Chapter Text
His vision had been glowing incessantly for a week or so now, the amber light often drawing the attention of passersby and his peers at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. It was becoming distracting, that suddenly the small jewel attached to the back of his long blazer would begin to increase in brightness out of nowhere. It had begun with only a small twinkle; now it sometimes threatened to outshine the sun.
Zhongli was frustrated, and rather at a loss for what he should do about this. It was becoming embarrassing, he would be speaking with a client regarding upcoming funeral preparations when out of nowhere his vision would begin impatiently glowing, as if demanding attention. It was somewhat bothersome, having to quickly unclip the Geo vision from its chain on his back, then concealing the gem in a pocket within his jacket. Even then, a bit of the glow still peeked through the fabric.
He knew what was happening. When a person’s soulmate comes near, when a pair of soulmates’ paths are going to cross soon, their vision begins to light up, operating as a sort of radar that could be used to seek out their soulmate. Zhongli assumed his soulmate had to be close, and was staying close, because the light never fully went off. Even when the man was about to rest his head onto his pillow for a good night’s sleep, the Geo vision that laid neatly on top of his prepared and folded clothes would continue to shine.
Zhongli was rather bothered by the sudden appearance of his soulmate. At least, his new soulmate. For thousands of years he’d been without a lover, he’d continually deny his soulmate once he was discovered. He would send them away with a frustrated look, but his eyes always revealed the displeasure that came with this process. It was never easy to do such a thing.
He’d only accepted a soulmate once, only one time he allowed the relationship to begin and blossom as it was preordained. In retrospect, Zhongli believed he had been awfully foolish to believe such a wonderful thing as a relationship determined by fate and destiny, or at least that it would last at all.
Guizhong had been the first person he’d ever loved, and had been loved by. She’d been his first love, a gentle soul who taught him that there was more to life than violence and constant warmongering. Slowly he let his guard down, but only to her, she was the only person who could come that close to him without Morax feeling threatened.
A few thousand years ago, there was even an old legend that Rex Lapis had proudly worn a chain of flowers over his shoulders, flowers stuck in his hair. He was smiling too, walking alongside Guizhong as they strolled the streets of the Guili Assembly, chattering on about mechanisms and what have you. That smile that the people had seen on Morax was described in stone.
“The joyous smile of the God of Contracts was so bright, the sun’s illumination appeared dim in comparison.”
The last time anyone had seen that sort of smile on him was the day before the Assembly was attacked, the day before Guizhong was slaughtered in battle, the day before he found her barely breathing in that same field of glaze lilies they’d met in.
“Forget me, Rex,” Guizhong begged, her voice echoing through Zhongli’s memory. He remembered how much pain he’d been in as her grip on his shoulder became loose, her hand falling limply to her side as Morax trembled in a sort of rage that could not be properly explained, clutching her body close to his chest. The ground quaked with his fury, a fury that all would come to fear.
Love isn’t easy when you’re a god that can’t be easily killed, and everyone around you is either an easily-killable human, or an adeptus that is just as hardy and old as you are, yet still killable. That’s what Zhongli was most afraid of, falling into the sweet and comfortable embrace that was a loving relationship only for his lover to die far sooner than he would. He’d find his soulmate, his soulmate would grow old, and die, as humans do. And he would be left alone all over again. Better to never get attached than to fall hard and feel the gut-wrenching grief of losing the person that matters the most.
He didn’t want to live through that pain again, didn’t want to lose someone like he’d lost Guizhong all those years ago. How cruel of her, to leave him behind to a throne won by blood, and a life of chilling solitude.
Zhongli was just somewhat grateful that the years had slowly healed him, changed him from a bloodthirsty warlord to a reformed man just seeking a bit of peace and leisure. But as much as time could heal, it couldn’t take away that fear, that anxiety, as that wound would reopen every so once in a while when his soulmate was reincarnated again, and they would meet.
Finding out his new soulmate was close by did bring quite a bit of that aforementioned anxiety. Zhongli would have to explain to his new soulmate that he wasn’t emotionally available, that they would never be in a relationship, that the two of them would never amount to anything despite being quite literally born for each other. It always weighed heavy on his heart.
