Chapter Text
For some reason, the sliver of light leading into his bedroom caught his eye. A small thing compared to the darkness surrounding the room, permeating from the night outside. In here, there was nothing but the calm sound of cicadas and the occasional ruffle of his bedsheets under him.
Out there…
Out there was nothing but the tense yellow of candlelight, tightly articulated laughter resounding from his father's office. The anxious bustle of staff members cleaning up after their parents' dinner party.
Loud and tense was all it was. Too much. All too much…
---
“Such doubt my dear Chongyun!” Xingqiu snickered as he walked with a casual yet sophisticated posture, completely contradicting his teasing tone as Chongyun gave him a disapproving glance from the corner of his eye.
“My doubt isn’t based on nothing; you remember the last excursion we went on chasing one of your ‘leads’?” Xingqiu obviously recoiled at the memory. How they ended up in a Hillichurl camp was beyond him.
Mirth danced between the two friends' eyes. Their relationship was a strong one. Both spoke their words with value and weight noticed by all those around them. But the natural push and pull of their conversations was something uniquely reserved for them alone.
The two were finishing up a small commission Xingqiu had picked up. With his family's importance in Liyue it was natural for him to be running around for things like this, even if his family didn’t always approve of his methods. Chongyun always made doing his dutiful work more entertaining and left a skip in his step in being able to pursue his passion while having his most trusted companion with him every step of the way.
They walked into town a bit more, tired from the adventure. Xingqiu glanced at Chongyun as they walked, the wind blowing his hair against his nose making him scrunch it in agitation. Xingqiu suppressed a giggle, failing miserably as Chongyun shot him another annoyed look.
“Stop that.”
“I’m sorry dear Chongyun,” Xingqiu started.
“It's just-” He cut himself off as his body was rocked by more giggles till he was clutching his stomach with a wheeze. Some of the people from the scattered shops stared at them as Chongyuns face went red with embarrassment. Pulling out a popsicle idly to calm his temperature back down.
“You’re ridiculous…” he bit out. The comeback lacking.
“Only for you dear Chongyun!”
“I’ve had enough heart attacks from your ‘ghost visits’ that would beg to differ.” Xiangling’s voice chimed in behind the counter, arms crossed, and chubby cheeks puffed out in exaggerated annoyance.
He might have had a habit of tormenting Xiangling with his jump scares, but it was all in good fun.
Xingqiu chuckled, at ease around Wanmin Restaurant. The writer in him couldn’t help it! The warm lighting, and even warmer company from Xiangling and her father was something he’d always look forward to.
“What are we having for the day, boys? You know I was recently adventuring down by the chasm for some unique mushrooms that the traveler had mentioned-”
“Is that safe?”
“Is that even legal?”
“Shush shush both of you!” Her spoon swung at them as they both squawked, dodging the leftover soup on the weapon. They took that as their cue to take their seats, wary of the ever-vivacious girl.
“Apparently they’re attached to these boars and were really hard to get but I would love new sampler-”
“I’ll have my usual order of the mountain delicacies please.”
“Just some jade parcels from me please.” Xingqiu’s placid smile stood comically plastered on his face while Chongyun’s calm stood undisturbed on his face.
Xiangling huffed “Your loss,” she turned to start making their dishes instantly, getting to work with the supplies they had in stock. “Maybe I could get XinYan to try them….” her voice was lost to the sound of her work as Xingqiu took a breath of ease. Letting the sounds of the harbor blend together. This restaurant was such an important part of all their lives. It always had been, ever since they were young kids. Getting to relax next to it, the promise of food on the way, was a feeling like no other.
He sunk into that feeling and only realized that he had done so physically when he felt himself resting against his companion. Chongyun knew how touchy Xingqiu could be by now but still stiffened at the weight. Yet, neither of them could bring themselves to pull away. Xiangling set a cool drink down with a knowing look at the two.
Thankfully Xingqiu missed that look on account of his impromptu nap but, the same couldn’t be said for Chongyun who’s face matched the heat coming off the restaurant both in color and temperature. He took a quick swig of the glass before finding a diversion.
“I don’t normally see that bag with you Xingqiu. You usually like traveling light during commissions.” At that sentence Xingqiu bolted up at that. Right, the bag. He pushed humor to the forefront of his face. His well-known mischievous grin looping upwards.
