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There is no avoiding death. Nor predicting its time.
In the stillness of the universe, Hu Tao walks among the vast, empty world, where her memories reside. It would end before she knew it, yet she cherishes them still.
Past voices echo in the chamber, sounding distant but not entirely unreachable. She recognizes them from the back of her mind, and her heart aches at the thought of never coming back.
However would she enjoy Xiangling’s delicious cooking again? Were she to cross to the other side right at this moment, everything would be forgotten. She won’t be able to watch Yun Jin’s beautiful opera, and Gaming’s spectacular Wushu dance. Or annoy the Conqueror of Demons again, perhaps tease him a little bit…
Your sacrifice meant nothing because you came back to life. Do you know how that feels?
Xiao only scoffed as a response. He never really entertained her playful behavior, but that was something he didn’t recall having told her. You pry too much. Of course, he also knew she meant no harm when she said it. ‘Sacrifice’ and ‘nothing’ don’t belong in one sentence, after all.
When she left, the first thing she did was question Zhongli. Even if the man was nowhere to be found, she can always locate him — opera and tea are the only other things to entertain the consultant’s mind. Sprinkle a little bit of history; and Hu Tao can irritate him about it all night.
As this moment remains, and the memories blur together, she can recall the three moments it took her to realize just how much she reveres him.
The first time was when she came to understand him as a person. There is such an oddity coming from him, an ancient wisdom only those with great minds can comprehend. For his knowledge in history while barely living past quarter a century, she thinks he’s peculiar. How can a person know so much, yet has lived so little, to be able to remember important details of the past not many are aware of?
But then, he tells her his life is nary as interesting as hers. He is just a consultant, and him recalling these things matter not. They sat down over tea and talked about it, as if they were old friends. He had treated her like an equal, and her respect for him had only grown stronger.
How do you remember all that? She asked one day.
Zhongli only smiled. Well, Director, where do I put it all down, if not in my mind?
Strange, she thinks. For a man to have such an awful memory regarding mora and the process of any business transaction requiring it, he sure remembers a lot.
Put down mora in your mind, then! She jutted out her tongue. The parlor can’t keep paying off your bills!
His laugh was rich and gravely in her ears. She wanted to hear more of it.
Of course, Director Hu. I try.
A tear slips from her eyes, sliding down her cheek in an unsightly manner. She can’t justify herself, she doesn’t cry that much. This is for the greater good, it should be. She moves to wipe it off, but the tears don’t stop. They keep coming as if a stream, a river, is suddenly flowing.
She doesn’t want to die, she doesn’t….
Didn’t she say it herself? There is no avoiding death.
My thoughts about death?
Zhongli’s voice comes to her, as if a reminder. (Of everything she will lose, which one will she hold most dear?)
Hm, I have only one. I believe death is not the end, merely the beginning of something new. In the end, it’s just another path we all must take, much like the journey before us.
She blinks, the realization hitting her like a shock. It’s no wonder they had this conversation in the beginning, it all accumulated to a point. There is a reason behind every action, and a result, whether it is positive or negative, dictates not the morality of the deed.
So what if it’s a sacrifice? It’s for the greater good. It’s what the job entails.
She helps people cross the border — just when it’s her time, why is it so hard to do so?
[Follow your heart, and do what you can.]
Ah, that must be the second time. It’s so recent, yet it means everything. She’s trusted him enough to let him be the next director if anything happens to her. If she doesn’t come back, that is. How hard can it be? A life for the mending of the border. The souls of the dead deserve to go on without worldly affairs in their way.
And thus, it is her job to make sure it stays like that. Even if her memories are diminished, no matter the circumstances, and damned be her own life, they are above her will; she cannot let the living die and the dead roam in the place of the living.
Or else, she’s not really doing her job as the director of the parlor, is she?
She continues to walk, the creaking of the wood beneath her does nothing to soothe the fright in her heart. The bridge is beautiful, and so is the building in front of her.
You undermine your deeds, Director Hu.
Aish, she can’t get him out of her mind!
(She doesn’t think she wants to — this realm is so dark, and she is so alone. She knows not whether she needs him or her grandfather more.)
The voice continues.
Know this: what you do is a beautiful thing. You represent everything that is right and sacred in the form of funeral rites. Thinking so lowly of yourself will only do you more harm than good.
She was joking, by the way. So that was the third time, when she treated him to a meal after a successful business transaction. A funeral that went properly; not very rarely, but not common either. It was his knowledge that helped them where they are now, and where she is, well, she can’t think of anything more suitable than thanking him for the hard work he’s done.
I hope this isn’t too much. Zhongli said, as if anything could be too much for him. She knows that he delights in the art of enjoying great cooking, so the coyness coming from him was deliberate.
Hu Tao waved her hand. Nonsense. Your help was much appreciated, Zhongli. It’s only right I do this.
Morality is subjective, Director Hu. The man blew on his tea, closing his eyes as he did. The sight never fails to amaze her, never fails to make her heart stir. I am grateful, but I wish not for something like this to happen again. If each time I give my consultation, you reward me with good price, does it not count as more of a trade than me simply doing my job, then?
She tilted her head. He thinks too much. Why does it matter? Can’t a boss just treat her employee to a meal? You’ve become so serious all of a sudden.
He did not respond, but the smirk he displayed betrayed his face. Very well. How foolish of me. I shall enjoy this meal from now on.
Hu Tao grinned. Mhm! Eat up! You’re so lean, the wind can carry you away.
Yes, after all, why does it matter?