“Zhongli,” the director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor called. “What’s got you so deep in thought? We’re about to have a business lunch and hopefully secure an important partnership.” She crossed her arms in faux anger, not at all mad but more curious perhaps, wanting to know what had her consultant zoned so far out. After all, Zhongli was a good worker, not usually one to lose focus or go drifting off down memory lane like that.
Zhongli blinked, and his consciousness returned from those fields and ruins in the Guili Plains from millenia ago, now brought back to where he stood at the entrance of Liuli Pavilion.
“I humbly apologize, director,” he began with a gentle bow of his head. “I was merely contemplating how to proceed with the partnership. You mentioned this person we’re meeting is…”
“A Fatui Harbinger,” Hu Tao stated. “I understand how the Fatui work, how they’re not always trustworthy, but they’ve offered us a partnership that could prove beneficial.” She turned to look at him, her hands smoothing out her black clothing. She fixed her hat, making sure it was upright on her head.
Zhongli simply nodded. “Shall we proceed?” he asked, reaching for the doorknob. Upon receiving her nod of confirmation, he twisted the knob and opened the door.
The light that filled the room was suddenly blinding. Not only was Zhongli’s vision glowing brighter than it ever had before, but the other person’s vision was as well. Poor Hu Tao had covered her eyes, being innocently caught in the middle of a rather awkward exchange.
Zhongli quickly removed his vision from the back of his jacket and tucked it into its designated pocket, hoping for dear lord that the thick fabric of his blazer could conceal the amber light. The other person in the room seemed panicked too, trying to remove his Hydro vision from his belt in an attempt to conceal it somewhere within his jacket as well.
When the light went down, and everyone opened their eyes, Zhongli was able to see who else was in the room; the Fatui Harbinger who wore a perplexed and slightly embarrassed expression. Granted, Zhongli was just as embarrassed.
Now that he knew he wasn’t going to go blind, Zhongli took a good look at the man before him. He had orange hair with little freckles that danced upon his cheeks; a ginger with these dark sapphire eyes. He had a red mask resting on the side of his head, a matching red scarf draped across his shoulders. The Fatui’s whole figure was illuminated in a blue hue from his somewhat poorly shielded vision, hastily tucked away in a pants pocket.
If Zhongli were a normal man, he would have gone to speak to the man posthaste, but with his past and his hesitancy, he simply stood there still as the statues of Rex Lapis scattered around Liyue. He was a deer in the headlights, amber eyes open wide and pupils blown. His breath seemed to be caught in his throat.
Hu Tao rubbed her eyes in annoyance, trying to save the already awkward situation. “Ahem, well then, gentlemen,” she began, treating the odd occurrence as if it hadn’t happened at all. “Shall we have a seat? We have much to discuss.”
Zhongli nodded, feeling immediately grateful that Hu Tao had said something. He quickly bowed his head in greeting towards the Fatui, taking a seat. The Fatui agent sat at the end of the table, Hu Tao sat beside him, and Zhongli sat next to Hu Tao. He wanted to distance himself.
This was weird. Usually he was just able to tell his soulmate to go away, to leave, but now professionalism was on the line and he had a job to do. He was now being somewhat forced into conversation and interaction. Zhongli knew he had to swallow the lump in his throat, because Hu Tao wouldn’t exactly be understanding.
“I apologize for making you wait, Mr. Tartaglia,” Hu Tao said politely, as somewhat of a formality. “My name is Hu Tao, I am the director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. This is my consultant, Zhongli.”
“I am pleased to meet you,” Zhongli added in a low voice, though his hands were shaking under the table. He couldn’t even look this man in the eyes, he was so nervous. He could feel his gaze on him, the Harbinger watching him with an amused smile.
“Please, you need only call me Childe,” the man, Childe, explained. His gaze flicked to Hu Tao for a moment before landing back on Zhongli, who was looking for anything else to look at other than the Fatui.
“I understand,” Hu Tao replied. “Thank you for coming, we are interested in the deal you are going to offer, and we have come to discuss the details.”
