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During the day it is usually hard to get a hold of Guizhong. The God of Dust seems to never run out of things to do, whether it’s gathering crafting materials, climbing Mt. Aocang to discuss construction blueprints with Cloud Retainer, or simply walking among their people and aiding them in small tasks, something the Lord of Geo still finds rather bizarre. Surely humans can tend to their own daily needs, as long as their protection and safety are ensured by the gods? He doesn’t understand why Guizhong insists on stooping to their level to partake in their activities and customs. But then again, her ways have always been different than his, ever since they first met. One would think after countless years of watching over mortal beings a god would tire of their presence and withdraw from their short, repetitive lives, but she does not.
Something about the way her eyes shine when she returns to their abode after a long day spent in the village stops him from questioning her further, but she must be aware of his confusion nonetheless, judging by the amused and often challenging glances she casts in his direction. It feels as though she silently dares him to raise the question, to confront her, but he respects her far too much to doubt her authority and experience. He just can’t help but feel like there’s something escaping his attention, some bigger secret he’s missing out on. Guizhong’s proud smile and the warmth present in her eyes whenever he catches her staring at the humans down below make something shift in his chest. He doesn’t quite like the feeling, but he doesn’t wholly dismiss it, curious as to its origin. Perhaps he envies the connection she has with them. Perhaps he wishes he, too, would understand what is so special about their mortal lives and fragile creations.
The sun is nearly hidden behind the Qingyun Peak and at this point he has polished the blade of his polearm more times than he can count, so with a sigh he gets up and decides to look for Guizhong. It’s not that he has nothing to do, he could always go check up on the other adepti or patrol the borders just in case there’s an enemy he missed when he last flew above the Guili Plains (there is much that can change in three hours), but he finds himself longing specifically for her company and a part of him is curious to see what she’s been up to. Perhaps at this time of the day she’s no longer busying herself with human affairs, but instead working on the ballista or designing something entirely new.
He can’t say he remembers all the technical aspects of her projects, but he always listens, even if only to bask in the joy and excitement emanating from Guizhong when she talks about her work. The way her eyes light up when she rambles about engineering or some latest breakthrough she made is always a precious sight and he wonders whether his end of their arrangement holds similar value to her. He can’t quite imagine her watching him in the midst of a bloody battle with the same reverence he has for her when she bends the fruits of earth to her will, creating intricate designs beyond his imagination. His brute strength and combat skills are definitely a useful asset to the Guili Assembly, but there is nothing beautiful about them. Their people worship him as well, but it is Guizhong who truly shapes their lives. His job is mostly being a weapon by her side.
Not that he minds. Walking alongside her has given his divine existence a bigger purpose, even if it’s one he doesn’t yet understand. Guizhong, with her infinite wisdom and patience, seems to have all the answers. It is simply a matter of time that he finds them as well. Solving the puzzle she presented him with when they first met would be a good place to start.
He lets the golden dumbbell float above his hand for a while, lost in thought, and then closes his fist and leaves the abode. He briefly considers slipping into the dragon form for easier travel, but he doesn’t want to attract human attention if his wish is to descend to the village and look for Guizhong. If she’s still down there, socialising with their people, she definitely assumed one of her preferred human forms and would frown at him for blowing her cover. He can almost hear her scolding voice in his ear. “Come on, Zhongli! Haven’t I told you before that if you wish to follow me around in the village you need to look as non-threatening as possible? Maybe your war generals appreciate the sight of your dragon form, but you just made a child cry by randomly appearing behind her with your horns on full display! What were you thinking?”
He smiles at the memory, even though that day his heart ached at the thought of letting Guizhong down. He has learned a lot since then, and now he knows inspiring terror isn’t always beneficial, though he still has to make a conscious effort to tame some of his old habits.
He first visits Mt. Tianheng, where the ballista is located, but he doesn’t find her there. Some of the blueprints lay scattered on the ground among other tools, and he regards them with fondness. He knows better than to touch them. Guizhong has a particular habit of leaving a mess only she understands, and there is always a method to the madness in her workplace. The last time he tried to assist her by cleaning up her notes, she had to sit him down the next morning and gently (but firmly) ask him to never, ever do that again. He really fails to understand how she can make anything of the seemingly random and chaotic order of the crafting materials and blueprints she leaves in her trail, but respecting that wish is something he can do. At this point he accepts that some things stay between her and Cloud Retainer and if he tries to help, he will only get in the way.