“Alas my various professions have come to bite me,” Chongyun immediately rolled his eyes at the theatrics.
“The job of a chivalrous guild member! I’m afraid my duties are never quite over. Plus, how could I hold my honor as an avid book reader if I wasn’t always prepared!” He stated with a sway in his body as if to enunciate his troubles. Hand over heart.
Although that wasn’t necessarily a lie, he always had a few books on hand at a time. On one memorable occasion he had pulled one out of his sleeve mid-conversation and received the fabulous sight of Chongyun performing a spit take on Xin-Yan. But he was known for ditching his guild responsibilities, or at least going about them in round about ways. He hoped Chongyun didn’t see through that flaw in his lie.
Really it was nothing to be embarrassed about. Some of the greatest writers and historians were known to keep a log. Or in Xingqiu’s case…a diary. In his defense this was the first time he had ever kept one. But Xingqiu knew his friends well enough to know how much they would tease and really, he didn’t know how he’d be able to handle it over something so important to his writing.
His editor had said that while his last draft was whimsical like all fantastical stories should be, his newer stories lacked proper passion and drive. She had also not held back with the continued jab at the lack of social skills Xingqiu possessed.
‘I’m not saying that you don’t know how to talk to people, you’re very obviously well read and mature. (When you want to be left unsaid) But when was the last time you had a conversation with someone without pretending like you were a prince out of a book?’
Xingqius' embarrassment was answer enough.
So, boom, he now harbored a diary in his satchel that felt like it would burn out of his pack from how intently he kept thinking about it.
“More books, really now?” Chongyun glanced at him as he paused from his drink unconvinced. “Which books do you have exactly?” His glacier expression only disturbed by the minute raise of an eyebrow. Xingqiu would wax poetic about it if he wasn’t so worried about keeping his secret. Lucky for him, navigating conversation was his specialty.
“Now dearest Chongyun, if I didn't know any better, I’d say you just wanted to hear my lovely voice reading to you.” His sly grin at the diversion could put the conniving street cats to shame.
Chongyun sputtered as if burned as he choked on his drink. Xingqius' laugh rang out across the streets, some other Wanmin guests giving them strange looks at the racket. He rested his head on his hand as he gazed at the spluttering mess who was his friend with a fond last giggle. He pushed the napkin over towards Chongyun who grabbed at it frantically trying to salvage some dignity.
Xiangling came to the rescue in the form of food and saved Chongyun from his display before running off to help the other customers at the front. The shop was always packed at this time of night, everyone eager to get their fill of dinner.
“At least it wasn’t a spit take this time.” Xingqiu was elbowed hard for that one.
—
To be fair he supposed he deserved it this time. He snuck away again without permission. But who would want to be stuck in a stuffy room with adults when he could be out and about making real change? Xingqiu couldn’t help but see the benefits, I mean, he and Chongyun had stopped a group of treasure hoarders who had been posing a threat to some of the townsfolk in Liyue for weeks now! He had even smoothed things over with some of the travelers who had lost valuable merchandise. All over the cover of anonymity of course. A Chivalrous hero doesn’t need praise for carrying out their rightful duties.
He should know better by now the type of response he would receive but he knew in his heart what was right. The young clan member was steadfast in his beliefs.
(His mother would say stubborn, he would say passionate.)
Xingqius' mood soured as the night took over the last remaining embers from the sun. His foot kicked at a stray rock on the red plaster. Head up even though he wanted to watch his feet while he walked.
He had still accomplished his work as a guild member. The commission was just his way of gaining intel and performing infiltration. He had done it before with the traveler, and he’s proven himself time and time again. His work has been praised by many in front of his parents. Even his revival of the Guhua arts. He wasn’t one for praise but surely his parents would see the fruits of his labor. He wasn’t all talk like some of those other stuffy “diplomats”.
They would understand, he reasoned. At least a little bit. But Xingqiu knew a placating lie whenever he saw one. Even when it was from himself.
He was greeted by Xu on his way in who held his tongue as he entered.
That was a bad sign.
Usually, he would be receiving a lengthy reprimand from him for mysteriously disappearing and then reappearing again. He craved that now as he anxiously took those last few steps into the house. This silence meant Xu received orders not to engage. This silence meant tension. This silence meant mother. Part of the boy wished time would slow enough so Xu could yell at him. Xu lecturing him was always better than the alternative. But that was only wishful thinking.
