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Bubu Pharmacy was no stranger to gossip; having a revolving door of talkative clients, it was inevitable that Baizhu would hear what they whispered as they left. There was no way for the doctor to ignore the constant murmurings of those around him, and try as he might to block them out, they often caught his attention as sharply as though they were spoken directly against his ear.
“He works that poor girl to the bone.”
“She’s out picking herbs all day, does he even give her time to eat?”
“I heard he runs experiments on her, who knows what she’s been through?”
“She must be miserable, being under the care of a guy as shady as Doctor Baizhu.”
While Baizhu cured ailments with his vast knowledge of herbs to the best of his ability, perhaps it was because he was too good that people began to circulate rumours. There was no way that any normal human should have possessed the amount of knowledge that he did on subjects related not only to medicine, but the natural world as a whole. Moreover, they doubted it was possible that Baizhu could be completely altruistic; especially with those snake-like eyes which at their core represented deception in the opinion of the uneducated and unaware masses.
While Baizhu would be truthful if he told those who doubted him that he cared greatly for the well-being of his patients, there were many secrets that the doctor never wanted to divulge, chief among them his quest for immortality. He knew better than to let it slip that he was willing to work against the Heavenly Principles for a selfish cause, this secrecy making him seem suspect whenever others did business with him. But there were those who kept track of his movements - such as a certain nosey funeral parlour director who had it out for him - and pieced together what his plan was, spreading the rumour that little Qiqi was the means to achieving his goal of eternal life. While the adeptal energy that she possessed was a subject of interest for the doctor, he had no way of tapping into this energy even if he wanted to, despite his hypothesis that she could be the key to his immortality.
Qiqi had been the pinnacle of his renewed lease on life, the turning point that had agitated the waters of stagnation within his psyche. It was serendipity that brought them together, two pieces in the tapestry of eternity that had been woven since the beginning of time. The moment that he had first come across Qiqi picking violetgrass in the mountains one fateful afternoon was one that Baizhu would never forget. From the instant he laid his eyes on the little jiangshi, holding onto her hat so as not to let her precious talismans blow away in the midsummer breeze, he had felt a strong connection to her; not merely because of their shared interest in herbs, but due to the sheer power he felt radiating off of her. He wanted to understand that power, to see if it could benefit him in some way, to lift the curse that had plagued him for so long. Qiqi’s energy was so similar to that of an adeptus, but still different enough that Baizhu could tell she wasn’t an illuminated beast Jueyun Karst. This meant that she could stay with him for as long as was needed in order to piece together her past and tap into that energy, the goal being to ease his eternal pain. It was an easy decision, taking her in as his own. While he had no parenting skills to speak of, he would allow her to stay in his home and employ her at the Bubu Pharmacy to assist him with herb gathering, all the while also hoping to see what exactly those powers were that she wielded.
She hadn’t been in his care long before Baizhu quickly identified her memory issues. It was clear as day to anyone that not only did she have a hard time remembering names, faces, and locations, but nearly every sort of information that was provided to her. This made it difficult for Baizhu to get the information that he needed from her past, his questions often being answered with, ‘I don’t know,’ or, ‘I don’t remember, sorry.’ But while others may have been frustrated with her inability to relay information, Baizhu merely saw this as an opportunity. He provided her with memory training exercises and mnemonic devices; drills she would do on the daily in an attempt to help her better remember the tasks that she was requested to do, and the names and faces of people who came into the pharmacy. It was with the help of these training exercises, as well as a notebook that she carried with her everywhere, that Qiqi was able to begin remembering things pertinent to her job at Bubu Pharmacy.
“...Doctor Baizhu? Can I have a glass of… coconut milk?”
Qiqi’s voice pulled Baizhu out of his swirling thoughts, eyes bleary as his long day at the pharmacy had sent him unblinking into this near-meditative state. He looked down from his desk at the little girl - his little girl - who gazed back up at him with dull, pink eyes. His expression softened when he studied her features, ever placid and unchanging.
“Of course, little Qiqi. Follow me into the kitchen, and I’ll get you a nice tall glass of coconut milk.”
“Not taller than Qiqi… please.”