Death is not the end. It’s merely the beginning of something new. She is not afraid of death, only the threat of forgetting everyone she has ever loved. The people closest to her, that are special, she’s scared that she will not be able to remember them. If death is not the end, she hopes they won’t forget her, either.
In front of her, two figures stand still. They have the faces of the dead, her family; her father and grandfather.
Grandpa, and Dad… she starts. The tears have stopped, but the pain in her heart remains. Even if she seeks relief, she doesn’t believe she will find it here.
Are you here to take me to the other side? She asks. How’d I do as director, huh? Did I do the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor proud?
Her father’s warm, hearty smile reminds her of him.
Absolutely. You did a million times better than me.
Our little girl is the best, says her grandfather.
She is glad. Turns out, she’s not that disappointing. Who would’ve thought, huh?
Hu Tao returns their smile. Good, then, I can join you with no regrets.
[Except…]
No. She mustn’t think of him. Not when the two figures that mattered most in her life are here, welcoming her. She has to find relief somehow. Nothing good will come out of regrets, not a single thing to cherish.
We’re proud of you, little lady. Her father continues. But we only came to see you because we’ve missed you.
Her thoughts race in her mind. What does that mean? Can’t she cross to the other side? Did something happen again with the border? Damn it, if only she had done the job right.
I’ve missed you, too… But are you saying… you’re not here to bring me into the afterlife? She is confused, how will it work? Does she get to return?
Live in life, and die in death… Her grandfather replies. My child, your time has not yet come.
Yes, the day of reunion will come in good time. There is no need to rush. Her father said. It’s uncanny, it’s almost similar to what Zhongli told her.
Her grandfather glances to the sky. Look, someone’s here to take you home…
She follows his gaze, and finds a plum branch flying out to her open hand. When she accepts it, the figures in front of her have disappeared in a glow — a fleeting light that is almost beautiful, except it is sad.
As she stares at the branch in her grasp, she blinks and discovers it’s turned into a hand instead. When she looks up, Aether’s eyes stare back at her with such intensity, and pulls her closer.
Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Aether says. The small smile almost breaks Hu Tao’s heart. Even in this state, he is ready to do anything to protect the ones he loves.
Come on, everyone’s waiting for you. He continues, barely hopeful.
Hu Tao has never been more happy at a prospect. She realizes this is her chance, either she seizes it or something like this will never happen again. She will never see anyone again if she refuses to fight, she will never see him again…
Finally, she nods.
Aether pulls her with him to the portal as hard as he can.
—
“Happy Lantern Rite!“
Zhongli does not budge from his seat. It seems as if he’s expecting her. The kettle gives nothing away, though, even if there are two glasses on the table. Hu Tao supposes he must have had a guest previously.
“Ah, Director Hu. Come sit.” He gestures to the chair across him in a gentlemanly manner, like always. The tea is still hot, when he blows it, it reminds her of the times they’ve spent together just talking over tea.
She does as he speaks, because she wants to, and because the stage of the Lantern Rite can be seen from up here — it’s beautiful, but not more than the man in front of her. She can stop with the silly jokes, yet she doesn’t feel like it. It’s been quite comfortable, this way. A near death experience surely does nothing to your mental health, right?
“You know, I’m quite surprised that this is the first thing you do after what happened,” she crosses her arms, fakes a pout. Here comes her blabbering, “weren’t you even remotely concerned that I almost died? You’re not a good consultant!”
He chuckles, and the sound is heavenly in her ears. “My, my. I do apologize, Director Hu. But you thought so lowly of me.”
She only raises her eyebrow, wants to dispute him. Alright, she didn’t mean it that seriously—
He is faster when he speaks, “of course I was concerned about you. It is no mere thing, facing death and still being able to live. I do not imagine it is easy. You did great, Director.”
He sips his tea, like it’s a usual Monday morning. As if she wasn’t in the border between life and death yesterday, as if the traveler didn’t go through hell and back just to rescue her.
He sips his tea, calmly.
She wonders if anything has ever fazed him. Surely there must be one thing? If her near-death experience isn’t, then what would it be?
“Heh, you underestimated me, Zhongli!” She holds her chin high in a faux display of confidence and hopes it’s enough to fool him; that she’s more alright than how she appears to be.
[It’s not, but she doesn’t know that.]
“How so?” He asks. “I have always believed that your destiny is something great, Director. You are meant for something more, and you have proven that yesterday.”
She glances at him. He’s not looking at her, damned that tea is, but her expression turns sour and she wants him to notice.
Even if she is glad that he praises her, wouldn’t it be greater that his concern for her was real?
“Well, weren’t you worried about me, like at all?” She hesitates. “I just thought that, uh, since I almost died, you…”
She shakes her head, and clenches her hands into fists.
Zhongli’s movement stops mid-air, holding onto the glass like a frail, broken thing. It’s surprising how a question would render him frozen, but it’s him.
He is full of surprises.
She awaits his response, then. It could be a no and she would laugh it off, or it could be a yes and she would… be happy? Blush? Tease him for it?
Honestly, she has no idea what she’d do, if the answer is positive. She expects a tease back, a dismissal perhaps, at her playful gesture. Maybe a don’t make fun of death when you’ve been face to face against it or something like that.
With how stoic he is, the answer could be anything cold.
But to her bewilderment, it goes the exact opposite.
“Yes, Director.”
Zhongli looks up, and he stares at her. His gaze is full of warmth and the smile that he puts on feels more real than the casual expression he has every day. It’s a small smile, not a smirk nor a full-on grin, but it’s enough to make her heart flutter.
“Of course I was worried about you, why wouldn’t I be?”
[Follow your heart, and do what you can.]