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Only a few had caught his attention — the hardworking maid in Mondstadt, the rebel general in Inazuma, the lady who used to sell seashells in the wharf, the girl who sang at the opera. They were the special few, the rare chosen ones recognized for their deeds by the celestial beings in the heavenly kingdom above. He’d only noticed you accidentally, on account of you running through the throng of people in the busy wharf and getting knocked to the ground by an impatient man running to work.
Before Zhongli could aid you, you picked yourself up, dusted yourself off while ignoring the harassing shouts of the Liyue merchants for blocking the path. You brushed them off, “Sorry, I have somewhere urgent to be,” before running off, disappearing among the faces. Zhongli hummed in sonderous amusement. Another mortal, off to do whatever it was mortals did.
So when he saw you disappear into the front door of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, he wondered just how much you had to do with his own mortal life.
“Who was that?” he asked his boss, Hu Tao. She giggled at his curiosity — it was unlike him to be asking questions.
“Ah, Mister Zhongli! That’s F/N, never seen them before? They’re a representative who used to work in Mondstadt, but got sent here to be an envoy for Liyue business.”
“And they are in a funeral parlor because—?”
“Don’t you know?” she asked. “The Qixing got the Dawn Winery of Mondstadt to sponsor the Rite of Descension this year!”
“But,” he pressed, “Rex Lapis is…”
“Passed on! Which is why we offer wine during the Rite of Parting,” she smiled. “And Mondstadt has been so kind to lend us their finest! A goodbye gift from the Anemo Archon, they say.”
Wine from Mondstadt? Zhongli's lower lip curled, disgruntled. No doubt that atrocious bard was behind this, knowing full well that Morax was not dead. And now you had been sent by the nation's top wine master to deal with affairs in Liyue. He frowned. So he would only be seeing you if you succeeded, given how competitive it was to get a career in Liyue Harbor. As of right now, he wasn’t sure if you’d handle the job, considering that you hailed from the godless City of Freedom. Brushing the thought aside — if you did it right, complied to honor the memory of the Geo Archon, perhaps he’d see just what he wanted to do with you.
“Give me everything you know,” Zhongli said, linking his fingers together and leaning his chin on the bridge created by them. His office was warm, just how he liked it, and his fingers were cool to the touch on his skin.
“Sure thing!” chirped Hu Tao, sitting on the seat in front of his desk. “Well, they worked in Mondstadt as a personal secretary for Master Diluc Ragnvindr—”
“Master Diluc?” Zhongli hummed. “Of Mondstadt? Impressive.”
“Yes! They’re quite the connoisseur for wine as well — ahem. It says in their curriculum vitae that they went to trade school in Sumeru. They sought to work somewhere outside Mondstadt, so when the Qixing contacted Dawn Winery, Master Diluc personally assigned them to work in Liyue.”
“And the Vision?”
“Electro. Given when they were sixteen years old because Mondstadters thought them cuckoo for being too perceptive. Someone in the Knights of Favonius taught them how to carry a polearm… Hey, that’s the same as us! Think we’ll get along?”
Zhongli let out a thoughtful hum.
“Y’know Mister Zhongli, I read their interview file, and to be honest — they seem like the ideal candidate to help you.”
Zhongli drummed his fingers on the table, thinking. “Alright. Send them in.”
Hu Tao’s eyes bugged. “What?”
“I’ll see them. Talk to them, hear them out. Take them around Liyue, work with them. Why don’t we prove to them how welcoming we can be?”
Hu Tao laughed in disbelief. “Whatever makes you happy, Mister Zhongli!” She skipped from the room and left the man to fix his collar, though he knew it was ridiculous of him to be worrying about how he looked.
You had been surprised to be called on by Hu Tao herself. She was well-known both in the business and necromance industries for being a strangely positive and ambitious lady. Not to mention she was successful as well, despite having inherited the business at a young age. In Mondstadt, when your bard friend, Venti, had heard you were going to set off for Liyue at a short notice, he shoved a bottle of wine into your hands as you stood at the gates of the city.
“Give this to Mister Zhongli if you meet him,” he said quickly, and before you could ask why, he disappeared. “Don't ask questions. You’ll like him!”
You thought this was strange because there was no way Venti would willingly hand you a bottle of wine for free. And now here you were, eyes scanning Zhongli’s office, taking in the dark antique furniture, the fine jade embedded with exquisite gold boasting of Liyue’s culture. Your lips curled down at the thought of the stiff customs. Unlike Mondstadt, Liyue Harbor was not hospitable.