Speaking of the adeptus, he wonders whether Guizhong is visiting her abode. He tries to convince himself the reason he heads to Mt. Aocang next is not because he’s dreading going to the human village, but because he genuinely thinks it’s more likely she is dining with Cloud Retainer. It’s not even that he dislikes being among humans, it’s just odd without Guizhong by his side. He still struggles to make small talk and appear friendly towards mortals, and without Guizhong tugging at his sleeve and guiding him through the maze of human social etiquette he often finds himself feeling awkward and out of place. It’s much easier when his only job is giving practical orders in battle. Pretending to be human always… takes a toll on him and he doubts he will ever enjoy the experience or willingly subject himself to it.
“Guizhong is not here,” says Cloud Retainer at the first sight of him, and Zhongli fights the impulse to look away in embarrassment. Is the reason for his visit really this predictable? Nevertheless, he is the Lord of Geo, one of the adepti, a god far more powerful than any deity in this land. He has no reason to feel any shame, so he merely says: “I see. Thank you” and moves along, trying not to think much of the odd feeling settling in his chest. Cloud Retainer watches him go, her expression unreadable (but then again, she’s a crane, so it is to be expected).
That means Guizhong is still among humans and if he wishes to see her before she returns home after nightfall, he needs to make his way to the village and look for her. With a swift move of his hand, he changes his dress attire to match the clothing worn by locals, conceals the Geo markings on his body and heads towards the Guili Plains.
There are many places where mortals can catch sight of the God of Dust, though unaware of her true identity. Guizhong uses multiple human faces to navigate the mortal world. Sometimes Zhongli wonders if all this isn’t just some elaborate plot to give her an excuse to play dress-up. He has seen her disguised as countless humans throughout the years they’ve ruled over the land together. A foreign blacksmith forging weapons no one in the village has heard of, a talkative tradesman sharing the wisdom he brought from faraway lands, a young woman with round cheeks flushed from laughter, asking the village women to teach her folk dances at a summer festival. Sometimes she simply picks flowers in the fields and offers them to strangers in exchange for a story. No matter the identity or face she assumes, Zhongli always knows if it’s her. Not because of her divinity, for she isn’t a powerful god and she’s capable of suppressing her aura quite well. The warm glow in her eyes betraying her kindness and infinite wisdom, the particular way she throws her head back and laughs at ridiculous local stories, the way she always carries herself with dignity, but doesn’t think herself above interacting with the common folk and eagerly gets involved in their affairs, the way the air around her always carries the faint scent of glaze lilies. The way every time their eyes meet, he’s the one who has to look away first, unable to match the open warmth of her gaze. All these things combined never fail to reveal her true identity to him.
For that reason, he crosses the bridge to the human village without a single doubt he will find her. Wherever bright laughter and honest work are, there she will be.
He wanders through the streets for a while, passes by the marketplace where people are preparing to close the shops for the night, and barely avoids colliding with a group of children running straight into him. They continue laughing, one of them blurts out something that resembles “sorry”, and then they’re gone. He almost finds it amusing that none of them had the faintest idea who they just ran into. Is that one of the reasons Guizhong enjoys posing as a human so much? Perhaps she finds it funny, too. He needs to ask her.
Rounding the corner, he notices a tavern sign and is greeted by the smell of fresh food. The cheerful voices of people chatting and singing inside invite him to come closer, but he hesitates. The moment he enters, all the eyes will be on him, a stranger. He hasn’t been to the village enough times to establish a consistent cover identity, he can’t say he ever particularly cared for that, always allowing Guizhong to introduce him however she wanted, so if the people at the tavern are all locals familiar with each other, they will most likely question him or even regard him with suspicion. It’s not that he would struggle with lying about who he is, worst case scenario he can deceive them or make himself invisible, he is a god after all, but the perspective of human socialisation still makes him hesitate. Finally, cursing his own weakness, he enters the tavern and braces himself for scrutiny.