The door closed with a small thud. The sitting room was vacant, but he saw the yellow of candlelight casting shadows in the walkway that led to the tearoom right across from him.
She hadn’t spoken yet. But she didn’t need to. There was no doubt she was waiting for him, and he would be a fool if he kept her waiting.
The room was rectangular, only housing a table and a potted plant off to the side. He immediately spotted the large window taking up room on the long wall across from the door. Ordinarily it was used for sophisticated conversations during the early mornings and afternoons. The window allows for the soft rays of morning sunlight to dance around the room in soft hues. He often imagined a young princess having her afternoon tea here, stealing away from her studies, maybe even flirting secretly with a knight. It would put his mind at ease, but it wasn’t morning. It was night and the light wasn’t coming from the window, it was coming from his mother. Candle put freshly center of the table as she sat ramrod straight against her chair at the head.
“Xingqiu, please sit.” she sipped idly from her teacup, closing her eyes as if to enjoy its fragrance. She appeared the epitome of calm.
Pain flickered through his fingers as he clenched his hands. Under the table of course.
“Drink your tea before it gets cold. It would be a shame to waste it.” He hadn’t even noticed the servant had poured it already. His mood soured. He usually thanked them before they left.
He drank the tea, trying not to grimace at the lemon in it. Oh, Xingqiu hated lemon. He finished about half of it before his mother set her cup down one final time on the saucer. Taking the time to fold in her hands before speaking. Allowing time to stretch out with a constant ‘tick’ ‘tick’ from the clock in the other room. She turned slightly to gaze at him. He tried not to show how much he wanted to shrink into himself.
“We’ve had this conversation before, have we not Xingqiu?”
“Yes mother,” he answered immediately. Subtly checking to make sure he was sitting up straight.
“Good. So, you know what this conversation is about then?” His blood ran cold.
“Yes, mother but I don’t think-” she tilted her head, and he halted a bit.
“You don’t think what? That you weren’t ignoring your duties again? That you didn’t disregard them simply because you wanted to go adventuring with those friends of yours again?”
“I accomplished my duties for the day, I was able to track down the reason for the recent dip in several trading services and traced it back to the interference of a singular group of treasure hoarders. This is why we’re seeing unease in various trade partners of ours, which was my goal to figure out this evening.” He stated.
“I am aware of your requirements for today. I was the one who assigned them,” She sent him a pinched look. “I’m no fool Xingqiu, we both know about your…proclivity, for mischief. You spend too much of your time wasted on pranks. Do you expect me and your brother to hold up the weight of the guild by ourselves? It’s hard enough with your father overseas, especially with Lantern Rite coming up around the corner-” Xingqiu almost balked before jumping it.
“No that’s not it, I make it very clear to myself not to mesh my work and my mischief, it’s part of my chivalrous code-”
“What have I told you about interrupting?” He shut his mouth so hard an audible click sounded out from the teeths impact. “See this is exactly what I’m talking about Xingqiu. How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Her voice began to raise slightly as did her visible exasperation.
The candle flame flickers between the two of them as silence blanketed over Xingqiu’s mistake.
“I am being generous with you Xingqiu. This family is built on our hard work ethic. We have worked this way for generations, and I do not approve of you footling about in this manner. We have rules and traditions that you must up-hold and if you want to succeed in this family, you will follow them.” Her gaze had never left him but with those final words it seemed to press down onto him, as if he was being gazed upon by a deity, and not the benevolent kind.
Xingqiu’s will shriveled up. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t do this to upset her or disrespect her in any way. Did she really think that? War raged inside his head as he fought with himself. He meant no disrespect; he didn't mean that at all. His chivalry wasn’t for nothing, all he wanted was to help people in his own way. Maybe he was being disrespectful. Who was he to take charge like this? He may be the second heir to the commerce guild, but this selfishness was no way to act. Even though his mind settled on that it still didn’t feel completely right…
Another beat of silence.
Quieter now she spoke, "Don’t even get me started on that ‘chivalrous’ nonsense. You need to let go of those childish fantasies of yours, honestly…” She sighed with a cross from her arms closing her eyes with the full body weight of exasperation. Xingqiu didn’t dare make a sound.