“Mister Zhongli,” you greeted.
“F/N,” he replied. His voice was like a silk flower, smooth to the last syllable. “I hear that Dawn Winery is looking to sign a business deal with Wangsheng Funeral Parlor via the Qixing.”
“That is correct, sir,” you answered politely. “Wine is offered in funerals, and Lady Ningguang has been very interested in that of Mondstadt. It is what we’re known for, after all.”
Zhongli’s eyes narrowed a little, as though scrutinizing you.
“I take it you’re from Mondstadt? What do you think of Liyue Harbor?”
You tilred your head to the side, slightly abashed by his question.
“Liyue Harbor? To be honest sir, I don’t have much of an opinion.”
“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“When I arrived here, people told me this was far better than my ‘godless city .’ As someone who grew up with the Church of Favonius, well, I couldn’t take those insults lightly.”
“I see,” he replied. He blinked. It made him resemble a lizard. You weren’t sure what exactly he was thinking. “Hm, well, in that case, you’ll be perfect.” Perhaps the better term was dragon.
“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The point of your trip to Liyue was to work your way up. What would Diluc say if you sent him a report that it took no effort? “Was this a ploy by Venti?”
“Venti?” The name brought his brows together. “You know the bard?”
“Yes?” The end of your sentence rose in uncertainty like you were asking a question.
“We’re old friends, that's all.”
“Hm, he never mentioned having friends in Liyue,” you mused. You gave him a clipped smile, one that he recognized all too well in the faces of businessmen down the harbor. "Anyways—sir, if I'm not mistaken, is it of utmost importance that we agree to sign a contract right about now?"
An easy smile formed on Zhongli’s lips. So you respected how things in Liyue worked. Good. This would make things easier for him to get to know you since you’d be working under his guidance.
“Of course. Welcome to Liyue Harbor.”
Among the busy crowd, Zhongli’s eyes peered over the thicket to catch sight of you again, heading to work. You sensed someone’s gaze on you and turned to see the golden eyes of the mysterious man you had formally met a month ago. You politely smiled in greeting and received an equally polite nod in return.
You contemplated hanging back so you could walk with Zhongli, but thought better against it. He was an enchanting enigma. Was it his drawl, painting old tales with mere words? Or the red liner around his eyes, like he was looking into your soul? Perhaps it was because he was the epitome of calm, even in the hustle of the harbor in which he resided.
In the funeral parlor, while helping him review the paperwork of the upcoming clients to serve, you would sometimes hear him say throwaway things about life and death.
“An Adeptus has passed? You need not be saddened… unlike mortals, death is but closure for those who have flourished in time.”
Truth be told, it almost scared you. How orderly he was, like a monumental rock rooted to the same spot while the world changes around him. You mentioned this to Zhongli later that day and he laughed, reminding you how fragile mortals were in the face of everything. He spoke as if he were merely a shadow in the light of all that moved, an observer rather than someone who experienced life under the sun.
“Liyue Harbor is very busy, isn’t it, Mister Zhongli?” you asked, leaning over the rails in the veranda of the parlor, while Zhongli prepared tea at the table. It was lunch break, and the building was quiet as Hu Tao had gone out to do errands. “Everything here never seems to cease.”
“Oh? And does this change your opinion on whether it is better or less inviting than Mondstadt?”
“Mondstadt is laid-back, like the wind. We never really have to worry much other than hilichurl camps and the occasional Ruin Guard, but the Knights of Favonius always work hard to keep them at bay. The Stormterror threat was resolved. In Liyue, however, since Rex Lapis passed on…”
“I am very sorry that you had to come when Osial struck. I can assure you that Liyue is not always like this. Though, it has changed many times over the centuries.”
Over the past few months, he’d learned so much about you. So much that made his desire to teach you something other than his trade at the funeral parlor. To teach you the workings of what could be more than friendship, the all-encompassing passions fueled by carnal desire.
He liked the way your face knitted together in thought while he spoke, intently listening to ramblings that were becoming more and more frequent the more time you spent together. The way your hands were smaller than his. He even held them up to compare your palms, not minding the way your face heated up in embarrassment when he did so. When you brushed against him sometimes, he would feel your skin, blazing with blood underneath and a heart that beat within.
You were so human, and treated him so. It felt good, made him feel alive, that time stopped for once and let him bask in the quietness for once. He was getting distracted by the way you reacted to him. You didn’t know, but you could feel the way his eyes scanned over you, even in the crowds. But he was only your supervisor.