It never comes. No one pays him any mind. The tavern is filled to the brim with red-faced, laughing villagers, judging by the look of it, in varying stages of inebriation. There’s instrumental music and laughter, a couple of women attempt to dance to some complex choreography involving fans, but they are clearly too drunk to perform it accurately. It doesn’t seem to bother them in the slightest. Several men and women surround a musician plucking the strings of a long-necked lute and playing a folk song that must be a local favourite. He can’t say he knows the words, but it sounds vaguely familiar. The atmosphere is so warm and welcoming that he briefly wonders if it’s the same spirit Barbatos always talks about when he praises the hospitality of his own people. He supposes each region has its own traditions, but some forms of entertainment are universal.
Zhongli doesn’t know the cause for this celebration, it’s possibly something to do with the harvest or some other date he didn’t bother to memorise as the local customs tend to change faster than he can keep up with it. After all, his job is protecting the people from outside danger, not partaking in their silly little traditions. Guizhong would definitely lecture him if he said that to her face, though.
He generally isn’t the biggest fan of crowds, but the fact no one pays any attention to him and accepts his presence without a word does fill him with a sense of inner peace. He could easily blend in among these people, sit down, order a drink, and no one would suspect he’s not human. He could let himself take a break for a while.
He actually considers sitting down near the musician and maybe attempting to catch more of the words to their song, but as he eyes the inside of the tavern and the rest of the lively crowd in it, he spots the one he’s been looking for.
A young man with long, dark hair, a charming smile and a small lily tucked behind his ear is whispering something to one of the dancers, possibly praising her (inaccurate, but still rather endearing) performance. There’s a small gathering of young people around them, all of them laughing and drinking, some apparently absorbed by a board game. Zhongli would pay them all no special attention if it wasn’t for the way the young man’s eyes shine with pride as he watches the people around him, as if he truly loves every single person in the room. Something the girl says makes him chuckle, and the sound of his voice reaches Zhongli above the noise of the tavern, as if the melody of that laughter was intended for him only. It’s Guizhong.
He should walk up to them, make his presence known, but he’s frozen in place, watching. He suspects Guizhong will notice him soon, even though he is concealing his divine aura as well, because she seems to be attuned to him the same way he is to her. But for now, he simply watches.
He has seen Guizhong among humans countless times, it shouldn’t come as a surprise how happy they make her. Still, something about the way she laughs with no restraint, the way her companions trust her and are subconsciously drawn to her, it all makes him feel like an intruder.
Are his fate and sole purpose as a god only to watch humans, never to be a part of their happiness? It never seemed to bother him before. He existed as a ruthless god of war, a soldier, a destructive force meant to keep more vulnerable beings safe and rule over them in return, but nothing more than that. He defended them, and then left them to their own devices and allowed them to worship him from a distance, never attempting to bridge the gap. Meeting Guizhong changed his perspective and made him yearn for companionship and connection, but it has never felt this bitter.
The dancer glances at Guizhong, quickly moves in to peck them on the lips, and then hides her face behind the fan, as the rest of the group laughs. Guizhong laughs with them, no sign of embarrassment on their face.
Something in Zhongli’s chest aches in a way he has never experienced before.
What is he to Guizhong, exactly? A bodyguard? A war machine, similar to her ballistas? A means to ensure the safety of her people? He was the one who insisted on their arrangement being a written contract with terms and conditions back when they first met and he believed himself unable to truly connect with another, let alone an adeptus that physically weak. Did the God of Contracts break one of his own rules, somewhere along the way?
This was always about their people. About protecting them from war and death, and about sharing resources and knowledge. It wasn’t personal. As much as Guizhong always insists on calling him her dear friend, who is he to her, outside of his power to protect her and their land? Who is he to his own people, if he cannot even walk among them and understand them the way she can? Is bloodshed really the only thing he is meant for, as a god?
He doesn’t expect all these thoughts and feelings to come flooding at the sight of Guizhong in the tavern. I have always known the terms and conditions of our contract , he tries to reassure himself, but to no avail. He can’t understand why his heart aches and why something akin to regret seems to well in him. Nothing has changed, has it? This is exactly the way we intended our alliance to work. I don’t belong down here, nor will I ever understand them the way she can.
Or understand her the way they can.