Zhongli took out a few sheets of paper and a fountain pen, ready to take down notes from the meeting. Hu Tao had asked him to do so, and he was glad he had something to do, something to keep his mind off of what had just happened. He raised his hands to the paper and began writing, his hands still trembling.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Zhongli saw Childe’s eyebrows raise in surprise.
Childe’s attention turned back to Hu Tao and they began business. The offer was somewhat simple, the Fatui organization would provide funding and protection to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, in exchange for their undertaker services for Sneznhayans and Fatui who perished in Liyue. The funeral parlor would be providing them a service, and thus would be joining the Fatui network, which called for some protection. All the while this was happening, Zhongli was dutifully taking notes, despite his anxiously racing heart.
It wasn’t love, or just general shyness from making a new acquaintance, but fear. A deep fear that he hadn’t felt for a while, one that had his face paling and his irises shaking. Zhongli couldn’t help but be reminded of himself and Guizhong, the day they met in the glaze lily field and their visions had lit up like the full moon on a bleak night. This was the first time since then that his vision had glowed so brightly, that elemental energy had hung so heavily in the air.
Zhongli looked up to peek at the Harbinger, relieved when he wasn’t met with an enthusiastic glance. Childe was still discussing a few terms and conditions with Hu Tao, who was going to have a contract written up and processed, most likely something Zhongli would be in charge of. The two of them were focused in their discussion, talking about something he didn’t quite have the wherewithal to pay attention to.
After all, he had a lot to think about.
His attention was brought back to the conversation at hand when Hu Tao and Childe stood, shaking their hands in agreement. They both seemed pleased, it seemed the partnership would commence upon signature of the contract. Zhongli stood as well, collecting his paper and pen hastily.
He really didn’t want to interact with Childe any further at this time, his body language and refusal to make eye contact with either the Fatui or his own superior. The moment Hu Tao and Childe said goodbye to each other he was out the door, making quick work of the walk down the Liyue Harbor strip. He was worried the harbinger would try to speak to him or corner him in the restaurant, so he decided it best to leave with great urgency.
Zhongli hid in his office like a mouse hiding from a particularly hungry cat, his hands still shaking as he pressed his back against the closed door. He took his vision out from its place in his pocket to see it was still lit up, but not as bright anymore. It had completed its function, Zhongli knew who his soulmate was, so it had no need to continue the irritating assault on peoples’ eyes.
Falling into his desk chair, he gave a deep sigh. “Archons, why does this have to happen now?” he groaned, his head in his hands as he leaned onto the desktop. “Must we continue this cycle?” He was looking straight up at the ceiling, as if asking Celestia directly.
Zhongli gave another sigh, his mind beginning to wander once again.
So, he had a new soulmate, this Tartaglia guy from Snezhnaya. He would once again be forced to have that talk, that difficult talk with his soulmate. But this wasn’t going to be easy, because now Zhongli was forced to work with Childe. Usually he was able to just send people away, and they would leave, but there was obligation now. They couldn’t just ignore each other, not with the partnership that had just been agreed upon.
He was getting old, getting tired. Though his physical form always represented that of a gentleman in his thirties, he felt an odd ache in his bones and a fatigue in his mind that was beginning to cloud his judgment. The restrictions of being an Archon had been weighing heavier on him lately.
Zhongli had been considering retirement for a long time. He’d been alive for over 6000 years for god’s sake, and those years were often packed full of turmoil and chaos. When he was born as Morax, the God of Contracts, he had to learn to traverse the world by himself, he’d had to learn to defend himself. He’d had to protect Guizhong and the Guili Assembly, a task he’d eventually failed. He’d had to fight and kill the gods near him, some of which were still locked away underground or under the sea, pinned down by his stone spears. Then, he’d had a nation to establish and lead. Rex Lapis had led his people south, where Liyue was established in safety. Then, as per his contract, he was obligated if not required to protect and serve Liyue. There was not a moment's rest in his entire life.
For once, Zhongli thought it would be nice to experience a year of nothing, a year of boredom, a year of finally letting his guard down.
