Chapter Text
Venti slipped through the crowded, bustling streets of Liyue, little more than a ghost. Cloaked in the shroud of his winds, he may have well been. It was rare for him to travel exclusively for Archon business, yet here he was. Jean had all but ordered him to go. He had, of course.
He’d been restless, wings twitching. Feathering, as Jean and Lisa liked to call it. Especially when he considered the number of Anemo feathers he left behind. Better than real feathers, but still. Initially, he’d been looking for Zhongli but had gotten sidetracked. By the tune of a flute in the wind.
But, unfortunately, there was only one person who knew it. Or fortunately, in this case. He was intimately familiar with the melody, and few could understand the depth it carried. Except, perhaps, the person he’d written it for. Smiling, he let the wind take him onwards.
It wasn’t a surprise to find Xiao perched on a rock, but it was surprising to see him in the Harbour. More so with company. Said company? Madame Ping and little Yanfei, but it still counted. Rarely did his yaksha look so at ease, even among his fellow adepti. Sad, but true.
The breeze ruffled Xiao’s hair with nary a thought, and he giggled to himself as Xiao stopped. The flute he held to his lips lowered, and golden eyes opened. Just a sliver, but he knew. Oh, he knew. A ghost of a smile played across his face, and Venti spun around him, chirping a greeting.
He settled into a gloved palm as he dropped his invisibility, eyes crescent-shaped in delight.
A sigh ruffled the silence, and his wings buzzed at the rueful expression that crossed the yaksha’s face. Resigned, exasperated, surprised. Fond. Venti ignored the startled murmur from Yanfei and bounced up into a float, hovering at eye level with Xiao. Before zipping in to nuzzle his cheek. A whisper of wind? The lightest butterfly kiss. Affectionate. Understanding. And a hello.
“Hello, hummingbird.”
It lacked the usual gruffness. Instead, there was a slow trail of contentedness weaving a melody through Xiao’s voice. A bridge of hope, underscored by thoughtful notes. Whatever had happened in the Chasm had been good for his yaksha. Despite the heart-stopping moment when he’d felt Xiao falter. The flicker of his power, a candle burning low.
The arc of Morax’s power as it surged.
Xiao was safe and doing well. Better than he’d thought he would be. It was good. Good for his tired wind sprite’s heart. To be bolstered by the quiet emotion Xiao let him see. Backflipping through the air, he gathered his power and in a flash? Set himself in the tree above with a laugh.
“Hello, Xiao. You called for me, did you not?”
“Not intentionally.” A huff, just shy of an eye roll. “I was not expecting you to be in Liyue. Has something happened? It’s summer; surely not even the Traveller could find themself entangled in some mess. Unless they are? Or are you here to visit and make a menace of yourself?”
“The Traveller?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Aether is a trouble magnet, fledging. They have, of course, found trouble. I’ll tell you later if you’d like. But no, I’m here to see Zhongli. And maybe kick him in the shins. …Oh, don’t glare at me like that. The blockhead deserves it.”
The sound of a heavy book falling cut off the growl curling the yaksha’s lip, and they both turned towards it. To Yanfei, flipping through the pages. Madame Ping chuckled, soft, fond, and delighted, hands folded in front of her. Even as Yanfei turned back to them, brow furrowed.
Oh? What was this, now?
“Although there’s no official record, I recall overhearing some Northland Bank employees discussing an elaborate pair of chopsticks that Consultant Zhongli gifted the Eleventh Harbinger. The consultant was, after all, the main liaison between the Bank and Qixing. However -”
The book snapped shut and disappeared. When it appeared that Yanfei couldn’t continue, Madame Ping picked up the thread of the tale. Sighing, she shook her head. Swirled the remaining tea in her cup. Amused, without a doubt, by what she knew. Uh-oh. Not good.
Nervous now, he sat up straight. Well aware of the tension radiating off Xiao as he clutched his flute in a white-knuckled grip. He could almost hear the wood creaking in protest from here. Swallowing, he returned his attention to Madame Ping, ignoring the swoop in his stomach.
“I can attest this myself - the chopsticks were simply yet finely made. Master Zhongli has excellent taste. So far be it for me to question why the chopsticks were patterned as they were. Surprising though it was. Dragon and phoenix chopsticks, after all, are nothing small.”
Venti doubled over with a wheeze, trying to maintain his balance. …Composure, Barbatos. Composure. Dragon and phoenix patterned chopsticks? For the Tsarista’s Eleventh? A Harbinger? Vennessa’s tailfeathers, what a riot. Swallowing hard, he dropped down to land next to Xiao. He hadn’t been expecting that tidbit of information. Not in his wildest dreams.
And neither had Xiao, judging by the expression he wore. It was rare - so very rare - to see Xiao so open. Expressive. But right now? His confusion and shock were plain to see, as was the gleam of anger in his eyes. Xiao didn’t get along with the Harbinger, the one the locals called Childe. So much so that sparring with him? Forbidden. Outright, per his Archon’s command.
“Um, I wasn’t here to ask Zhongli anything about that. I didn’t even know. That he was, for all intents and purposes, engaged to a - Ah. To a Snezhnayan diplomat. No, no, I was here to ask his opinion on something. Aether has gotten themself entangled in another mess, you see.”
Oh, lovely. His shock was audible. Wincing, he cleared his throat awkwardly. Cheeks colouring and heat licking up the back of his neck, Venti looked away. Only to look back, surprised, when Xiao’s free hand clamped around his forearm. Stone-faced he may be; there was a twitch there.
Most notably, an involuntary one. Little more than a shiver, but to Venti? It was extremely telling. So he did what he could. And by that, he rotated his wrist, palm up, as Xiao’s hand slipped down his arm. He entwined his fingers with Xiao’s gloved ones; brushed a tender breeze past.
A silent reminder to breathe.
Right now, however? He kept his eyes on Xiao as he squeezed his hand. Reassuring him that it was okay, that he wasn’t alone. Golden eyes turned to him, and his heart somersaulted in his throat at the film of unshed tears there. Sun warm leather against his skin, holding tight.
“I need to go. My apologies, Ping, but I can only tolerate the Harbour for so long. Thank you for the tea. …Yanfei.” A pause, brief and clipped. “It - was good to see you again. Pass on my greetings to Yelan when you see her. She knows where to find me if she wants to talk.”
Yanfei offered him a smile, her nod solemn. “Safe travels. You’re welcome to come again. Send word ahead; I’ll get Xiangling to make Grilled Tiger Fish for you. Or not, if you would just prefer Granny’s tea. Granny and I would enjoy it - not many of her old friends visit these days.”
“I… would be amenable to that.”
The Chasm had been good for Xiao. Definitely. He had people he could rely on once more. Good. It wasn’t the same, but nothing ever was. That was the way it went. But not all changes were bad. No matter how scary they may be. Xiao had answers now. And hope for the future. Most important.
Venti inclined his head, asking the yaksha beside him a silent question. At Xiao’s answering blink, he smiled. Pulled him to his feet. First, Bubu Pharmacy to gather herbs. Then the Temple of the Yaksha. He hadn’t been since the restorations, so he was curious. But from what Aether said, it was beautiful. Of course he’d go. Pay respects.
Afterwards?
They could see about getting some Grilled Tiger Fish for lunch. Xiangling’s Grilled Tiger Fish, specifically. Madame Ping’s student was an excellent chef, if not a little unconventional. Venti’s mouth was already watering at the thought of the Jade Parcels he’d heard so much about. It had been quite some time since he’d had proper Liyuen cuisine.
Then - well.
A visit to Wangsheng Funeral Parlour was due.