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The child has no home and no name. If he ever had either of these things, he does not remember it.
He is seen as something of an ill omen in his village – born under an unlucky star, he hears the more sympathetic voices whisper. Their superstition makes them cruel. The unkind ones throw rocks and sticks; the less unkind ones call him names and spit on him. Perhaps the worst ones are the ones who pretend he doesn’t exist at all. Derision, hate – these things are easier to understand than outright denial.
It drives him to flee the village in the early spring of what he guesses is his seventh or eighth winter, setting off for the city of stone and splendor in the southern reaches, whose people are watched over by the god Rex Lapis. Perhaps living under the protection of a god will keep him safe.
He takes what sustenance he can from the land and eats the early springtime snow to fill his aching belly when there is nothing else. His feet blister and bruise as the soles of his shoes tatter to shreds. There’s little reason to struggle so much to survive, but something drives him forward, some animal urge to avoid death, and it leads him to the outskirts of Liyue Harbor just as the beating sun of summer starts to give way to the gentler winds of fall.
The moment he crests the hill is nothing any of the meager words he’s learned can describe. The glittering jewel of the harbor glows in the setting sun, reds and golds tucked into a cradle of stone alongside Mount Tianheng. The city Rex Lapis built is grand indeed. Surely there’s a place here, even for something like the child?
So distracted is he that he doesn’t notice the footsteps behind him. His only warning is a low laugh before a rope whips around his chest and yanks tight.
“Where’s your mommy, little stray?” a voice asks mockingly.
The child isn’t stupid. He knows that children go missing sometimes – that there are people who take them. He thrashes against the rope, but his arms are bound too tightly to his chest to keep his balance, and he tips onto his side with a yelp.
“He’s a bit dirty,” another man says. “But we can clean him up nice. Harbor’s no good for this sort of thing, but we can find someone who wants him by the border. They always need laborers.”
“You’re right that the Harbor is no good for this sort of thing,” says a new voice entirely. Unlike the two men’s voices, this one makes the child go still against the ground. It’s like this voice makes the earth itself tremble.
It seems to have a similar effect on the man holding the child’s bindings, because his hands are shaking enough that the child can feel it through the rope. “Wh—who—”
“I am Rex Lapis,” the newcomer says, as strong and inevitable as the quaking earth. “And my people are not for sale.”
The child watches, shaking in awe and fear, as the man – the god – as Rex Lapis, god of stone and contracts, steward of the harbor the child hoped to call home, pulls a spear of cor lapis from the ground and throws it squarely through the child’s captor’s chest.
The child’s captor tumbles to the ground with a gurgle. Ropes loosened, the child takes the opportunity to wriggle across the grass, away from his other assailant.
“Oh, no you don’t,” the other man says. He hefts his greatsword and gives it a mighty swing, aiming for the child – but Rex Lapis catches the blow with his arm before plunging his spear through the man’s chest.
“Slavers,” Rex Lapis mutters, shaking the blood from his weapon before allowing it to dissolve back into the earth. “This close to the harbor. I will need to advise the Qixing.”
The child has never spoken to a god before, and he is terrified of offending. Not once has his presence ever been welcomed, nor his words appreciated – but he saw the blow Rex Lapis took. He wouldn’t have gotten hit if it weren’t for the child.
“M… most honorable…” The child’s voice dies in his throat when the god turns to look at him.
Rex Lapis’s eyes are not unkind. It’s not what the child expected from a god, especially not one that killed so efficiently.
“Yes?” Rex Lapis prompts.
“I… this lowly one…” The child stumbles, trying to remember how people usually debased themselves before a god. “…this lowly one wished to ask if… if your lordship was alright.”
Rex Lapis blinks. He is silent for so long that the child is sure he’s trespassed somehow, and his lips are just starting to part around a desperate apology when the god speaks again.
“You are asking if I am alright,” Rex Lapis repeats. “Little one, surely you know what I am.”
