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There was a period of time before that historic Rite of Descension and before his retirement from godhood when he bore neither the title of “Rex Lapis” nor “Consultant to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor”. The name Director Hu referred to a graying man with wispy hair instead of his peppy granddaughter, who at the time had only just turned six, and it wouldn’t be until years later that the Tsaritsa would send her vanguard from Snezhnaya after his gnosis. In those days, he was only Zhongli, the simple man, living out the mundane rhythm of his life on a fixed routine.
And on Sundays, Zhongli, the simple man, would spend his morning volunteering.
“Mr. Zhongli.” A small hand tugged at his tailcoat right as he reached the base of the stairs leading up to Wanwen Bookhouse. The second son of Feiyun Commerce Guild was always the first to arrive, and like always, he had dragged his friend from the exorcist clan along as well.
“Your manners, Master Xingqiu,” Mr. Xu, the boy’s attendant immediately scolded.
“Apologies. Good morning, Mr. Zhongli.” Five-year-old Xingqiu let go of his coat and dipped his head in apology. Zhongli couldn’t help but smile in amusement at the sudden display of diplomacy from such a small child, but the look of enthusiasm immediately returned to his face the second his attendant turned to leave. “What book are you going to read for us today? If you haven’t chosen yet, can I choose one? Please?”
Zhongli chuckled as he and the two boys started up the stairs. “I have made my selection for this week already, I’m afraid,” he said, smiling sympathetically as Xingqiu’s shoulders immediately drooped in disappointment. He held up the volume in his hands so that the two boys could see. “The sequel to last week’s story. I wanted to share it with you all while it is still fresh in your minds.”
“Last week’s…? Is this one about the Yakshas too?” Chongyun excitedly asked.
“It certainly is.”
“So another action story then?” There were practically stars in Xingqiu’s eyes as he eagerly skipped ahead up the stairs, passing Zhongli in anticipation.
“Actually, no,” Zhongli said softly, as he traced the cover of the worn book with his fingers. “This one is more of a romance.”
“Oh…”
“Gross.” Zhongli chuckled as Xingiqu wrinkled his nose and Chongyun’s face immediately fell. “I was hoping you’d tell us another story about heroes and fighting evil,” Xingqiu pouted.
“Hmm,” Zhongli hummed as he pondered this thought. “Well, I hope that you will find that there is some sort of value to be found in every story, Master Xingqiu,” he finally said.
They made their way over to their usual corner of the bookhouse, on the balcony overlooking Feiyun Boulevard. The two boys rushed to help Jifang, the owner, set up the area, bringing out chairs for the children to sit on. Xiangling arrived shortly after, young Yun Jin came in pulling Xinyan by the hand, and Dr. Baizhu swung by to drop off Qiqi.
And last to arrive, as always, was Hu Tao, who had come skipping into the bookhouse so eagerly that she forgot to say goodbye to her grandfather. She also immediately climbed into Zhongli’s lap, but because the young girl had recently developed a habit of pulling on his hair and his tie when she thought the story was going too slow, he plucked her off and picked up Qiqi instead.
“A sequel?” Six-year-old Yun Jin had asked as Zhongli introduced today’s story. “Father never told me there was more to the Yakshas’ story.”
“This legend is a little lesser known,” Zhongli explained, as he opened the book. “Now, can anyone tell me how last week’s story left off?”
Hu Tao’s hand immediately shot up.
“They all died!”
“You can’t say ‘died,’ Hu Tao,” Xingqiu frowned. “You have to say ‘passed away.’”
“They didn’t all die,” Chongyun corrected. “Um, I mean, ‘pass away.’ The Conqueror of Demons was still there.”
“Very good, Chongyun,” Zhongli nodded, and Chongyun sat up a little straighter with pride. He held the book up and flipped it outward towards them so that the children could see the illustration on the page. Green streaks of ink cut through the page, depicting the Conqueror of Demons as he banished hordes of corrupted monsters. “The Vigilant Yaksha was the sole survivor of the original five guardian adepti Rex Lapis had rallied to subdue the lingering spirits of the evil ancient gods.”
