why Zhongli shouldn’t do this and one being that the Millelith would be disappointed in him for thinking it a good idea.
But he approached with sincerity and trust, helping position the boy in Hu Tao’s tense arms. If she dropped this child then that would be the end of so many things. Life, a connection to her grandfather, what little good standing she had, morality itself be damned and—
“Calm yourself, Master Hu,” a warm hand settled on her shoulder and Hu Tao sucked in a breath when the boy stirred. “If you’re nervous, he will be able to tell.”
Oh, well wasn’t that just great? A part of her wanted to ask how. As sharp-witted as Zhongli was, surely he couldn't have passed on that ability to see through a disguise to a child. Though, Hu Tao couldn't be too sure and she must not have loosened up any because Zhongli’s hand hovered at the back of his son’s head, coincidentally hovering against Hu Tao’s elbow. Warmth radiating from a sturdy palm, keeping both her and the child aloft.
“You are doing fine.”
Her throat felt scratchy, tongue thickened by the praise and all she could muster was a nod. Transfixed on the small being nestled so closely to her chest - alive, breathing, sleeping but not for long - he would wake and do…
By the Seven, what did babies do half the time?
Helplessly, she looked up to Zhongli only to find the corner of his lips tipped upward ever so slightly. As close to smugness as he could get - she’d noticed over the years. “… What's his…”
Zhongli raised a brow, then he hummed understandingly. Pride in his eyes with a touch of sadness as if he were thinking of matters far off, but close at hand. Gazing down at this child as if he were everything that mattered in the world. “.. Guiquan.”
Almost as if roused from the realm of sleep by his name, the boy’s eyes fluttered open with another yawn that revealed those too sharp teeth. Dark eyelashes dusting skin that seemed a bit too soft and out of place but squished beneath Hu Tao’s poking. An odd child who stared up at her with pale, almost translucent irises that upon closer inspection were definitely seeing.
“… Are those..” Hu Tao thumbed away a few strands curling atop his forehead, one raised bump on either side of his forehead rolled beneath her thumb. Slowly, she looked up to Zhongli who stared back at her patiently, arching a brow while seeming to wait for something.
“Are you…?”
“Naturally.”
“What do you mean, naturally, what the f—“
Zhongli shot Hu Tao a firm look, and she could have sworn the floors trembled beneath her feet. Guiquan, blinked up at her then gave another gaping yawn, wholly unbothered. Right, a child.
An archon masquerading as a man, a child who was most certainly not human, and a girl touched by death — if she remembered nothing else then Hu Tao would certainly remember this.
But she had to ask.
"What would make you want to bring your son to a business meeting?"
"He likes the sound of my voice."
Of course.