What would Hu Tao say if she knew Zhongli was taking a gentle liking to one of his workers? Though, she would most likely cackle about it and laugh.
Soon after, you began to berate yourself. Not because work was stressful, but because you were starting to look forward to work too much thanks to the presence of a certain consultant. Your thoughts about him began to wander, the curious cat in you unable to be satisfied by the ridiculous answers you had come up with.
Zhongli was truly something. It was as though he had made it his career goal to flatter you as much as possible with his kindness. He was smooth, gentleman-like, and well-spoken. He held the door open for you, shared his umbrella over your head on rainy days, knew the exact way you took your favorite tea. He even had it ready for you every morning.
Not to mention that there were other things — bizarre things — too. He would gladly talk about anything and everything except for how he knew your bard friend from home. That added to the fact that you found Venti to be extremely suspicious as well. When you brought up the topic to him, he didn’t quite meet your eyes and skillfully steered the topic to Mondstadt wine, which, as the wine expert, you were forced to comply with.
Zhongli was a strange man. Scary, even, with how porcelain-doll-perfect he seemed to be from his dainty looks down to the clear articulation of his words. Despite everything, you were comfortable with him all the same.
Once, when he took you out for a friendly spar, you fought with your polearm. You infused your spear with Electro as you swung and parried at the man before you. But although you were decent with your weapon, Zhongli clearly had years and years of practice up his sleeve.
“Did you know—” Zhongli dodged a hit from you and thrust his blade forward, which you narrowly missed, “—that the Raiden Shogun of Inazuma wields an Electro polearm as well?”
“I have not heard much of Inazuma since the Sakoku Decree,” you breathed out, backing up a bit while he took offense, “but I have heard that she uses a sword. They say there’s a sword art exclusive to only her. How did you know she uses a polearm?”
"Why, it's common knowledge, F/N,” he replied. You dodged his attack, and he chuckled. “Everyone knew it back then when I was younger. Is it because she now resides her thoughts in her blade instead?”
“Huh? When you were younger?”
You stopped moving for a moment, and Zhongli had to follow suit.
“What is the matter?”
“The Raiden Shogun — when she wields a polearm, you say that was common knowledge when you were young. But that was thousands of years ago, during the Archon War.”
“I was much of a history buff when I was a child. ” He raised his eyebrows. “Admittedly, it’s not common knowledge.”
You furrowed your brows. “But there aren’t very many historical records of the Archon War. You know so much… far more than any human must know.”
“Why does that matter to you?” Zhongli left the spear at his back, feeling it disappear after being left idle.
“I was just thinking.” You didn’t want him to see the guilt in your eyes for wondering if he was normal.
Zhongli liked that you were a very perceptive person, though maybe you were a little too perceptive with your theories. He inwardly chuckled at the look of perplexion on your face. Maybe he’d test you, see how far he could push your buttons until you figured it out.
“F/N.” When he said your name, you looked away. “What is troubling you?”
You both left the sparring building to head back to the funeral parlor. After a while, you finally answered him after much thought.
“I — are you mortal?”
“Pardon me?”
So much for dignity and respect. You had gotten too confident with his presence. Steadying yourself, you took a deep inhale of breath.
“It’s just that — sometimes your abilities are out of the ordinary. Perhaps I’m spending too much time with you, but I can’t help but notice these… things about you.”
The last comment made Zhongli smile, which sent a fluttering wave of flapping crystal flies to your stomach. Which was rather stupid, of course. You were about to accuse him of being a supernatural being.
“What things?”
“Firstly — you seem to know everything about Liyue. And I mean everything!”
“I read a lot of books.”
“You live in the city of commerce, yet you hardly have a clue how to commerce yourself. I don't mean as though I’m trying to offend you, but you act as though Mora is something that doesn’t exist.”
“Ah, well, I’m quite forgetful… Perhaps I’m just growing old.”
“You said you’re still in your late twenties.”
Zhongli laughed. “Is that not old to you?”
You half-laughed, half-scoffed in disbelief. “Excuse me? That’s hardly half the age us mortals get in a lifetime.”
“Really?” He looked genuinely thoughtful about this newfound revelation. “I thought it was shorter.”
“And lastly — you look just like the statue of the Geo Archon. On the trail to the harbor, I came upon and offered some Geoculus that I found on the road. The image has been embedded into my mind. And you—”
“Pardon my interruption, F/N.” Zhongli’s voice turned gravelly and serious. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve. “I don’t even know. I have some thoughts, but they’re impossible. I’m only saying these things because it’s been on my mind for a while now.”