While the stress of the workday was shaken off as he got to his feet, the words of his patients still echoed in his mind. To Baizhu, perhaps the most egregious of the accusations he had overheard was that he forced Qiqi to work against her will, commanding her to pick herbs day in and day out. What many of the general populace failed to understand was that while most zombies followed orders of others, Qiqi gave orders to herself. That meant that Baizhu could never force her to do something that she didn’t want to do, but he had no way of explaining that to those who thought otherwise. He knew that he took care of her, and that was all that he needed to push the negative opinions of others out of his mind. On days when it was particularly hot or rainy, or he believed Qiqi just simply didn’t need to work, he would pull her close into a hug, softly murmuring ‘I love you the most’, so as to get her to stay at home and rest. He couldn’t count the number of times he had uttered that phrase since the little zombie had first come into his care, as Qiqi often fell into inescapable loops of orders she had given herself, stuck until Baizhu broke her free from them. But with each repetition of the phrase, the effects were just that little bit diminished, leading Baizhu to wonder if he truly was being as sincere as he thought, if this mortal coil he had been damned to was capable of such deep emotion. The centuries leading up to Qiqi’s discovery were empty and hollow for the former Dendro Archon, and he was a shell of who he used to be. The years had burned away much of his love, and the emotions within him that once bubbled forth like a lively stream had hardened to tar under the anguish of his soul.
“I went to the mountains to get some, um… qingxin flowers today, Doctor Bai. But…” Qiqi paused, bringing a finger to her chin in thought. “There were no qingxin flowers. Did I scare them away? I searched for a very long time.”
Baizhu was quick to reassure Qiqi, placing a hand over her own. “You didn’t scare them away, Qiqi. Qingxin are solitary plants, and when you collect one, it will take quite some time for it to grow back.” While he wanted to instil the importance of not over-harvesting into her, he knew that she wouldn’t remember the intricacies of his words. Judging by her response, that usual blank stare accompanied by a reactionary nod, it was likely that she didn’t register a single word.
“Oh. Okay.”
Pulling his hand away, Baizhu studied Qiqi from across the kitchen table, the little jiangshi slowly sipping at the coconut milk that she had no way of tasting. Throughout the time they had spent together, his heart had softened, and he had lowered his guard in order to let Qiqi into his life. Baizhu knew that he adored her and loved her as his own daughter, but at the same time, he knew that he couldn’t tell himself that it was always like this. At one point, he had pushed aside her needs in an attempt to try and get what he wanted, and he didn’t always consider what the outcome of testing Qiqi’s power would be. Staying up late into the night, hoping for some sort of progress when all Qiqi wanted to do was sleep, or presenting her with an intangible sense of dread as she remembered what she felt at the moment she was imbued with adeptal energy, but not what had occurred that day. They would always have to stop early, as Qiqi became overwhelmed to the point where she would simply fall silent. It was in times like those that Baizhu felt like his only hope, his only chance at a normal life was slipping away. The pain that he felt had become too much to bear at times, and he just wanted to find a way for it to stop. It burned from the inside-out, that all-consuming agony of divinity damned to a mortal body, powerless to the forces that ate away at him, replacing his sense of self with that wretched curse forced upon him on the day the kingdom of humans fell. There were times when, with his face soaked with tears of anguish, he would be willing to give up anything just to return to some semblance of normalcy.
But as Baizhu spent more time around Qiqi, he realised that she was so much more than a mere conduit for adeptal energy, a means to his own infinite ends. With each day that passed, he became more and more certain that he wanted nothing but the best for Qiqi, and if his reasons for trying to improve her memory and use her abilities were selfish at the beginning, he had long since lost sight of that desire. No longer did immortality seem as important as it once did, and especially not at the expense of his little Qiqi. He had at first been masquerading as one who only pretended to care about his daughter, but in that quiet moment between them at the dinner table, watching as Qiqi sipped at her favourite drink, it was as though the fog that clouded his judgement and skewed his motivations had been lifted. Sitting before him was a child who didn’t yet know her place in the world. Brought back from the dead by supernatural means, she was imbued with power beyond her understanding. And in her eyes, Baizhu figured that she saw herself as just a normal girl - and why should he deny her the chance to have the normal childhood that she wanted? He felt a smile tugging at his lips, warmth swelling inside of his chest as his heart, which he long since thought incapable of loving, felt an outpouring of emotion to the little zombie. Baizhu looked back at what had changed in his life since he had first decided to take Qiqi in; she had taught him how to enjoy the world outside of his pharmacy, to appreciate what life had to offer, and to create meaningful connections with those mortals from whom he distanced himself, thinking it not worth his time to be around them if they couldn’t understand his plight. Her curiosity and need for adventure had sparked the same within himself, and on his hikes to gather herbs, despite his pain, he pushed himself further than what he previously thought to be possible. Through her, he had learned how to love, and how to feel emotions towards others, freeing him from that spiral of self-pity and endless torment. He felt the overwhelming desire to protect her and care for her, and it was only right that she was made aware of the emotions he had so often hidden away.