The child manages a jerky nod. “I—this one is sorry to—to have insulted—”
“I am not insulted,” Rex Lapis says, much more softly than before. He kneels before the child, and the child’s heart drops in dismay as his beautiful coat drags in the dirt. “You have surprised me. It is not often that a mortal asks after my well-being.”
“You were hurt,” the child whispers. “Protecting me.”
“Hurt?” Rex Lapis chuckles. He rolls up his sleeve, revealing a glossy expanse of black and gold – veins of cor lapis lacing up obsidian skin. His forearm, which had taken a blow that would have broken a bone on a lesser being, bears only a small scratch. “I am not hurt, little one. But your concern warms my heart.”
He takes one of the child’s small hands in his own, cupping it between his palms. It is more gentleness than anyone has afforded the child in a very long time.
“What is your name?” Rex Lapis asks.
The child flinches, dropping his gaze in shame. To be unnamed for so long is to be unloved. Unwanted. If even his fellow mortals reject him, how can he expect a god to even look at him?
“Little one,” Rex Lapis says, more gently. “Do you have a name?”
“…no.”
“That will not do,” Rex Lapis says with a frown. He strokes the scarred backs of the child’s hands, thumb rubbing thoughtfully over a particularly deep gouge. “You have endured much,” he murmurs. “Too much for one so young. But you have endured it beautifully, and your kind spirit has survived.”
The child ducks his head. “You— you flatter—”
“I speak only the truth,” Rex Lapis says firmly. “You will bear the name Xiao from now on, for a spirit that has borne suffering with strength and dignity. Carry this name with pride, and do not forget your gentle heart.”
It’s too much. It’s a gift that the child – that Xiao – cannot repay. “My lord—”
“Shh.” Rex Lapis cups Xiao’s cheeks in his hands. “I am merely repaying the kindness you have shown me. Consider it a gift from your god if you must, but know that it is given freely.”
Tears spill over Xiao’s lashes, which Rex Lapis catches with his thumbs before leaning in to press a kiss to Xiao’s forehead. Xiao closes his eyes under the warm, comforting touch, letting out a gasp as he feels something sink into his skin. It’s not painful. It feels like an embrace, a firm hand, a gentle burn.
“So you will always remember that you are favored,” Rex Lapis murmurs. “When you forget, your reflection will remind you.” He pulls back to meet Xiao’s eyes, and seeing his smile is like being warmed by the sun. “Find the temple at the bottom of the mountain. They will take care of you. Live happily, my Xiao. Live well.”
With a shift of the earth beneath Xiao’s feet, Rex Lapis is gone. But the mark of his favor remains on Xiao’s forehead, along with the memory of his warm smile.
The unwanted child’s life ends that day, replaced by Rex Lapis’s Xiao. This life is a gift from a kind, benevolent god. Rex Lapis told Xiao to live happily, and nothing makes Xiao happier than devoting himself in service to the god who saved him, who called him one of his people, who said in no uncertain terms that Xiao’s life was not for sale.
He finds the temple to Rex Lapis at the base of Mount Tianheng. It is the most ancient of Rex Lapis’s temples, and it is beautiful – its large, swooping roofs glitter with gold, and its pathways are lined with gilded lanterns. Well-tended flowers bloom in gardens that loop around the massive clawed feet of dragon statues. Guards keep watch at the arches, and they block Xiao’s path as he approaches.
“State your business,” the one on the left says.
“I… I…” Xiao swallows. He glances to the side as a woman passes by the guards unhindered. “I wish to join the temple.”
“You?” The guard looks him up and down. “What, as a temple maiden?”
“Jianzhe,” the other guard – a woman – says with a sigh. “We’ve had plenty of people seek shelter at the temple. All are welcome here.”
“I don’t like polishing up street trash to offer to our god,” Jianzhe says. “Fine. Bring him to the head priest.”
Xiao ducks his head in thanks as the woman leads him into the heart of the temple. The inside is even more impressive than the outside, and he catches sight of beautiful youths in plain, modest hanfu milling about inside. One kneels at an altar lighting incense; another sweeps the entryway. His heart thumps with anticipation. The temple already feels like home, like he’s being cradled in Rex Lapis’s stone arms.