“Alright. Thank you very much for sharing.”
You blinked incredulously, staring at him. “That’s all? ‘Thank you for sharing’?”
He shrugged. “You are clearly very stressed. I think you should take a break. I will speak with Hu Tao to give you, what, a week off? Just enough so that you may feel like yourself again.”
You huffed. “My apologies. Please laugh all you want.”
Zhongli tapped his foot on the ground, an indicator that he was in a hurry to get the conversation over. “I am simply curious about what you think of me.”
You folded your arms, and let them fall to the side. “I know what I’m saying is absurd. Please excuse me, Mister Zhongli.”
And with that, you broke off from him and disappeared among the crowd, washed away in the sea of the harbor. When you returned to the office, Hu Tao dropped by, a big smile on her face.
“F/N! Guess what? The Traveler and Paimon are visiting us soon! You met them in Mondstadt, didn’t you?”
From the desk on the other side of the room, you saw Zhongli’s head slightly lift, signaling that he was listening to the conversation. Earlier he had entered the parlor to see you sorting out bills, and you knew he could sense the stiffness from you as he walked past to sit at his chair.
Breaking yourself out of your thoughts, you replied, “Why yes, they had some business with Master Diluc.”
“Great!” said Hu Tao. “If you can, could you collect some silk flowers for me on the way out? Fate is telling me to join their adventure team for a while. They want to explore some foggy island in Inazuma. Hehe, so many ghosts. Might be good for business, don'tcha think?”
“That sounds great,” you said, trying to inject as much enthusiasm in your tone as Hu Tao had in hers. “But who’ll run the parlor while you’re gone?”
“Why, you and Mister Zhongli, of course!”
“Ah…” You felt a dread pit in your stomach. “Zhongli won’t be joining you? I thought the Traveler needed someone with shield powers in such a dangerous island.”
Hu Tao giggled. Her voice was sweet and honeyed, but not in a mocking way: it was purely natural. “Heh, the Traveler stated in their letter that we’ll be joined by some housekeeper from Inazuma.”
“I see.” You tried not to look at Zhongli, who was watching you. “Well, may the Anemo Archon protect you. I’m aware this is Liyue, but it’s what we say in Mondstadt.”
You felt arms wrapping themselves around your middle, and to your surprise, it was your boss doing so. She was truly unlike other businessmen, who’d most likely deem her actions as unprofessional. You met eyes with Zhongli, and there was a glint of exasperation and amusement in them as if to say to you, See what I go through each day? He only spoke after the boss left the room.
“I did not know you were acquainted with the Traveler.”
“They’re the Honorary Knight of the City of Freedom,” you said. “A small place compared to Liyue Harbor. What about you? When did you meet the Traveler and Paimon?”
“A little while after the Rite of Descension.”
“So, a while after the Geo Archon passed on.”
Zhongli cleared his throat.
“I must apologize for the way I acted earlier. It was rude of me to have indirectly called you foolish. Though—”
“Is Rex Lapis really dead?”
“Hm?” He hummed lightly, but it was too light. Your question had been sudden. “Of course. His Exuvia rests at the Golden House.”
“But it’s as if he’s still alive. I constantly feel this strong elemental energy of Geo around me. It’s like being touched by one of the Four Winds — you can tell when something is divine.”
“You are a vision holder, dear,” he pointed out. “Perhaps you feel it full force because the Raiden Shogun hasn’t been giving out Electro visions for a while?”
“Don’t tell me that,” you said quietly. It was a soft sentence, but he could hear in your voice that you were final. “Don’t change the subject.”
“What do you mean?”
“Zhongli, are you Rex Lapis?”
For the first time, he was rendered speechless. You were looking at him with an unsure frown, in the dark, unknowing. A late friend of his had once told him she understood why mortals were hungry for knowledge, and it was because there was a desire to understand. He had brushed her words aside, saying she was talking total nonsense back then, but as you stood there giving him that questioning look — one that was so utterly and incandescently mortal — he thought a little bit of wisdom had begun to seed itself in his brain.
He exhaled before pushing his seat away to stand. He began to stride towards you, and suddenly you felt yourself grow hot with the awareness of how much of a fine being he was. Smooth, perfectly fair skin. Not a hint of unevenness on his complexion. He was the right height, the right amount of muscle and flesh and bone. His legs were long but not lanky. His form pulsated with life, intricately carved and shaped like expensive porcelain.