“Dearest Qiqi, it’s been a while since we’ve last gone out for a walk, hasn’t it?” Baizhu asked. The question came as a surprise to Qiqi, who looked up from her now-empty glass with a slow, confused blink.
“Did you… want me to keep track of how long ago it was? Um…” Qiqi looked down at her fingers, as though the digits she had depended on for counting so often would give her a clue. “I don’t remember, Doctor Bai… sorry.”
Baizhu let out a good-natured laugh, rising to his feet to run his hands through Qiqi’s hair fondly as he collected the glass. “No, no. I was simply suggesting that we go outside for a while. The weather is nice, and there’s a cool breeze that I’m sure you’ll find favourable. Perhaps I’ll pick up some toys and snacks for you too, if you’re on your best behaviour.” It was no question that Qiqi was well-behaved, and was deserving of everything that Baizhu could afford to buy for her.
But it wasn’t toys or snacks that Qiqi wanted, as she had long since lost the ability to enjoy them. “You’re frail, Doctor Bai,” she noted, as astute as ever. “I don’t want you to get hurt on the walk. Can we sit in the backyard and… watch the finches, instead?”
It took precious little to make his dear Qiqi happy, and with such a simple request, he had no right to refuse. Baizhu offered the little girl a hand, which she happily accepted as she hopped out of her chair. “Now that sounds like something much more pleasant. You’re so very considerate, Qiqi.” And with those words, a tender kiss was delivered to her forehead, genuine and loving. Qiqi appeared to be stunned upon receiving this kiss, a gentle display of affection rarely shown by the doctor.
Her smaller hand within his was cold, nearly stiff with the rigour mortis that always threatened to set in if she didn’t keep up on her stretches. A steady thumb worked carefully over the stiff joints within her fingers, and Baizhu paused for a moment to give her the proper care that she needed. “You know how important your stretches are, Qiqi,” he told her softly, kneeling down and looking into her eyes. Each digit was worked back and forth in tiny increments, until her range of motion gradually increased. The process was repeated on her other hand, and Qiqi looked away, refusing to meet Baizhu’s gaze as though ashamed.
“I’m sorry, Doctor Bai. I… forgot.” Qiqi’s tone, while flat as always, had a hint of guilt and remorse behind it. But the last thing that Baizhu wanted was for her to feel guilty because of memory loss outside of her control.
“Don’t apologise, dearest little Qiqi. We’ll just make a note of it in your notebook to include hand stretches, okay?” He led her through their small home, out through the back door and into the lush grass of the backyard. The small space was filled with vibrant flower beds surrounding a solitary tree. From a lower bough of that tree hung a bird feeder, upon which several finches were perched and feeding happily. They chirped and whistled to express their content with the meal, much to Qiqi’s delight.
The little zombie took a seat in the grass, gazing unblinkingly up at the animals for which she had so much respect and which never failed to fascinate her. As he sat down beside her, Baizhu couldn’t help but admire the way this one activity always seemed to calm Qiqi, no matter how much the weight of her memory loss or her overwhelming adeptal energy seemed to cause her distress. He admired her strength, her ability to push through and overcome the powers that so often seemed to nearly drive her to the brink of madness. He felt compelled to teach her the ways of the world, to show her all the beauty that Teyvat had to offer, far outside the finches that ate from the bird feeder in their backyard. He wondered if this was what it meant to be a father, to have the overwhelming desire to care for and protect, to teach, but also to learn. He would learn to put others before himself, to be patient in his research for something that would cure him of his suffering. He was content to wait, so long as it meant spending more moments like this with Qiqi.
“Dearest little Qiqi.” As Baizhu spoke her name, he placed a hand over her own, eyes cast upwards towards the clear blue sky.
“Huh?” Pulled out of a trance, Qiqi turned her head towards Baizhu questioningly.
“Thank you. I love you.”
So long as he loved Qiqi as his daughter, he was determined to let her know just how appreciated she was, and how much she meant to him. Perhaps she wouldn’t understand it now; it could very well be that she never would.
Qiqi’s hand squeezed tighter around Baizhu’s fingers in response. “I love you too, Papa Baizhu.”
Then again, anything was possible.