Chapter Text
It was one week until the Rite of Descension.
Zhongli looked across the harbor at the Sea of Clouds, beyond which lay Guyun Stone Forest. The sun was rising between its jagged peaks, casting the sky in pink and gold.
It was one week until Rex Lapis died.
His hands folded behind his back, he simply watched. From where he stood atop Mt. Tianheng he could see the entire city. The people below seemed akin to ants, but this did not change how he loved them. The buildings were just roofs of red and green, but they appeared beautiful, even from this height.
He allowed himself a final look at the city not from the eyes of the mortal Zhongli, who walked the streets as those tiny people did, but from the eyes of Morax, Rex Lapis, the god who raised the mountain on which he now stood.
He remembered with clarity the way this harbor appeared before mankind took a single step upon its cliffs. He remembered leading his people, broken and devastated as they had become, to the empty land. He remembered the way they took the pieces of their civilization, of the Guili Assembly, and put them back together.
Strength. Perseverance. Though their lives are short and troubled, they march through the days, relentless. Each one lived to the fullest. They had so precious little time to waste, so they did not stand idle.
Guizhong had once told him that humans were small, as fragile as dust. Nurtured in him the desire to protect, to guide.
Though she was wiser than he could ever be, he now realized she had been wrong. Humans were not small, they were not fragile; one man on his own could build a house, and a hundred could build a city.
Zhongli’s protectiveness had waned - not because he loved them any less, but because mankind no longer needed a protector. The longer he believed that he remained as a guide, as a shield, the less true it became. In truth, the people of Liyue had not needed him for a long while now.
He closed his eyes, breathing in the chill breeze. Even from up here, it carried the scent of sea salt and the faintest traces of street food sizzling below.
Gods were not like humans. Daily life was no toil; they passed through the days without feeling their presence. A day could pass, a week, a month - it felt the same. As his duties shrunk, so, too, did Zhongli’s contentment with allowing time to slip by.
The life of a god in the modern era appeared to be a luxurious and lofty one; in reality, it was a solitary, listless existence.
You’ve finished your duties, go ahead and call it a day.
What a bittersweet thought.
He was no longer necessary. Rex Lapis could die, and Liyue would live on, as she always had. They would mourn the symbol of their nation. But they would not mourn him.
They would come to realize that they did not feel his loss as keenly as they expected.
The thought stung.
Yet, it filled him with pride.
His people had become stronger than himself. The power they held was greater than that of their god. It was primarily due to their own perseverance; as one must train to master the blade, so too did Liyue build its strength.
But he played no small part in this. Some part of that pride was reserved for himself. Never had he let it consume him, but he did not forget his own contributions.
Greater still, the contributions of those who gave their time, strength, blood, tears, lives - all for Liyue’s sake.
He remembered every moment of his long, long life. It was his duty to remember. Every life lost, every victory gained.
A blessing, and a curse.
It was one week until Zhongli was free.
For every selfless reason he had to kill Rex Lapis, there were equal selfish ones. A god’s life passed without meaning in their days. Time blurred together. Administrative work; that was what his duties amounted to now.
He did not regret becoming Liyue’s Archon, not for a moment. But he had grown tired. Though he did not desire a return to tumultuous times, he could admit - he had grown bored.
A small smile appeared when suddenly Hu Tao’s voice came to mind:
“Gee, Mister Zhongli, you sure are eager to kill yourself!”
Morbid as it was, he could not say it was untrue.
He was not worried. Rex Lapis may die, but Zhongli’s life could truly begin.
“Xiansheng! What are you doing all the way up here?”
His smile grew as he turned to face Childe. Speaking of the life he wished to live…
It was six days before the Rite of Descension.
Zhongli gifted Childe the chopsticks.
He didn’t know what he had been thinking. Their beautiful, intricate design and masterful craftsmanship had drawn his eye. The symbolism behind them…
A desire for an auspicious, prosperous union. Such a simple statement that could be interpreted in so many ways.
Zhongli looked forward to their collaboration, of course, both in terms of business and the plans he had arranged many months before.
He also held great affection for the harbinger, becoming fast friends despite the single year they had known each other. In his new mortal life, Zhongli would indeed say Childe was his closest friend and confidante - even if he could not fully divulge all of his secrets, not yet.
However… there was a much more interesting prospect that drew his eyes to the items.
Red and gold; the symbols of a dragon and a phoenix. The most obvious, most intimate interpretation of the items was the desire for an auspicious marriage.
