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Death was not an unfamiliar topic to Hu Tao. The 77th Funeral Director of the famed Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has had plenty of experience with it, and she has no haste in expressing her passion in the matter to anyone who would listen (and to those who wouldn’t, as well – but Hu Tao thinks it’s better that everyone at least hear out what she has to say.)
One would not think of the negative implications of death with how jovial Hu Tao is regarding the matter. The numerous times she’d approach Liyue locals unseen, only to pop out and present a coupon – 50% off on burial procedures, valid for the next seven days – coupons she herself had written out and prepared, only to have the locals either be scared off, or to question her with a mildly miffed “I’m sorry, what is the meaning of this?”
Of course, the pranks. All kinds of silly antics are about as essential to Hu Tao’s repertoire as death is to the natural passage of time. Quite the comparison, Hu Tao would think to herself. They were just one-off things, most of the time creeping up on them and giving them a little fright, is all.
Maybe she’s earned the ire of some people, but she doesn’t mind. Eventually they would come to realize that life is far too fleeting, and they would eventually look at the, say, burnt chicken she had served them as a fond memory. Proof that even in the in these moments of inconvenience, there was something worth remembering.
She would know, because every now and then, within the tears of those who come to avail of Wangsheng’s services for their deceased, lay the revelation that these same people didn’t exactly despise her antics.
“I think my son mentioned you served him burnt chicken, but he found it amusing.” they would say.
“I’m glad you’ve given my child something to remember.”
That’s how it usually goes, really.
Most of the time, she really does keeps things lighthearted. She’d like to think she was frank, but not too philosophical or overbearing unless the situation calls for it. That’s something she can certainly talk about, but there was no point in making heavy matters heavier than they already were.
But she does understand the brevity of such matters, she does. A certain old man came to her mind at the thought, a man whom she had initially harbored an enormous amount grief over.
“Grandpa, you’re not here…”
Her younger self had uttered those words, quiet and trembling in the thick mist of Wuwang Hill. She had waited for days, surrounded by spirits mocking her, reminding her of her gullibility to believe that Old Hu would be there.
At the statement of an unfamiliar old lady, who had told her nothing more than she had already been hearing the past few days – no director from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had ever stuck around on the mortal plane, and her beloved Old Hu was no different.
Hu Tao had realized then, that the wait was futile. To expect her grandfather to be around when he had no reason to stay in this life was selfish of her, and that if he had lived a good life, what reason was there for him to linger around?
She had come home with an empty pack of supplies from her days camping out and was amused to find that inside it lay the glint of a familiar item she had only seen among certain exceptional people. A pyro vision – interesting.
Well, she supposes that even despite all that, certain people do bring out the more solemn side of her sometimes.
One of these certain people was a green-haired immortal, more familiar to the inhabitants of Liyue than he thinks. Hu Tao had only seen him a few times, but she was no stranger to who he was and what he did. When asked by others, she’d deny it –
“Hm…? What would I know about the adepti? That stuff’s top secret, don’t come asking me about it!” She’d replied to the one time she had been asked about people like him.
But make no mistake, she knows. She knows what it means to be one, and what it means to be him specifically. If the red that adorns her body comes from dainty cloth tassels, red poppies and her pyro alignment, then the red that adorns his was much less savory.
Thick in consistency, born from the slash of bright green jade that contrasted the red harshly. Yet, it was not quite red when dried and smeared, as if trying to erase the carnage left in its wake. The mark will not have been as fresh then, but its imprint will remain even beyond the careful, calculated wipe she imagines him to do every time.
She would cross paths with him on Wuwang Hill one day, while on her daily nighttime strolls in the area.
Nothing was off from usual – the trees were as tall and dark as ever, thick leaves on their tops only allowing slivers of moonlight to seep into the clearing she was at. The steady rush of a nearby stream soothed her senses as the blue glow of fireflies surrounded her vision, untrampled grass that stood still from the lack of wind tickling at her legs.
In the distance, however, was quite the aberrant sight. A man clad in rather archaic attire stood not too far from her, semi-hidden behind a tree trunk as if not wanting to be seen. So he knew she was there.
“Oya, I can see you! I’m not blind,” Hu Tao remarks, and the adeptus looks up at her.
“I never cease to be amazed by your interesting words.” The familiar man sighs and takes off his mask.
Strong gold eyes littered with caution and – if she squints – exhaustion. Wrinkled face, but otherwise clean compared to the rest of his body, soiled in grime with the obvious smell of miasma surrounding him.
“And what brings Adeptus Xiao to this corner of Liyue this fine night, hm?” Hu Tao muses.
“You’re asking useless questions.” Xiao grunts, but doesn’t move away, in fact continuing to train his gaze onto her.
Cautious, yet curious, isn’t he?
Hu Tao should spare this boy the trouble, she thinks, it would do no good to beat around the bush.
“You’re not going to question why I’m here? Shame.”
“Acting as if I don’t know who you are, don’t look down on me.” Xiao mumbles, and moves to sit on a nearby rock, latching his mask back to the ribbon around his waist.
“So stiff! I was just asking a question.” She says, smiling at him.
“I don’t have time for idle talk.”
“Yeah, you just went to sit! You do.”
The boy seems to ponder his options, before resigning to the enigmatic girl and pushing his hand up his disheveled hair with a hum.