Zhongli was scary. He was divine.
And you could feel his Vision — was that what you were supposed to call it? — brimming with pure Geo elemental energy so strong that it seemed to wash out your Electro powers, the purple muted in the shine of gold.
Only a deity could do such things.
He leaned in, just enough to whisper in your ear. You looked straight ahead, avoiding turning your head. His face hovered over your ears and neck.
“Rex Lapis,” he began, voice sharp and commanding, “is dead. I am Zhongli. But if you truly want to understand, you have found the truth.”
The silence was deafening. You were almost afraid he could hear how fast your heart was beginning to beat.
“Impossible,” you breathed. “That can’t be—”
“True? Real? You know what’s real and not real, dear,” he whispered. Blood rushed to your face at his baritone. “Everything in Liyue may transcend and develop in the tides of time, but since your curiousity cannot be satisfied — indeed, I am the Lord of Geo.”
It was as if you were in a trance.
“Why did you leave Liyue?”
He leaned back, and for once you saw how much light there was in his pupils.
“The age of Rex Lapis has long passed,” he said. Suddenly he was Zhongli again, telling you another story of olden days. “Humanity is rekindling the sparks of what made Liyue magnificent. It is no longer my time.”
“Your time,” you echoed. Your knees felt wobbly and suddenly you became very interested in the decorative calligraphy scroll that was hanging on the wall behind Zhongli. “Time… ah, it’s about time I picked those Silk Flowers for Director Hu Tao!”
You panicked and turned over your shoulder, stiffly marching away and forgetting to shut the door behind you as you left the parlor, the god of the nation standing alone. Zhongli’s eyes followed you as you fled the scene, amused by the way you had gotten so flustered and defensive despite already knowing the truth. Today had gone nothing as he had predicted. He was never supposed to reveal his role as an Archon, but really, it was inevitable that someone would find out sooner or later.
Besides, you didn’t seem like the type to gossip. There had been a need in him to reveal the deepest darkest parts of himself to you, one that had been further brought out by your sudden interest. He wanted to see how you would react: would you recoil in disgust? Would you turn into one of those Liyue merchants yelling bids by the wharf, looking for something to gain? What would you do?
Apparently, the answer was that you would blatantly ignore him to fetch some Silk Flowers that Hu Tao requested for instead.
Sighing, he went to follow you to Yujing Terrace. He found you there, gathering the red blooms in your arms in the hidden areas of the terrace, your eyes blooming in panic at the sight of him approaching.
“F/N?”
“Mister Zhongli!” He could tell by your fidgeting that you were unsure of what to say. If not unsure, then unwilling to admit it aloud.
“Um.” He paused. “We should talk about what happened earlier.” He stepped underneath the tree the red bushes were growing by, hidden from the rest of the harbor although you could both hear the people going about.
“Mortal life isn’t hard for you?” The curiosity in your eyes made him laugh.
“Out of all the questions, that is the first one you wish to ask of me?” He couldn’t believe how you were taking this. “I spent the better half of the beginning of my life as a mortal being scolded for not knowing how Mora worked.”
Your mind was reeling. “You… are the god.”
“Well, not the god, exactly. There are many gods in the world. I’m only a god,” he said, trying to lighten the moment. When you didn’t say anything else, he sighed. “Forgive me. I thought you might treat me differently if you knew. Other than a few, I never really had mortal friends whom I can deeply trust like this.”
You looked down, thinking it through. This was still Zhongli, even if he was Rex Lapis.
“So,” Zhongli said, holding out his arm for you to take, “no more surprises?”
You paused and then took his arm. “No more surprises,” you repeated.
A relieved smile spread across Zhongli’s face, and you found yourself once again captivated by his handsome features. Nervously, you looked away, your gaze landing on the Silk Flowers in your hand as he walked with you through Yujing Terrace, on the bridge over the small pond where Lotus Heads grew. Around you, people chatted, the place as busy as ever.
Your gaze landed on a stone mural on one of the walls surrounding the terrace. It was a sizable image of Rex Lapis bringing down his spears on Osial millennia ago, his Yakshas and warriors fighting behind him.
“Is that you?” you asked.
Zhongli nodded. “I don’t really like seeing myself in paintings,” he said sheepishly. “Don’t you?”
“No one has ever painted a portrait of me.”
“Well, they should.”
You felt your face grow warm as you continued walking through the harbor. You returned to the funeral parlor where Hu Tao greeted you cheerfully and thanked you for bringing her the Silk Flowers she asked for. When you handed them to her, she looked confused as she peered over your shoulder.