Zhongli was wholly unfamiliar with the intricacies of a romantic relationship. He had no delusions that he and Childe were in one, nor did he intend to propose marriage with the gesture, but it could not be denied that some part of him…
… yearned for the harbinger.
Was it love? It felt too soon to label it as such. A passing fancy? Perhaps. Simply a physical, sexual desire?
…He could not deny that the idea appealed to him. But their connection felt like much more than that.
Hence, the chopsticks.
What answer would he give if Childe questioned their meaning? He looked forward to finding out.
Unfortunately, Childe did not question their meaning, accepting the utensils with a laugh - pleasant to the ears, and beautiful to watch - and saying:
“You’re really serious about this chopstick business, huh? Alright, I’ll put some more effort into it. Thanks, xiansheng.”
Xiangling, however, gave Zhongli a much more significant look. First she raised her eyebrows, then she wiggled them.
He sipped his tea, unable to meet her eyes.
It was five days until the Rite of Descension.
Zhongli and Childe had taken their lunch to his office at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, after a short walk along Chihu Rock led to an abundance of street food being obtained.
It was not Zhongli’s fault that many of the vendors had been experimenting with new recipes lately. In fact, he would blame Childe for indulging him.
And he told him as much, and Childe laughed bright and clear, and he marveled at the sound. Then he tipped his head slightly in confusion, because he had not been making a joke.
Saying as much, Childe laughed harder.
Now they sat in comfortable silence, aside from the sounds of food being enjoyed. The Ferrylady had graciously poured tea for them, and although her skills were slightly lacking in the brewing department, he was delighted with the way Childe eagerly accepted.
Tea, Childe had admitted, was not something he was fond of. ‘Until I met you, of course.’ If Zhongli had been silently pleased at that, it was no one’s business but his own.
“...so Nadia and Vlad have no idea they’re each other’s pen pals, and we all sorta agreed not to tell them, because it is so much funnier to watch them try to figure it out…”
Zhongli nodded along to his stories, a small smile on his lips all the while. It was odd how Childe had him so deeply invested in the office gossip of the Northland Bank, as he never had much interest in gossip of any sort.
Perhaps it was just that he enjoyed listening to him talk. He became very animated when he was excited or emphasizing something. He lowered his voice conspiratorially, as if there was something to hide, when he was sharing a particularly juicy detail about his day. He laughed freely, and Zhongli liked to believe he was one of the only people who saw genuine joy slip past the harbinger’s carefully maintained facade.
Aside from simply listening to his voice, which was youthful and had the clarity of one who was used to performance, Zhongli also had an excuse to observe him under the guise of rapt attention.
The way his flaming orange hair curled ever so slightly in Liyue’s humidity. The way his ocean blue eyes were lightless as the abysmal depths, but curved into cute crescents when he smiled, and sparked with fervor as his excitement grew - particularly when discussing his most recent victories in battle.
The freckles spattered across his nose had gotten darker and more numerous during his stay in Liyue, Zhongli noted. He did not seem to tan, but the light rosiness of his cheekbones was evidence of his time in the sun.
Maybe he should pick some qingxin and use it to make a cooling sun cream he had learned of long ago. Surely Childe would appreciate such a gesture; it was the least he could do, after all of the generosity he had shown.
“...Zhongli? Do I have something on my face?” Childe swiped a thumb over the corner of his mouth, making sure there was no food left behind.
Zhongli blinked. He had been staring - how impolite of him. “Ah… no. My apologies, I seem to have been lost in thought.”
More importantly - did Childe just call him Zhongli? No xiansheng on the end of that?
…Interesting. Zhongli wished he would do it more.
And he said as much.
Childe huffed a laugh. “What do you mean? Isn’t it more appropriate to use ‘xiansheng’?”
“Perhaps it would be, if we were not friends. However, I believe we are far beyond mere acquaintances.” Zhongli took a sip of his tea; still warm. It had a minty aftertaste, but the primary flavor was zaytun peach. It was quite delicious, brewing methods aside.
Hm. Were Childe’s ears burned, too? They seemed to be a little pink on the tips. Perhaps he should get that qingxin.
“Ah-hah, right, of course. We’re friends.” Childe laughed again, almost nervously.
Zhongli frowned, ever so slightly. Had he said something wrong? He felt they were quite close; did Childe feel differently?
There was a slight pang in his chest. “It is up to you how you refer to me, I just wanted you to know there is no need to be so formal with me.”
“Y-yeah, of course. Zhongli.” Childe gave him a bright smile.
Zhongli smiled back. That was more like it. When Childe was happy, he was happy.
Such a simple thing. Living as a mortal was already opening his eyes to many new experiences.