“…Say what you have to, then.”
With a snicker, Hu Tao sits across him, on a rock a bit further up the stream.
“Want to hear a funny little story? I mean, you’re hearing it anyway.”
A noncommittal hum. It’s enough of an approval, she supposes.
“Once upon a time, there was a person. He had lived most of his life sulking, too busy caught up in his own self-pity that he wouldn’t be able to see past the cloud he had created for himself. Unable to live his life to the fullest, he was left wanting and empty. By the time he had passed, he was doomed to roam mortal lands forever, unable to pass on completely. The end!”
Hu Tao thinks back to a certain Meng she had helped not too long ago, would he have been in the same predicament had she not intervened? It was an interesting thought, albeit she already knows the answer.
“That is a pity, indeed.” Xiao says, voice taut.
“Oh, but that’s you, idiot.”
“Hmph, lies. I would not say I am as – er, unhappy, as you perceive me to be.” Xiao grunts, before adjusting the sleeve on his arm. “Certainly not that helpless. I will not turn out that way.”
Oh, this boy was an absolute lost case, Hu Tao thinks to herself. She had never understood how some people can say such self-contradictions with so much conviction, especially since he should know nothing ever gets past her.
“I disagree! But perhaps even I can appreciate your stubbornness to accept death.”
“You say bold words knowing I am someone who constantly stands at its door every waking second. I am ready to accept it.”
“Wrong! You don’t accept it. You anticipate it, you brace yourself for the full force of it. I bet you can practically feel the grip of death from where you’re standing, and it must smell icky by the way – but you never open the door, even if you know what’s waiting for you on the other side.”
Xiao takes a breath in, and Hu Tao smiles. She can’t help but rile him up a bit more, if not to see his amusing reactions.
“Your hand is stuck on the handle, and you know that one turn of your wrist will lead you to it. The death you’re so prepared for, is it not?”
“So, Alatus, what is stopping you from opening that door?”
His name rolls off her tongue casually, and she knew he would have berated her for it had he not been struck by the statement that she knew, hit far too close to home for him.
Xiao keeps silent, and Hu Tao would have expected the boy to disappear in a flurry of wind. She’d be disappointed if he did, it was quite fun teasing him like this.
“I have a duty to repay.”
“Hmm, I don’t think that’s it.” Hu Tao frowns and brings herself face-to-face with Xiao. He looks less disgruntled and more avoidant now, and Hu Tao smiles.
“Aiya, you anemo folk sure are stubborn.” She says, recalling a few other similar-minded people in her lifetime. So, so dedicated to their ideals, so, so bound to it. Such a pity.
“I must admit your view regarding death is rather… pragmatic.”
“So I’ve been told!” Hu Tao giggles, hopping off the rock and brandishing a finger at Xiao.
Hu Tao sighs. “Haa, you’re predictable. I’m just toying with you; I know what it is you want.”
“You want to learn to live peacefully.”
“I – have no such selfish desires. Morax has assigned me to this duty, and I will see it through to its end.”
“Wrong again! Ya, I understand now why Zhongli always makes those comments about you.”
“Mo – Zhongli, what does he say about me?” She sees Xiao’s guard come down at the mention of the stuffy old man, and Hu Tao’s eyes twinkle bright.
“Secret!” She exclaims, putting her finger up to her lips in to signify that her lips are sealed… for now. He'd have to find out about his embarrassing comments of concern on his own.
His eyebrows twitch ever-so-slightly, but otherwise his face has contorted back to its usual stone-cold setting. Hm, maybe she should indulge him a bit more?
“I’m leaving, I still have to duties to attend to.” Xiao says, grabbing his spear and dusting off the dirt from his pants. Hu Tao would like to let him stay, but even someone like her could understand that today was not the time for that.
Hu Tao could only let out a tsk, before calling out once more – “One last thing?”
Xiao turns around, golden eyes still as guarded as ever, but there is a genuine expression of questioning behind it.
“Make it quick.”
Hu Tao adjusts the rings on her fingers before making a shape with them – pyro energy fluctuating to form one antenna, then another, then a pair of luminescent wings. A butterfly. Energy pulsates from the phantom-like creature as she presents it to Xiao.
“You better keep this. Think of this as a favor, eh? If you feel like ditching that little ruse of yours, you can come to me. I'll make sure you'll have something to remember your life by... and I’ll give you an extra special discount, on the house.”
Xiao only looks at it with an odd characteristic of curiosity, not befitting someone who’s lived centuries longer than she had. An immortal being at that, of what particular importance is the culmination of a vision to him?
Hu Tao could only grin at how easy it is to wrap this boy around her finger, and had he been in a slightly more favorable predicament, he would surely be one of her favorite subjects to tease on the regular.
“Are you telling me you’re awaiting my death?” Xiao asks incredulously.
“Well, yes,” Hu Tao drawls out. “But, above all, let’s just consider this as your long overdue spiritual cleanup.”
Xiao shakes his head. “My soul is tainted with eons of karma, do not think you can just – “
“Nonsense! A fancy coffin would just be a waste on an unhappy person, after all!”
In defeat, the adeptus dons on his mask, but not before taking the butterfly in a careful hold.
“…I will consider that option.”