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Venti’s debt at the Angel’s Share was...steep, to put it lightly. Honestly, it would amount to even more if Diluc hadn’t decided that Venti needs to pay it immediately , but it’s whatever. He just needs to demand actual mora instead of wine for his songs, simple as that.
Except Diluc won’t let him perform at Angel’s Share until his debt is paid , so there’s that. Diluc really should be nicer, considering Venti is Mondstat’s Archon.
Mondstat itself was overrun by bards, so the hopes of Venti earning enough mora to pay his Archons-awful tab in his own city were slim. Which left Venti with the decision to either busk until he decided to fall asleep for another millenia or so, or to become a travelling bard. Venti respected Diluc too much to leave his debt unpaid in favour of a nap, so he took to the roads.
But, really, this was Venti , so it’s not like the bard would simply pass up an offer for a bottle or two as payment instead of mora. He didn’t, which is how he found himself almost-drunk more often than not while playing his tunes. And if almost-drunk Venti decided to experiment with other instruments instead of his lyre, well—at least it still brought him income.
So, there Venti was, outside some... Liyuen? bar (he wasn’t exactly sure where he was, but the streets looked like Liyue), playing some (terrible, in his drunken, honest opinion) tune on a flute instead of his usual lyre of choice. Really, Venti couldn’t tell you how many people walked past or what the building behind him looked like, but he was having fun despite the lack of tips. He swore he knew how to play the flute— really , he was an expert and knew every song in Teyvat, promise!—but playing it out of tune was just...the entertaining choice for his stupid, dumb, drunk off his balls brain.
The tips could wait for one night. For one night, Venti allowed himself to play the flute so badly he had to stop to giggle more than once throughout the night. For one night, Venti allowed himself to forget his past and his present, and that was okay with him.
*
There was...a lot of mora in his busking container. What kind soul had pitied Venti in his drunken state the previous night? Honestly, if you ask Venti, it’s kind of laughable. So, yeah, Venti laughs aloud, loud enough to startle the dog he’d fallen asleep on the street next to.
Picking up the container, Venti counts the mora within it. The gasp he lets out post-count is probably audible from inside the bar he’s in front of. The mora that was left for Venti (from his atrocious playing , he feels he must emphasise), is almost enough to pay for half of his Angel’s Share debt . There was no way Venti could accept this, especially for his Archons-awful playing the night before.
The problem was, Liyue is a big place, and Venti could only assume he was in the harbour from his surroundings. And because Liyue is a big (and busy ) place, there was no way Venti would be able to find out who left the money, let alone return it to them.
So, Venti could only add it to his Angel’s Share fund, hoping that the tipper had done it in good faith. Really, everyone in Liyue was too rich. Venti was jealous.
It was whatever. All Venti could do is stand up, dust himself off, gather his belongings, and set off onto a search for a venue willing to let him play during the day that would also attract him customers. The bar could only really serve as a nighttime location, unfortunately.
Really, it couldn’t be that hard, could it?
Turns out, it really wasn’t that hard. He found a nice little—or, well, big ,—inn that allowed him to play his lyre while people ate, even going so far as to pay him for it, plus tips! Venti was going to pay Diluc back faster than Diluc could get used to him being away from Mond.
Well. He would , but the bar he played at the night prior had some good wine, and Venti was a sucker for good wine. If he couldn’t be paid in alcohol, he still had plenty of funds to drink without immediately bankrupting himself. Maybe.
Well, what did it matter? All Venti needed to do was eventually pay his Angel’s Share tab. He can do that later.
*
“Drunk again?”
Venti’s flute playing halted as he looked up at the stranger.
“Again? My, good sir, do you truly believe my playing to be so terrible?” Venti felt like giggling at himself. Just a little bit. He was funny.
The stranger didn’t say anything, merely sighing as he took out a small pouch from his pocket. It jingled, making it obvious as a mora pouch. Maybe Venti’s playing hadn’t been so terrible? The stranger didn’t seem to think so, as he held out the pouch, as if in offer.
“Do I look that much like a beggar?” Venti asked, skeptical of the large amount being so freely given . Venti would never hesitate to gloat about his musical genius, but he was drunk, as the stranger said, and the flute had never been his instrument of choice.
The stranger sighed again, dropping the pouch at Venti’s feet. “Someone playing for fun wouldn’t have set up their hat as a tip jar.” And, yeah, he’s right , and Venti did put his hat down as a makeshift tip jar before he’d started drinking, but. That didn’t mean he had to like that fact. “Please just accept the money.”
And the man standing in front of him just looked so awkward , all but shuffling on his feet with an expression all but screaming just take it so I can leave and go home, thank you. Venti sighed.
“I’ll take it this once, but I will pay you back, mark my words!” he exclaims, pointing a finger at the man. Honestly, he didn’t know how he’d pay the stranger back, but Venti was nothing if not determined...sometimes.
The stranger didn’t look like he believed Venti, which, while warranted, was rude . Maybe Venti wouldn’t pay him back. Out of spite. Not because he had no way of getting enough money to…
Venti was about to thank the stranger for the money, but by the time he looked up from his tip hat, the stranger was gone. Honestly, the audacity . Stranger was lucky he was kind of cute, or Venti would be having words with him!
*
It was two days before Venti saw the stranger again. This time, however, it wasn’t at the bar, or even at night. No, Venti saw the strange man leaning on a railing at the inn he plays at during the day.
Speaking of, Venti really needed to find out Strange Man’s name. He can’t keep calling him Stranger if he was going to keep seeing him (Rich Liyuen Man wasn’t much better, either).
So. He asks. Well, he doesn’t ask Strange Man, because he looks like he’d run the second Venti took a step onto the stairs that lead up to where Stranger was, but still. He decides to ask the owner if she knows. That’s still asking!