“Mister Zhongli! Have you been slacking off? What’s got you all red?”
Surprisingly enough, you didn’t show up to work for about a week or so. This troubled Zhongli deeply, and when he asked Hu Tao what happened to you, she merely shrugged and said, “They said they were feeling under the weather, so I gave them the time off. I do worry that they work too hard.”
He hadn’t heard from you in days. Ever since The Incident, you’d informed Hu Tao about being sick, always asking her to relay your messages. At this rate, Zhongli was getting worried about your actual health rather than being amused by your avoidance.
“Hu Tao,” Zhongli called. “If you don’t mind, I would like to ask for F/N’s address. I’m going to visit them.”
Hu Tao giggled. “Worried, are we?”
“Of course I am.” He fought the urge to sigh with exasperation. “They’re my subordinate, after all.”
“Aw, shucks. Don’t be so blue! Do whatever you want.”
As Zhongli walked in the direction of your apartment, he tried to convince himself that you had only been embarrassed. Praying to Celestia, or whatever god there may be left, that you weren’t trying to distance yourself from him. On the way over, he stopped at the Wanmin Restaurant to pick up food for you, a little cake that he had wrapped in a box by Xiangling, thinking that you would appreciate it.
Once he showed up at your place, a little house with a veranda, decorated with Glaze Lilies at the windowsill, he hummed in approval at your taste in exterior design. He surprised himself when he found that he had to summon courage before knocking at your door. When you opened it, you were shocked to see him there.
“Hello,” he greeted, presenting the box to you.
“Oh! Thank you,” you said warmly, taking it in. “Come inside, Mister Zhongli.”
He cleared his throat as he stepped inside and respectfully left his shoes at the rack. “You don’t have to call me Mister, especially outside of work, you know.”
You laughed, relieving him. So you weren’t angry or scared of him. When he entered your living room, he saw that there was a blanket left cold. He frowned in concern.
“Are you alright?”
“It turns out I’m allergic to Silk Flowers,” you said, chuckling nervously. You rubbed the back of your head. “Uh, do I sound nasal? I’m resting so I don’t get Hu Tao sick, though I doubt you get allergies since you’re the Prime Adeptus and all.”
“I’ll make you soup,” he said. He didn’t wait for your response and left for the kitchen, and strangely you didn’t mind that he was practically barging into your house. Perhaps he just didn’t know how mortal etiquette worked. “My specialty is Bamboo Shoot Soup, it will make you feel better.”
You settled yourself on the couch while Zhongli went around the kitchen cooking for you. The scent of hot soup wafting into your lungs made you drowsy. When he roused you awake, he tugged your sleeve. “Come,” he said. “If we eat on the veranda, you’ll get fresh air.”
Food was neatly set up on the table before you. In front was the view that overlooked Liyue Harbor, and if you squinted a bit in the far distance, you could make out Cape Oath, where memories of your old life in Mondstadt filled you with nostalgia.
Zhongli nudged you. “We should have a portrait of you painted here,” he said.
“Oh no,” you protested, playing along. “I don’t really like seeing myself in paintings.”
“Do you miss it?” he asked, seeing the wistful look in your eyes as you stared at the outline of Dragonspine in the distance. “Mondstadt?”
“Home is wherever I’m with the people I can trust,” you said. After a momentary thought, you added, “Home is with you, in Liyue Harbor.”
Instead of being stony like he thought he’d be, Zhongli gazed at you and found himself looking forward to the days to come. It had been months, nearly a year since he met you, yet it felt like something in his repetitive life finally changed.
“You—” Zhongli’s brows furrowed, like he was trying to find the right words to say. “You are… a very interesting mortal.”
You covered your mouth to hide your laugh.
“Am I? Well, such is the life of people like me, I guess.”
It was a very quiet life, very different from what he had been accustomed to. Zhongli felt that pleasure he heard the storytellers say so often: acceptance. In his thousands of years of living, he had never experienced something new till now. But this is what it meant to be mortal. To be alive. His divinity shone upon him in the sun, before it hit the ground and melted back into the earth. He was a mortal too. He could rest.
“Liyue Harbor is a wonderful place,” you finally said, bringing him back to the insignificant words he uttered to you so long ago. “It is worth everything to be here.”
A warm hand slipped into yours. You looked down to see his fingers intertwined with yours and felt your heart flutter. But that could come another day. For now, you’d lift the brimming bowl to your lips and drink.