The head priest is much kinder than the guard outside. Xiao knows little about the practice of temple maidenhood other than what rumors he’s heard about the Rite of Descension in his village – sacrifices in white, swathes of bare skin, purity and bodies offered up willingly to the god they’ve devoted their lives to – but the priest explains it to him.
“The devotees in the service of the Temple must be maidens, pure and untouched,” the head priest says. “For their bodies and souls belong to Rex Lapis until the day upon which they choose to leave their service.”
Xiao flushes, but he is undeterred. “I already belong to Rex Lapis,” he says. “I only want to join the temple to prove it to him.”
The priest looks him over with worry. “This isn’t your only option. We can find an orphanage to take you in. You can’t be older than ten.” His gaze falls on Xiao’s forehead, and his eyes widen. “Oh…”
Self-consciously, Xiao touches the mark on his forehead – the mark of Rex Lapis’s favor.
“I see,” the priest says with much more confidence. “But you must understand – you cannot simply leave once you have devoted yourself to the temple. Every maiden must be offered to Rex Lapis at least once before they may choose to leave, and you cannot be offered before your sixteenth name-day.” He hesitates. “How… how old are you?”
“…eight?” Xiao guesses, based solely on the priest’s estimation and his own fuzzy memories. No one has ever counted his name-days for him. He has a vague idea of how many summers he’s lived, how many winters, but his memory only goes back so far.
“Eight,” the priest says. He seems to be writing in some kind of book. “And your name?”
This, Xiao can offer proudly. This, his god gave to him. “Xiao.”
And so Xiao’s life as Rex Lapis’s devotee, a temple maiden belonging body and soul to his god, begins.
As one of Rex Lapis’s maidens, Xiao lives well. The temple staff teach him how to read and write, to better serve Rex Lapis should he be chosen as his bride. He tends the temple grounds, helps with the cooking, and organizes the offerings. He has a warm place to sleep and clean clothes to wear.
It’s menial work. Sometimes boring. Sometimes grueling, if the older maidens shoulder him with the undesirable jobs. But it’s more purpose than Xiao has ever had in his life, and the peace he finds in serving Rex Lapis in even these small ways is immeasurable.
The years pass. Xiao grows into himself and into his confidence. He treats his scarred body with as much care as he can, dreaming of the day he might offer himself, pure and beautiful, for Rex Lapis to take. He refrains even from indulging in self-pleasure, though it’s not forbidden by the rules of the temple. His pleasure is Rex Lapis’s to give and to take, should Rex Lapis deign to do so.
Every year during the Rite of Descension, the temple offers its maidens to Rex Lapis for his consideration. And every year, Rex Lapis abstains.
It is not necessarily a cause for worry. Rex Lapis protects the city all the same, whether he finds a bride to his liking or not. The temple records show that there have been many long stretches of time during which Rex Lapis took no sacrifices at all.
The other maidens worry, but privately, Xiao scoffs at their fretting. When he comes of age, it will not matter whether or not Rex Lapis deigns to take him as his bride. His devotion is not contingent on receiving anything from his god in return. There are people at the temple he considers his friends, but his heart and his love are for Rex Lapis alone.
These are the gifts Rex Lapis has given him – a name, a home, a purpose. Xiao needs nothing more from his god. Besides…
Xiao ducks his head as he lights his incense for his morning prayer. Besides, if Xiao isn’t mistaken, Rex Lapis’s eyes have only been for Xiao these past few years.
Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but ever since Xiao has begun to grow more beautiful, more like a man than a boy, Rex Lapis’s gaze seems to turn more and more towards the young maidens at the back of the procession, rather than the sacrifices at the front. His cor lapis eyes seem to search for Xiao, softening when they find him. Xiao can almost hear his voice – my Xiao, how lovely you’ve become. How beautiful, just for me.