He flipped the page, and the next image showed the Conqueror of Demons, crumbling to the ground, covered in blood as red ink slashed through his body. “But even as one of the most powerful of the adepti, in the end, he could not fight off the karmic debt that the other Yakshas had succumbed to, and soon, he found himself facing his inevitable end as well.”
Xingqiu sighed. From Zhongli's lap, Qiqi tugged at his sleeve until he turned the book back around so that she could see the image as well.
“Sir?” Chongyun’s brows knitted. “But I thought the Conqueror of Demons was famous because he’s still alive today.”
“He is—Or so many like to believe,” Zhongli chuckled lightly. “For one night, in Guyun, under the full moon’s glow, right as the adeptus fell to the ground in agony from the hundred years of hatred, the sound of music saved him.”
“Music?” Yun Jin blinked.
“What kinda music, Mr. Zhongli?” Xinyan asked excitedly.
“The music from a Dihua flute, to be precise,” Zhongli answered, turning the page to show a new illustration where the Vigilant Yaksha was standing upright, gazing into the night at a figure cloaked in green.
“A hero!” Xingqiu’s face lit up as he leaned forward.
Qiqi’s eyes widened as Zhongli showed her the picture. “He…hero?”
“Yes, a hero,” Zhongli said, though he couldn’t help the way his mouth twitched kind of funnily at this title. “A neighboring Archon, to be speci—”
“An Archon?!” Xiangling exclaimed.
“Which one?” Hu Tao demanded.
“He said neighboring, so Mondstadt, maybe?”
“It can’t be—Barbatos isn’t even around.”
“I’ll bet it’s the Cryo Archon. Isn’t she the goddess of love?”
“He said neighboring—”
“The most we can do is speculate,” Zhongli said, cutting them off. “It is only a legend after all, but the gods do like to keep their secrets.” His golden eyes twinkled. “At any rate, the Archon stayed with the adeptus until the first light of dawn, healing him with his music. The adeptus, too, had figured out by then who it was that had saved him, and he left before sunrise, deeming himself unworthy of such attention from the greater divine.”
Flipping the page, Zhongli continued. “Over the course of the next several years, the Archon kept returning to play their music for the adeptus again, and each time, in turn, the adeptus would disappear before sunrise, unable to bring himself to face his savior.
“Then one evening, after a particularly gruesome night, the karmic debt became too much to bear. The adeptus faints to the ground, unconscious. His body is moved, and when he wakes up, it’s to the sound of the most beautiful voice and to the sight most beautiful face gazing down upon him.”
Zhongli paused, frowning slightly as he rubbed the knot in his temple. “Or at least, that’s how the book likes to describe it.” An uncharacteristically strong gust of wind blew Qiqi’s hat into his face.
“How romantic,” Yun Jin sighed, and Xiangling giggled.
“Mmm.” Xingqiu pouted slightly in his seat, but his feet still kicked upwards eagerly as he listened to the story.
Zhongli chuckled. “Of course, the adeptus had been caught off guard having woken up under the care of a foreign Archon, but his physical form was still weak, and the Archon insisted that he rest. They stayed by the Vigilant Yaksha, singing their songs and caring for him until he was healed.”
“Healing…” Qiqi mumbled after him. “Songs…”
“Say, Mr. Zhongli,” started Hu Tao as she narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “You seem like you know these two fellas pretty well… Almost as if you’ve met them…”
“I am very well read,” Zhongli hummed as he turned the page, continuing. “Though his conscience plagued him, the adeptus stayed. For the first time in centuries, the yaksha allowed himself to get close to another, and the feelings were as unfamiliar as they were lovely. It was as if he were learning again how to fly—”
“Adepti can fly?” Xinyan asked.
“The Conqueror of Demons’s true form is a garuda,” Zhongli explained. “A sort of bird.”
“I bet he tastes even better than chicken,” Xiangling dreamily sighed.
“Xiangling, y-you can’t eat an adeptus!” Chongyun stammered, immediately reddening in panic, as Zhongli shook with laughter.