And wouldn’t it be nice to settle down? To have a lover, to have a place to call home, to have a place to rest his weary head. The appearance of this soulmate, this Tartaglia, was suddenly sparking some questions, some thoughts and impulses he would try to sleep over rather than acting on immediately. It only increased his anxious worries, no other appearance had prompted such thought. He supposed it was related to the now mandatory business relationship between he and Childe.
How would he step down? It’s not like he could just put in a letter of resignation, he couldn’t just make some announcement that he was retiring. And would Liyue be able to survive without him, especially since he’d been with them since before Liyue was Liyue.
And how on earth would Childe come into play? Would any of this work out?
Zhongli sighed. He knew the only people that might understand would be his fellow adepti. He made a mental note to search for Xiao, and speak to him privately about what was happening. But he had more urgent matters on his hands; this contract he needed to draft, and what to do with this Fatui Harbinger.
There was a knock on Zhongli’s locked office door, which made him jump; he’d been a bit too far in his own consciousness. He suspected it would be Hu Tao, coming to discuss the meeting with him and possibly reprimand him for what had happened. After all, if it wasn’t for Hu Tao, that meeting might not have gone nearly as well as it had. He stood from his desk and took a few paces towards the door.
Zhongli opened the door, surprised to see that it was not, in fact, Hu Tao. Instead, it was Tartaglia. He’d followed Zhongli from Liuli Pavillion to the parlor, something that didn’t shock him too much. But it didn't make him comfortable either.
He met the Fatui’s gaze. “Can I help you with anything, Mr. Tartaglia?” he asked, faking his best customer service voice, even pasting on a fake smile to hide his anxiety.
“I think you may be able to, Mr. Zhongli,” Childe replied, his voice smooth and sharp. He sounded like honey, using a tone he’d not used towards the Director during the meeting. He was getting closer, too, so close that Zhongli could smell Childe’s Snezhnayan cologne. A subtle mixture of cinnamon and pine, the spice itching the inside of his nose. A mixture of a hot scent and a cooling one, there was a hint of mint.
Zhongli backed up, trying to keep his composure. “What can I do for you?” he asked, swallowing hard. As much as he could hold himself still, his pupils were trembling a little bit. He stepped back into the room, putting distance between himself and the other man. Thought he was nervous, he held himself steady as stone.
“Why must we dance this dance? you know why I'm here. We have no reason to be hesitant with each other, you saw what happened,” Childe teased, coming closer once again. “Your vision is still ablaze.” He glanced at Zhongli’s vision, placed haphazardly on the table. As Childe had said, it certainly was lit up, the golden light filling the dimly lit room.
“I’m afraid I cannot speak with you about this matter at this time. I do have quite a bit of business to attend to, including drafting the contract you agreed upon only minutes ago. The Director will send someone for you when it is ready to be signed,” Zhongli explained, now backed against the desk. He felt a little bit of frustration bubble up inside of him. How was this guy not getting the hint that he didn't want to talk about it?
Childe seemed slightly put off by the consultant’s stubbornness, crossing his arms. “You aren’t allowed to speak about the fact that we almost blinded each other with our visions?” he pondered, his eyes narrowed slightly. He sounded slightly irate.
Zhongli gave an exasperated sigh. “I do not wish to. I would prefer our relationship to be purely business related, professional,” he stated, his tone a bit firm and borderline venomous. “I do not owe you an explanation, it is a sensitive topic. I suggest you take your leave before Director Hu reconsiders her agreement.”
Childe narrowed his eyes again. “Watch yourself, Mr. Zhongli, the Fatui may not take an uncooperative attitude very lightly,” he threatened, growling and grumbling as he made quick work of leaving the room and loudly closing the door behind himself, making quite a ruckus. “I’ll be back,” he heard from the other side of the door.
Zhongli pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut. “That was… unnecessarily unpleasant,” he whispered, his free hand gently loosening his tie. “I hate that I have to do it, but how am I going to proceed with my work if he’s constantly breathing down my neck?”
Reluctantly taking a seat in his desk chair once more, he began his work and started drafting up a contract on a fresh piece of paper.