He touches the mark of favor on his forehead and smiles, small and private. Wishful thinking or not, warmth curls up in his chest as happy as a cat at the thought of his god desiring him as much as he desires his god.
It is Xiao’s sixteenth year, and his eighth year at the temple. The night before the Rite of Descension is, as always, abuzz with excitement in the maidens’ quarters.
Xiao had been mostly immune to it the years prior. It always make his stomach leap to see his god, of course, but when he was too young to be chosen, there was little to do but watch Rex Lapis and yearn. Tonight, though – tonight is the night before Xiao’s debut as a sacrifice, and he can’t help but enjoy the warm coil of excitement in his gut.
Shyly, Xiao remembers all the times that Rex Lapis’s gaze drifted behind the line of scantily-clad sacrifices to look at Xiao in his modest hanfu. Perhaps he’d been imagining it, but… perhaps not. Perhaps Rex Lapis has been waiting for this moment as much as Xiao has in his secret heart. Perhaps Rex Lapis will sweep Xiao in his arms and throw him onto a marital bed and claim him as his own.
What will it feel like? Xiao has never even indulged in his own touch, let alone another’s. He can’t even imagine what Rex Lapis’s hands will feel like on his body. His face heats up as he unfolds his sleep clothes, preparing to undress for bed even though he doubts he’ll have an easy time sleeping. The three other maidens he shares the room with chatter amongst themselves, too used to Xiao’s reserved nature to try to involve him in the conversation.
A knock comes at the door, and it opens a crack. Jianzhe’s head pokes in.
“Xiao,” he calls. “The priestesses need some last-minute help with the offerings. Can you come with me?”
Xiao tilts his head. He’d thought that the priestesses had already sorted all the offerings in preparation for tomorrow’s Rite of Descension. Perhaps one of the merchants from the docks brought theirs in late. They tend to bring a lot. Maybe it’s too much for the priestesses to handle at the end of a long day.
“I can come too,” one of the other maidens pipes up, but Jianzhe shakes his head.
“Just Xiao is fine.” Jianzhe jerks his head out towards the hallway. “Come on.”
A little uneasy – Jianzhe has never liked him, for whatever reason – Xiao sets his sleep clothes back on the bed and follows Jianzhe out the door.
He isn’t leading Xiao towards the main temple where offerings are left. “Jianzhe?” he asks tentatively as they wind down yet another hallway leading away from the inhabited parts of the temple.
“Be quiet,” Jianzhe says. He pulls Xiao into a room and shuts the door behind them. It’s one of the smaller rooms for private contemplation – soundproof by design to allow for deep meditation.
“Jianzhe,” Xiao says again, nervous. He backs towards the door and bumps into another body.
“Going somewhere?” the other guard asks. His voice and face are familiar, but he’s never introduced himself to Xiao.
Jianzhe wrestles him down onto the rug, hands wrapped in a bruising grip around Xiao’s narrow hips. “God’s favorite,” he sneers. “Every year, we have to watch him overlook our children just so he can look at you.”
Xiao tries to thrash in his grip, but the other guard grabs his wrists and slams them to the floor above his head.
“The devotees in the service of the Temple must be maidens, pure and untouched,” Jianzhe recites. “For their bodies and souls belong to Rex Lapis until the day upon which they choose to leave their service.”
The realization of what is about to happen slides down Xiao’s spine like icy water.
“No,” he whispers. “Please…”
His body is the only gift he has to offer Rex Lapis. No hands have ever sullied it, not even his own.
“With you ruined, he’ll have to turn his gaze elsewhere,” the other guard says. “Don’t take it personally, yeah? Maybe you’ll even enjoy it.”
Jianzhe rips his clothes from his body, yanking them out from under Xiao’s struggling form and tossing them to the side. He huffs out a derisive laugh at what he sees.
“Look at this tiny cock,” Jianzhe says. He pinches it cruelly between his thumb and forefinger, and Xiao wails at the sharp pain that shoots up his body. “What were you planning to do if Rex Lapis chose you? Fuck him with this little thing?”