Xingqiu really wished she would stop.
“What do you have to say?”
Xingqiu had been in trouble enough times before to know what came next. He was ashamed but he continued on even though his stomach flipped uncomfortably.
He bowed his head as he spoke, not looking up from the table. “I apologize mother, my actions disrespected you and the guild by extension. I hope you can forgive my actions.”
“Go to bed, it’s late.”
“Yes mam,” Xingqiu all but bolted up the stairs. If you could bolt upstairs gracefully.
He only breathed properly once his door was shut and locked.
—
His back was to his door. The boy didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he felt that familiar burn in his lungs. He held it for two seconds longer, the pain grounding him, before exhaling. His body sank with that release as he curled up on the floor. His breaths occupied the room. Then the sliding of his shoes on his feet. His legs prickled uncomfortably with the need to take them off, but he didn’t dare move. Shoes weren’t supposed to be worn inside, but staying quiet right now was more important.
He looked up, the room's emptiness was solidified by how it echoed the sounds of the harbor filtering in from his window and the sparse noises coming from him. Everything was covered in a dark blue. He let himself drown in it. Like he was a fish sinking to the bottom of the ocean. The only thing combatting that peace was his ever-beating heart. So rapid. Sharp. Like the color yellow. Like candlelight.
‘Don’t even get me started on that ‘chivalrous’ nonsense. You need to let go of those childish fantasies of yours, honestly…’ He bit the inside of his cheek.
Chivalry wasn’t childish. HE wasn’t childish.
‘I am being generous with you Xingqiu.’ He rocked back and forth with his face smashed into his thighs. Tears were streaming down his face as he swallowed down all of his cries and hiccups. His throat burned.
Childish.
‘We have rules and traditions that you must up-hold and if you want to succeed in this family,’ his mind repeated. Like he wouldn’t be a part of it if he didn’t listen. He bunched up his sleeve before shoving part of it in his mouth as he cried harder.
He was too sensitive. That's all it was. Just him and his bleeding heart making him feel too much. She was right and he knew that. He just needed to get over it. Who was he to argue with his mother? She obviously had more experience, she was the parent, he should know better than to question what she asks of him.
‘But why won’t she let me speak?’ He told his mind to shut up.
‘Shouldn’t she want to see my point of view and help me grow?’
He screamed, muffled into his sleeve.
No. NO. He was being childish, he needed to stop crying. Stop crying.
‘What do you have to say?’ Xingqiu stayed like that for a long time.
—
He doesn’t know how long he was laying on the floor for. At some point he had fallen over, head smashed against the cold uncomfortable flooring. But eventually he was able to pick himself back up. His brain was too wired to sleep, even though he was told to do so. His mother hardly ever went into his room so he should be fine. He lit the oil lamp on his desk before slowly sliding into the wooden chair. Freshly cleaned up from his crying and changed into his timelier night clothes. He was thankful to finally have the energy to take off his outdoor shoes.
He was trying to heed his editor’s directions as he tapped the end of his quill against the diary. It was true Xingqiu spent too much time in his head. His mind flashed back to a few hours ago and he unconsciously tightened the grip on his quill.
Maybe he could write today's events into a story? A dashing night facing a fearsome dragon.
The candlelight flickered and he cringed, shaking his head furiously at the silly thought.
‘Childish…’
What precisely had his editor said?
—-
‘Xingqiu, do you know what a diary is?’ She questioned as her glasses slid slightly down her nose. Her eyes appeared bored by the conversation, but Xingqiu knew her well enough to know that she just had one of those faces.
‘No offense Ms. Zhou, but a diary isn’t a very new concept to me.’ He giggled.
She gave him a pointed look that held no weight before continuing. ’Let me rephrase, do you know why people use diaries Xingqiu?’
‘Well, there have been a few diaries that have become popular historically because of what they represented at that point and time. For example, there are some from the early Fontaine days that show the building of the country and its focus on justice. However, those diaries only really cover the personal perspective of civilians. If you wanted a more thorough analysis on the justice system and how the archon works within it, you’d be better off picking up a historian's dissertation.” He finished crossing his legs where he sat, next to his editor.
She leafed through a few of the documents strewn about on the table. Xingqiu doesn’t think he’s ever seen her not idly working.