“I’m afraid to say you wouldn’t be the first to attempt such a thing,” Zhongli laughed as he addressed Xiangling. “The gods of the past tried many means to get rid of them, but I would beg you not to, Xiangling. Liyue still needs the protection of its adepti… for now, at least,” he muttered, filing that thought away for another time. “Where was I? Ah, yes…”
Zhongli’s voice softened, as he traced the edges of the book with his thumb. “For two immortal beings over hundreds of years old, it was only a couple of days that it took for them to fall in love.”
“Awwwwwww…” Gushes and coos sounded through the children. Hu Tao giddily kicked her small feet into the air. Xingqiu rested his head on Chongyun’s shoulder.
“How romantic,” Yun Jin sighed again.
Zhongli gave her a sad smile. “Unfortunately, Miss Yun, I’m afraid their bliss was short-lived,” he solemnly continued. “In time, the Archon’s nation fell to terror, and their people needed the protection of their god. Meanwhile, because the adeptus had neglected his duty, Liyue was overrun with monsters, and Rex Lapis was very angry. He did not approve of the foreign Archon, to begin with.”
“Rex Lapis is a poo head,” Hu Tao muttered.
“Hu—Hu Tao!” Chongyun looked as if the Geo Archon could smite her at any given second. His face was as red as a Jueyun Chili. “You can’t say that about Rex Lapis!”
“Poo head!”
“He never was known for being the most benevolent ruler,” Zhongli agreed, feeling very amused, and Chongyun looked appalled at how lightly the grown adult in this situation seemed to be taking everything. “Though he may be thousands of years old, even now he is still learning and growing, just like all of you.
“That is all,” he concluded, shutting the book in his hands and picking Qiqi up off his lap. “Though it may not be quite as famous as the last—”
“Wait, what?” Hu Tao interrupted.
“What? That can’t be all!” Xingqiu stood up in protest. “What happens next?”
Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “The adeptus and the Archon are torn apart by duty. There is no ‘what happens next,’” he said. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips at the look of pure disappointment on the boy’s face. “I didn’t take you for one to be engrossed in such frivolous romance stories, Master Xingqiu,” he lowly chuckled, and Xingqiu’s face turned pink.
“This story blows,” Hu Tao huffed.
“Hu Tao!” Chongyun panicked.
“What animals are the other adepti?” Xiangling asked.
“So they’re just separated forever, then?” Xinyan frowned.
“Hm…” Eager little faces stared up at him as Zhongli stroked his chin in thought. “Some say…” he began quietly, “that on full moon nights when the winds of Guyun carry over the sound of the Dihua flute, that’s the sound of Archon, calling back to his lover, promising one day that he will return.
“But who knows? It is only a legend, afterall,” Zhongli chuckled. “Though hypothetically speaking, for a reunion to happen between two such duty-bound guardians, there will have to be a moment of true peace—”
“But Mr. Zhongli,” Chongyun suddenly interrupted. “If one day, Liyue no longer needs its adepti, do you think the Vigilant Yaksha can visit the Archon again?”
Zhongli’s blinked in surprise as he met the young exorcist's genuine gaze.
If Liyue no longer needs its adepti… Centuries ago, this would have been unheard of…
“Not in my lifetime,” a voice suddenly cackled. From the entrance of Wanwen Bookhouse, an old man with wispy white hair peeking out under his hat stood with the rest of the guardians as they waited to pick up their children.
“Grandpa!” Hu Tao cried. Director Hu grunted as his granddaughter tackled him with a hug.
“Hu Tao,” he scolded, patting the small girl on the back. He shook his head, chuckling as he gazed down at the child. “But perhaps it’ll happen in yours. Liyue has seen much change in its many years of history… Wouldn’t you say the same, Mr. Zhongli?”
“Grandpa, today I learned that Rex Lapis sucks!” Hu Tao was singing as they both turned to leave. “He hates true love! I could never work for him like the adepti. I’d make him work for me instead!”