He doesn’t realise when he leaves the tavern, but suddenly he’s sitting on the side of a hill, fingers tangled in long grass. The sun has already set, and he knows it’s the time he normally associates with Guizhong returning home. Somehow, now the thought stings. He watches the slowly emerging moon and tries to understand what just occurred, but he is clueless. In the thousands of years he has been alive, he has never felt this vulnerable and exposed. No battlefield wound has ever pierced him this deep. And at least those bled, so he knew the cause. But now?
A pair of hands covers his eyes, and he starts with a sharp inhale, a shining polearm materialising in his open hand before he realises it’s just Guizhong.
“I was beyond surprised to see you at the tavern, did you really miss me that much, or has something happened?” she teases, but he hears real concern in her voice. Understandably so, considering the last time he interrupted her bonding time with humans, it was on the day he found Xiao.
He doesn’t turn to look at her, but it doesn’t discourage her from sitting down next to him, her long billowing sleeves pooling on the grass around her. He can smell the glaze lilies and sense her presence again, and even without looking he can tell she changed back into the form she enjoys the most. She’s sitting so close their arms nearly touch and the breeze tangles their long hair. He decides he can’t stand it, but makes no move to pull away.
“Zhongli,” she speaks again, and he knows there’s no way to avoid her. “What happened? Is anyone hurt? Is Xiao-”
“Xiao is fine, it’s not about him. Do not concern yourself, everyone is unharmed.”
He wishes his voice sounded normal. He thinks it does, but by the way Guizhong leans into him more he can tell he’s making her worry.
“What about you?” she asks quietly, and the gentleness of her voice feels like a knife to his throat. “Did anything happen… in battle? If you need any medical assistance, I can-”
“Guizhong, I’m not wounded. Everyone is safe. It's simply a misunderstanding making you assume the worst. Nothing of much significance happened today, besides Ganyu trying to learn how to cook matsutake meat rolls.”
He hopes the last remark will help him steer the conversation in a different direction and let him save his face, but Guizhong is way too insistent whenever he’s concerned. It’s like a curse, at times.
“That is lovely, but don’t change the subject. Something made you seek me out, and I of all people know how much you avoid casual contact with humans if you can help it.”
She puts a hand on his shoulder, and he has no choice but to look at her. Her eyes hold so much concern and affection he immediately wants to look away, but she cups his cheek, not allowing him to hide, the way she often does.
“My love… You know you can tell me anything, right? Our arrangement will not work if one of us keeps secrets, and we have done such a good job until now.”
She calls him that sometimes, but she says it to everyone. He has seen her embrace, kiss and comfort countless humans throughout the years, participating in their lives and putting no space between them. He knows better than to think much of her endearments, this is just the way she is. It has never bothered him before, has it?
He finds no answer to that question.
“It’s nothing, Guizhong.” he tries to shrug it off. “I simply found myself lacking anything to do after patrolling the borders, so I decided to find you. We both work so much I hardly see you these days.” He immediately regrets adding the last part, but Guizhong just smiles at him sadly.
“I know, and it is a pity. If only you didn’t mind visiting the village with me-”
Something in him snaps at that.
“This is precisely why I should not visit the village.” He has never raised his voice at Guizhong, he doesn’t think he would ever dare to. But his words are cold.
She lets go of his face with a puzzled expression.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
If he had the taste for human profanity, now would be a good time to use one of the colourful curses she tried to teach him and direct it at himself.
He’s silent and watches the clouds in the distance, avoiding an answer. Guizhong doesn’t stop there.
“I have been working day and night helping our people prepare for the festival. Everyone worked themselves to the bone. I was about to say my goodbyes and return home, when I sensed your presence and saw you exit the tavern in a hurry. I assumed the worst. I really do not need to remind you what happened the last time you came running to me with an emergency. How am I supposed to know what is going on if you don’t tell me? Or is my companionship not good enough for you anymore?”
She pauses, and grips her sleeves.
“Zhongli, if you are displeased with our contract-”
“No.” He stops her.
“Then talk to me,” she asks, and something about the desperation in her voice makes him decide to risk it all.
He wishes he could turn into a dragon for the duration of this conversation, but it wouldn’t do, so he simply says: “I apologise. My actions must have confused you.”
“They sure have.”
“They have confused me as well. Forgive me.”
She sighs, and he feels the weight of her head rest on his shoulder. He doesn’t move.
“It’s already forgiven. Just tell me, what made you seek me out and then storm off without a word?”