‘Precisely, diaries stand out so much in literature because it’s personal. We get to see difficult life changing events from the perspective of an average person. Diaries are also first and foremost for the people writing them. They are emotionally driven and even though the famous ones hold lots of historical events, many average people keep diaries. It’s quite a popular pastime.’
‘Why exactly are you asking about this Ms. Zhou? You don’t exactly seem the type to keep a diary.’ He mused jokingly.
She rolled her eyes looking up from her work briefly, ’I believe last session we discussed your first idea and draft for your new novel.’ Xingqiu shrunk down, twiddling his fingers as he remembered the exchange. His editor held no punches, and his first draft left a lot to be desired…
‘Don’t be hard on yourself, I know that look, the first draft is meant to be rough.’ She wrote something down on the parchment in front of her before dropping her pen. She folded her hands on the table resting her head on them. He now had her undivided attention.
‘I want you to start keeping a diary.’
—
‘Personal,’ he thought. Right, this was to help him with his dialogue. To center himself and allow him to see things from the real world. He couldn’t always run to his stories. Easier said than done. Although there was serious doubt that this was what his editor meant.
It felt like a betrayal almost as he stared daggers into the parchment. Glaring at it as if it was the cause for all his current misfortune.
‘What do you have to say?’ But that was just it. When have his words ever held any weight? When has she ever truly heard him? It was a cruel joke she played. Acting as if he could say anything he wanted to her, and she’d listen. Or that she would even let him in the first place.
Even though his crying fit had ended, he still felt dragged down by the weight of it all. His limbs felt tingly and dull, but his chest was still pounding. It ached worse than when he got stuck fighting abyss mages with Chongyun.
Chongyun, that's right. His dearest Chongyun. He wished he could tell him about this. But he had his own problems with learning how to control his yang energy, and training under his aunt and that Vigilant Yaksha. Xingqiu bet that his problems in comparison seemed trivial. Besides, it was his duty as a friend to be a beacon of helpfulness.
As he was having these thoughts his quill moved on its own. He looked back down at the parchment after a while and was shocked to find words freshly drying.
‘Dear Chongyun’
Talking to Chongyun was always easier. He was such a good listener. Calm yet chaotic, in his own way, though he doubts that many other people besides himself would think so. Maybe this way he could still stay strong. He didn’t have to betray his code for burdening his friends and he didn’t have to worry about his mom finding out. I mean his handwriting was horrendous according to his dearest Chongyun. He can simply hide it from her. Keep the book on him 24/7 so she’ll never find it.
Besides, if he were to truly ever be honest with himself, he’d admit that it was becoming all too much to hold his tongue.
Journal Entry #1:
“Dear Chongyun: Did you make it home okay? Right about now you’re probably asleep. I kind of wish you weren’t. Knowing you, you’d be scolding me for my awful sleeping habits again. Saying how important it is for my health, all the while nose twitching in concern. God you’re nothing alike. How do I know it’s concern on you. How is it so easy to read you when the both of you hardly show your emotions on your face.”
“You’d probably make fun of the ink that dried on my face. Then double over laughing because I’m trying to frantically wipe it off. Then maybe I’d wish…”
Harsh streaks of ink blotch out the next thought. "Sometimes,” another scribble. “Sometimes I wish you could tell what was going on here. Like you can see straight through me. Is it wrong to be slightly angry that you can’t. You’re my best friend, I would never expect you to save me. But I’ve found it’s really hard to lie to you my dearest Chongyun. I wish you would whisk me away from here. Like a gallant knight in all those Fontaine storybooks I’d read when I was little. Please please,” Tear droplets are what ruin the next word and he ends up having to start over. “Get me out of here Chongyun please.”
Xingqiu doesn’t bother signing the bottom of it. He no longer has the energy. Silent hoarse sobs rack his body as he hits his writing arm.
‘Crying like a child’ he thinks, ashamed. He doesn’t know why he expected Chongyun to appear suddenly in his room, fantastic white steed and all. That’s what does him in. Because he’s still wishing for the impossible. Because it hurts that having Chongyun here now is unrealistic.
That night Xingqiu falls asleep at his desk. If the gods were ever nice to him, he’d actually end up dreaming of Chongyun clad in armor, sheltering him like he craves. That night, like every night, his dreams are filled with filling out paperwork, or talking through business meetings. Oh, how Xingqiu hates dreaming.