Xiao sobs, wordlessly shaking his head. He’s never even touched his cock before, let alone thought about what he might do if Rex Lapis took him to bed. His body has only ever been his god’s, but now—
Now, Jianzhe shoves his cock in with no preparation, ripping away the purity Xiao had protected so tenderly. Whatever sex is supposed to feel like, it isn’t this. It can’t be this. Everything Xiao has read called it beautiful and pleasurable, called it intimate and healing, but this—this is violence.
He cries out. He bleeds. Jianzhe laughs when he finishes inside Xiao’s previously untouched body, and the sticky warmth of it sits like rot in Xiao’s belly.
“Back to bed with you,” the other guard says dismissively, tossing the discarded clothing over Xiao’s shivering form. “Big day tomorrow.”
Xiao sobs. Jianzhe and the other guard leave, stepping over his body and closing the door behind them. There’s no remorse. There’s hardly even an acknowledgement of what they’d just done. Like Xiao is trash – less than trash. He’s never felt this way under the light of Rex Lapis’s protection, and it hollows something out in him to feel so ruined.
The other maidens are blessedly asleep when Xiao finally staggers back to his room. Shivering, sick, body and soul hurting in equal measure, he drops his day clothes onto the ground and shoves them under his bed with his foot. He shrugs his sleepwear on, wincing as it brushes across the bruised and bloodied parts of his body. Something wet is trickling from his hole, and he can’t tell if it’s blood or spend or both.
Tomorrow, he will offer himself at the Rite of Descension, used and ruined and impure of body. Tomorrow, his life will end.
He’s usually the first one up in the mornings, but when his roommates rise and begin to get ready for the day, he hides under the covers for as long as he can. Excitement for the Rite has turned into dread. In as much privacy as he can manage, he performs the traditional ablutions to prepare to be offered – scented soaps and oils to soften his skin and hair, makeup around his eyes, a thorough cleaning of his intimate areas. The sacrificial raiment is little more than lingerie, revealing white silks designed to show as much of the sacrifice’s body as possible to their god.
Xiao looks at himself in the mirror and despairs. Evidence of his defilement is scattered all over his body – bruises and bites, scratches and welts, all clearly visible beneath the scant bridal garments. He is no longer untouched. His maidenhood, which belonged to Rex Lapis, has been wrenched away from the both of them.
He knows that Jianzhe expects him to run. Expects that the shame of his violation will prevent him from offering himself to Rex Lapis. Perhaps it should. Presenting something tarnished and violated as a gift to a god is nothing short of insulting – but Xiao has only ever been Rex Lapis’s, and so he will only allow Rex Lapis to judge him. Should he be judged unworthy and struck down, then at least it will be at his god’s hand, not his rapist’s.
He takes a deep breath and shrouds himself in the sheer white veil of the bridal sacrifices. The whispers begin the moment he steps out of his chamber and joins the procession. Even covered by his veil and his silks, it’s clear what happened to his body – the bridal garments are not meant to hide anything from their god’s eyes, and so they cannot hide anything from mortal ones, either.
He knows what they must be thinking. It churns in his gut, sick and cold, that all these people think he betrayed Rex Lapis on the eve of his sacrifice – but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. If nothing else, Xiao can tell Rex Lapis who trespassed against his property with the proof painted on his skin.
He straightens his spine, schools his expression, and walks.
Zhongli hasn’t taken a bride at the Rite of Descension in decades.
The practice is an ancient one, dating back towards Liyue Harbor’s early years. The temple at Mount Tianheng has been standing almost as long as the harbor has. As a young god, he indulged in the temple’s offerings much more often, though to call the sacrifices he took his “brides” was perhaps an exaggeration; many of them cultivated to immortality and remained at his side for centuries to come, though as warriors and generals, not as intimate companions.
He has not felt the same spark he felt then in many, many years. Not until meeting his Xiao.