“Rex Lapis does not ‘suck’, Hu Tao,” Director Hu laughed, and his crimson eyes crinkled as turned his head around to peer at Zhongli, smiling at him kindly. “He is just learning.”
Right as Zhongli was about to bid them farewell, he felt a small tug at the back of his tailcoat.
First to arrive, last to leave. Ignoring Xu’s calls, five-year-old Xingqiu was looking up at him, brimming with determination.
“Mr. Zhongli,” Xingqiu said. “When I write a book, it’s going to have heroes and action and romance and everything… And you have to read it, okay?”
He felt his gaze soften as he looked down at the boy, and he patted Xingqiu gently on the arm.
“Very well then,” Zhongli said, smiling as he waved goodbye to the children he knew would one day make up Liyue’s everchanging future. “I have all the time to look forward to it.”
* * * * *
“...and I’d say they quite enjoyed Legend of the Sword,” Zhongli mused as he gently blew on his sweetflower tea. “Little Meng even asked for a second volume. I may just have to visit the guild to ask Master Xingqiu that myself,” he chuckled.
Several years had passed since Zhongli had promised five-year-old Xingqiu that he would read his book someday. The one they called Rex Lapis had been pronounced dead. The name Director Hu now referred to an eccentric young woman who had taken the post after her late grandfather had passed. He was now no longer Zhongli, the simple man, but Zhongli, the esteemed consultant to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
And these days, Zhongli, the consultant, felt more at ease than he had in centuries. Even the neighboring country of Mondstadt had finally resolved its conflict with the Stormterror. For the time being, all was finally at peace.
“Hmph.” From by the railing of the balcony, a handsome young man with sharp eyes crossed his arms. Yellow leaves from the sandbearer tree that made up the foundation of Wangshu Inn danced in the early evening breeze around them. “Better than the adepti fanfiction you used to read.”
Zhongli smiled wryly as he brought his tea up to his lips. “Perhaps, but I like to think that there is some sort of value to be found in every story.”
Xiao didn’t reply. He had never been a man of many words, but today, he just seemed distracted as he stared off into the distant scenery in silence.
“So that’s how I’ve been doing,” Zhongli said, observing him carefully. His karmic debt seemed to have subsided significantly compared to days before. “Now tell me about you.”
The deceptively young man stiffened.
“I’ve been the same,” he said, huffing slightly, as he turned away so that Zhongli was now staring at his back. “Even with Liyue under the mortals’ guidance, it’s not as if I can hand off my duty completely.”
When Xiao didn’t say anything else, Zhongli waited patiently, watching two birds as they flew by before disappearing amongst the yellow leaves. Then—
“He goes by Venti now.”
Zhongli blinked in surprise. The back of Xiao’s neck was looking a little pink.
“It’s a silly name, isn’t it?” Xiao scoffed. “Venti…”
“It’s not as if he was ever been known for being serious,” Zhongli pointed.
“No,” Xiao mumbled in agreement. “He spends his days getting wasted in taverns, his songs slander his own name, and he was thrown out of his church for stealing his own lyre,” Xiao said, scowling as he turned back around, but his eyes never left the tower that marked the ruins of Old Mondstadt.
Warm winds from the north tousled his teal-streaked hair. Xiao sighed, and the look in his piercing eyes changed as quickly as the winds as he leaned over the railing of the balcony, eyes forever fixed on those unreachable, distant lands.
“Perhaps the one thing that will never change is that I’ll never understand him at all,” he whispered into the breeze, his voice infinitely softer than a moment before.
It would have seemed as if the young man wanted some time for himself. Zhongli polished off his tea, conveniently forgetting to pay the bill as he got up to leave. It was still light out; he’d be able to make it back to the harbor before it was too dark. Perhaps he would go invite the Tsartisa’s vanguard out for drinks again before his leave to Inazuma.
As he set off on the dirt path, he turned to look up at the great sandbearer tree once more. From the grounds outside the inn, even just as a speck on the balcony, the Conqueror of Demons could still be seen gazing out northward toward a foreign land, with all the time in the world to wait for his love’s return once more.