He swallows, suddenly envying the rocks at their feet. No one expects cor lapis to answer difficult questions.
“Seeing you there, among humans… It’s not a rare sight, by any means. It simply… How do I say it,” he stumbles. Guizhong offers him an encouraging half-smile, and he finds himself longing to mirror it with his own. He doesn’t.
“Just tell me.”
“...The sight made me question my own ability to connect with our people the way you can. We have been allies for centuries, Guizhong, and I am still as inept as I was the day we met.”
“That’s hardly true and you know it.”
Zhongli sighs.
“You love them and care for them the way I never could. I did not even think myself capable of holding affection for anything at all, not until… What is my role in all this, Guizhong? Am I just-”
“...”
“Am I just a convenient ally to you? I don’t think I will ever be able to understand them, or understand you. What’s the point of trying to convince ourselves otherwise? I never should have come here at all. It is your place, not mine. It is better for everyone if I am simply feared and worshipped from a distance, the way it has always been. I am sorry to disappoint.” The words suddenly come flooding from his mouth, and he can’t stop them, but the shame burning in his throat makes his voice nearly inaudible. He has never exposed himself like this. This was never a part of their contract. A mutual exchange of their strengths and experiences. Her brains and his brawns. But no further attachment involved. Gods did not make friends. Gods did not-
“Is this truly how you feel?” Guizhong’s voice is quiet, but clear, and he fears meeting her eyes and examining her expression. He may have just ruined their perfect arrangement with an outburst he still does not understand. What must she be thinking?
“Zhongli. Look at me.”
He couldn’t deny her anything since the day they met, so he lifts his head and hesitantly looks at her.
Guizhong’s face is dead serious, and it may be one of the few times he has seen her not smiling. He dislikes the sight.
“Zhongli… Have you forgotten I was the one who insisted on us being friends? The contract was your idea, but you have walked by my side for thousands of moons and I find myself still longing for your company. The concern for our people is what brought us together, that is true, but it has long since become more than that. You can’t seriously doubt the affection and respect I hold for you...? Or have I really been so unkind…?”
Guizhong and unkind are two words that should never exist next to each other in any sentence, of that Zhongli is certain. Still, his eyes widen at her serious words. This isn’t the cheerful and teasing goddess he knows. She seems desperate to convince him. Tense. She is still gripping the fabric of her sleeves so tightly her knuckles are white. Almost as though she is nervous about something herself. He can’t fully grasp what is happening, but the relief and gratitude filling him at her words are immeasurable.
“I apologise,” he says again, dropping his head. “It was never my intention to imply you have been anything but kind. I was simply… forced to confront the inescapable aspects of my own nature.”
“Zhongli, stop apologising for having feelings. As I told you centuries ago when we first met, your shortcoming is your dismissal of human feelings, of the unpredictable and passionate nature of their hearts. But not only humans have those.”
He blinks at her. “I do not recall you saying that last part back then.”
Guizhong offers him a bittersweet smile. “You are not the only one who has changed since that day. There have been certain new circumstances I was forced to consider.”
She moves even closer, and her hair tickles his neck. It’s closer than she was to the woman at the tavern, closer than she’s ever been to him, and he doesn’t know why he’s even comparing it to anything in his mind. He can’t move, and wonders briefly if his prayers have been answered and he truly transformed into stone. But her breath on his cheek feels warm, and it reminds him he is alive, after all.
“Zhongli. You are not a tool at my disposal. You are not just your strength, or your battle genius, as glorious as your victories may be. It is true that when we met, we formed an alliance out of necessity and convenience, but you are not simply my ally. You haven’t been for more years than I can count, and I’ll have you remember my memory is quite good.”
Her hand slips into his, and he is quite certain he stopped breathing.
“You are my most treasured friend and the other half of my soul, and I never believed in fate, but I think it was fate that made us meet that day and join forces. Our land and our people would not exist without our combined efforts. I would not still be here today if I didn’t have you at my side all these years, and should anything happen to you, I doubt I’d be alive for much longer. You have changed in ways you don’t give yourself enough credit for. I have seen it. And I am beyond happy to walk the rest of this path with you. You truly are my strength, Zhongli, but not just in the ways you think yourself to be. Our people need you. But first and foremost, I need you by my side, for I love and cherish you more than the land that brought us together.” She smiles. “Don’t tell our people I ever said that, though.”