Verr Goldet greets him with a smile as he walks up to her desk, a cheery, “what can I do for you today, Venti?”
Honestly, she probably thought he was going to ask for another work related favour. Which wasn’t wrong , necessarily, considering he met Stranger Man while working . It was whatever.
“Good afternoon miss Goldet!” He’d just smile through it. Surely she’d believe he has good intentions..? “I was hoping you’d help me identify someone I believe is a guest here?”
She raises an eyebrow but says nothing, so Venti feels that it’s safe to keep talking.
“He’s...about my height actually. Similar hair colours, too. Ah…he has a big green tattoo on his arm?” Venti giggles nervously, watching as the innkeeper’s face twists into a subtle glare.
“What do you need with Adeptus Xiao?”
Adeptus..? It seemed like Venti needed to have a chat with an old friend…
...Which is how he found himself having tea with Morax—Zhongli, these days,— after he bid farewell to Verr Goldet (who, distantly, he hoped that he didn’t genuinely anger with his probing…) Zhongli looked ever so calm as he sipped his tea and observed Venti.
“So, you are here in an attempt to pay off…a bar tab , correct?” Venti did not want to deal with smug Zhongli. He hated smug Zhongli. Ugh. “And what does that have to do with me?”
“An Adeptus of yours single handedly paid off my bar tab and disappeared.” Zhongli laughed, and Venti groaned, laying his face on the table. “Where did he even get the mora, Mor—Zhongli?”
“My guess is as good as yours,” Zhongli states, matter of fact, and Venti could practically hear him shrug. Damn old man. “If he has given you the mora to cover your tab, why not go back to Mondstat and actually pay it off instead of whining to me?”
Bastard .
Venti huffed, not picking his head up from the table as he flicked a gust of wind towards his old friend. “Why don’t you go to Mondstat and pay it off for me so you have an excuse to ogle Master Diluc, you hopeless, pining bastard.”
Finally, the sound of Zhongli not talking. Venti’s life was good.
Though, he did get a rock to the head. Oh well, consequences of his actions or whatever. Still, though, as payback, Venti would just not listen to Zhongli! Or, well, he would refuse to listen to him, but Venti knew his friend, which meant that he knew Zhongli would just throw pebbles at him until he did listen. So. Venti decided to lift his head to face Zhongli’s ( blushing! ) face.
He could have teased his friend, but, again, rocks . So he listened, for now.
“I still do not see why it is my issue,” Zhongli began, taking a sip from his tea. “I do not control the Adepti’s every move, you know.”
It was Venti’s turn to blush, a barely-there pink dusting his cheeks as he once again groaned and rested his face on the tabletop.
“I just…want to know him Zhongli.” Silence. “He gave me mora and disappeared before I could thank him , Zhongli!” Venti raised his head, shaking his fist at Zhongli as if it was his fault. “I don’t even know why he gave me all the mora! I was drunk playing my flute! ”
Zhongli’s eyebrow raised at the mention of the flute. Of course he knew something. That old man always knew something!
“The flute?” Zhongli asked, as if merely pondering. “Venti, Xiao—” of course he figured out it was Xiao “—has had feelings for you ever since he first heard you playing however many years ago it was. He just wanted to help you out.”
“Eh?” Because, hold on , Xiao had feelings for him? They’d met before? “What do you mean feelings?”
Zhongli only shrugged, so Venti figured it was fair game summoning a gust of wind strong enough to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face.
*
Venti walked up the steps at Wangshu Inn (after apologising to Verr Goldet and explaining himself!) with a plate of almond tofu in hand. According to the traveller—because of course they met Xiao before Venti did!—Xiao was guaranteed to show up if there was almond tofu for him. Oddly enough, they had also mentioned that Xiao would probably show up for Venti even if he didn’t have any, but Venti wasn’t taking chances.
There was no way Xiao had… those feelings for Venti…was there? Venti can’t even remember meeting Xiao!
Well, he’d find out soon.
The stairs gave a small creak as Venti stepped onto the outlook. He was about to call out Xiao’s name, but the Adeptus must have been lurking nearby because before Venti could make a sound, Xiao was already standing in front of him.
Venti could only laugh nervously and hold out the plate in his hands.
Xiao took it without a word. And disappeared. Because that’s how you respond to a gift!
Well, it’s not like it mattered. Venti was the anemo archon, and he could track Xiao down in an instant if he wanted to— and he very much wanted to . So that’s what he did, finding Xiao on the topmost balcony of Wangshu Inn, eating the almond tofu that Venti had offered him.
Venti approached slowly, but he still saw Xiao sigh with slumped shoulders (which is very rude if you ask Venti!). Well, here goes nothing.
“Morax told me we’ve met before.” That’s good, Venti. Start small.
“...You don’t remember?” Shit . Xiao’s back was still facing Venti, and yet the archon could still feel the pain in Xiao’s voice.
“I...don’t, no,” Venti began, trying not to hurt Xiao even more. “But I’d still like to play for you again!”
That got Xiao to turn and face him.
“I want to get to know you, Xiao.” Venti was smiling, holding a hand out to Xiao. “Will you let me?”
Xiao looked from Venti’s face to his hand, shaking his head. “You don’t have to know me. It is enough that I know you , lord Barbatos.”
And, if Venti wasn’t trying to win Xiao over, he would have groaned loud .
“It’s Venti, dear Xiao.” Venti could not miss the blush that formed on Xiao’s face. “And I really want to know you. Is that not good enough?” With his hand still held out, he materialises his lyre, bringing his free hand up towards Xiao in replacement. “Now, will you let me play for you?”
Reaching his hand out towards Venti’s, Xiao nodded.