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"It's a wonderful view from this point on Qingyun Peak."
Venti’s soft voice nearly disappeared in the strong gusts of wind that swept through the mountaintop. Perhaps only his small laugh managed to rise above it, the same laugh Zhongli hadn’t heard in a long time. His laugh, and the sweet aroma of cecilia.
Zhongli turned to the smaller figure, surprised. This wasn’t a place just anyone knew of and certainly not someone who didn’t live in Liyue. Even as Rex Lapis himself had only visited the Dwelling in the Clouds once.
"Barbatos," was all Zhongli could say after a few quiet seconds, getting a little closer to the bard. "I’m not sure Cloud Retainer would think it wise for you to be here."
Indeed, the view was extraordinary. A breathtaking sea of clouds, where only Liyue’s tallest peaks pierced the sky. A place suspended between heaven and earth, where silence fulfilled the purpose for which it had been created.
"Yet you're here too and not as Morax," Venti replied, turning his gaze to the taller man, a knowing smile curving his lips. "So I suppose I'm not the only intruder."
He pulled a worn piece of paper from his sleeve, slightly crumpled, clearly well-traveled, and handed it to Zhongli, who began to study it carefully, recognizing the handwriting at once. When he looked back up, Venti still wore that gentle smile, eyes fixed on some distant point that didn’t truly exist.
"Did you know the wind has a memory too?" Venti said suddenly, his voice softer now, touched with nostalgia. "It’s what brought me here. I just let myself follow it."
Venti paused, eyes drifting over the horizon. "It’s been a long time since I’ve been this far from the ground."
Zhongli said nothing, though he sensed the words weren’t truly meant for him. They were for the wind to carry away, like a memory better left untouched.
"Cloud Retainer will appreciate it. I’ll let her know you returned the writing." Zhongli tucked the paper among a small stack of books before sitting down beside the Anemo Archon.
"Wow, I thought it was a note from you, your official resignation from all things worldly. My mistake," Venti teased, feigning disappointment before breaking into a cheerful laugh. "Although that final ‘heh’ definitely didn’t sound like your style."
"Since you’re here," Zhongli said, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "why not play something?"
Venti sprang to his feet with a grin, summoning his lyre in a soft flash of light. He ran his fingers lightly across the strings, adjusting the tension with care.
"Alright, alright," he said brightly. "But just so you know, my performances aren’t free. Standard rate is three bottles of wine per song, minimum. And if you like it, I gladly accept apples as tips. Hehe.”