He is stunned into silence.
“I never said anything, because you seemed uncomfortable with human displays of emotion. Every time I called you love, you changed the subject.”
Silence.
“Zhongli? Say something, or I’ll assume I made a fool out of myself.”
He finds no words though, so he simply turns towards her and hides his face in the fabric of her sleeve. She laughs softly, and a moment later her arms are around him, and he wonders how it’s possible they have never embraced until now.
“My silly dragon,” she teases, but he can hear the naked affection in her voice, so different from the divine love she offers to others, and he only clings to her tighter.
He’s very glad the hill he chose to sulk on was far away from the adepti abode, because being caught weeping in the arms of his first and only love by any of their allies would damage his fearful reputation beyond repair. Not that he doesn’t want the world to know he would offer all of it at Guizhong’s feet. Maybe he just wants some more time to sort out his feelings before displaying them around anyone else.
Guizhong’s fingers are in his hair, slowly caressing it, and he remembers every time he braided her hair, trying not to linger for too long. He also remembers the looks Cloud Retainer shot him every time it happened in her presence.
Perhaps he has been less discreet than he thought for a while now.
“One thing still bothers me, though,” Guizhong speaks, and he lifts his head to look at her. The corners of her lips are raised in a sweet smile, and knowing it’s intended for his eyes only fills him with warmth he finally has a name for.
“What is it?” he asks, still not leaving her arms. He doesn’t think he ever wants to. They have at least seven hundred years to make up for, if not more.
“What was the reason you got so upset back there at the tavern?” He winces at the wording. He wasn’t upset. Merely… Caught off guard by an unpleasant, unfamiliar sensation.
“You were mingling with the humans in ways I could not see myself ever capable of,” he confesses, because there are no more secrets to keep.
She hums at that, thinking for a moment. He takes a long look at her. The glaze lily in her hair is threatening to slip out, so he raises a hand to put it back in place. Guizhong rewards him with a warm smile, and he feels like he’s melting.
“Was it about the singing? Or the dance? I’m pretty sure you’d find yourself capable of both, if you only gave it a chance. I could teach you! It’s quite easy for us,” she offers, but by the look on his face she knows it’s not about that.
She pulls him even closer, and they shift until his head rests in her lap and she’s looking down at him, her hand slowly caressing his cheek. He knows he should feel embarrassed about this turn of events, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when everything feels right.
“Alright Zhongli, you have me at a loss here. We played a board game earlier but you definitely have done that with us before. Remember, we even played with Xiao and Ganyu once. I find it hard to believe you’d forget the way he threatened to flip the board after he lost to her four times in a row.” He finds himself smiling at the memory, and her own smile widens as well. “Ha! Of course you remember.”
He tries to analyse his feelings and put a finger on the moment something inside him snapped, but it had been building up for a long time so he doubts there was any catalyst. Unless-
“Oh, wait. Was it about the girl who kissed me? Have you never kissed a human before?”
He freezes, because embarrassingly enough, she’s right, but also wrong at the same time. The emotion must show on his face, or Guizhong is just good at reading him, because she smirks.
“Was all of this over that little kiss? Come now, Zhongli, I never took you for the jealous type. Or maybe… Hmm, either way you only have yourself to blame for this one.”
He makes a confused face and she laughs, her fingers still stroking his cheek.
“My love, you were the one who always rejected human customs and told me time after time you didn’t understand the need for their sentimental gestures. It was only natural for me to assume the human need for physical intimacy was among the things you didn’t care for. And I couldn’t judge you by my own standards, because we both know how different we are. So…”
To Zhongli’s disbelief and delight, Guizhong goes a little pink at that.
“... All I’m saying is, I am not opposed. Never was. To kissing you, I mean.”
“Guizhong-”
“Or showing other human activities to you.”
“Gui-”
“You would not believe how creative they get with the-”
He interrupts her by pulling her down to meet his lips and they miss spectacularly, but the goal is accomplished and he never hears the end of that godforsaken sentence.
Guizhong laughs, her lips tickling his cheek, and he never wants to hear another sound again. She guides them into their second kiss, and the third, and continues kissing him until they both lose count.