Zhongli does not make a habit of observing his people too closely. His gaze is cast outward, towards his uneasy borders and the monsters that roam the plains. But the sparkling jewel of his Xiao’s unbreakable spirit draws his eye back to the harbor more every year, as Xiao grows from a timid youth into a beautiful young man whose loveliness is matched only by his devotion.
Zhongli made the right choice to mark him with his favor. Of all the mortals Zhongli has coveted, Xiao is the most enchanting by far. In exchange for his favor, all Zhongli asked was that he live happily. He could have chosen any life he wanted and Zhongli would have allowed it, though his heart would have felt the loss – but Xiao, darling Xiao with his gentle and devoted spirit, has found his happiness in worship, and his devotion moves Zhongli in ways he has not been moved for centuries.
Zhongli is a god of stone, and stone is unmoving. But even bedrock can be eroded by wind and water. The sweet currents of Xiao’s simple, pure devotion have worn Zhongli’s heart into a tender shape, and he wants nothing more than to return Xiao’s worship with his own.
Xiao is sixteen this year. He will be offered at the next Rite of Descension. For the first time in decades, Rex Lapis will take a bride.
The Rite of Descension begins as always. Zhongli soars into the square of the Yiyan Temple in the form of a great dragon, touching down before his table of offerings. He shrugs off his draconic form to take a more human one, though he retains his arching antlers and scaled tail.
“Greetings, mighty Rex Lapis,” the Tianquan greets him with a respectful, though tempered, bow. “The people of Liyue Harbor welcome you and hope you accept our gifts in return for your wisdom.”
Zhongli dips his head. It won’t do to turn his gaze to his offerings before attending his duties as the god and steward of the harbor, and so he keeps his focus solely on the Qixing as he lays out his visions and predictions for the coming year. He will keep his city prosperous and his people safe, regardless of his own personal distractions.
After what feels like an age even for someone as old as Zhongli is, his duties are complete. Contract fulfilled, he takes a breath and turns around.
Zhongli casts his gaze across the table of offerings, the gathered citizens – and finally, with bated breath, the maidens of the temple. Those of eligible age stand along the edge of the square, dressed in the fetchingly revealing garments tradition dictates for virgin sacrifices. Some of them he recognizes from previous years. There are a few unfamiliar faces, and it seems a few devotees have departed the service of the temple. But the face he’s looking for—
Xiao. Slender and beautiful, a jewel glittering among his peers.
And oh, Xiao is a vision. The gauzy fabrics of the maiden sacrifices are even more becoming on his petite form, from the lacy top to the flowing sleeves to the scant panties cupping his adorably tiny cock. He is a joy to look at, and he would be even more of a joy to unwrap – Zhongli’s mouth waters at the thought of peeling those thigh-high stockings down his milky thighs, kissing every inch of exposed skin as he goes.
But someone has laid hands on his Xiao. Peeking out from beneath the straps and drapes of his outfit are countless injuries and indignities. A collar of tooth marks rings his neck, blending in with the dark streaks of hand-shaped bruises. The insides of his thighs are similarly ravaged, and bright bruises loop around his wrists and ankles, visible through the sheer fabric of his outfit.
Rage seats itself, heavy and cold, in the pit of Zhongli’s stomach. His most devoted, his Xiao, who lights incense and prays every night with enough compassion and reverence that even Rex Lapis’s stone heart is moved – his darling bird, who could have flown and alighted anywhere but chose Rex Lapis’s temple to make his nest – his beautiful maiden, who would have kept his body untouched by all but his god, if only he had been allowed to.
The whispers of the gathered crowd reach Rex Lapis’s ears as he approaches.
“…impure, defiled…”
“…an insult…”
“…should be ashamed to be seen…”
Brave Xiao, beautiful Xiao, who trembles beneath the judgment of his people but stands before his god with strength and dignity, because he knows he is Rex Lapis’s to judge. The crowd falls into hushed suspense as Zhongli stops in front of his sullied sacrifice.
“Tell me,” Zhongli says to the head priest. “Do the temple maidens belong to me, until the day upon which they choose to leave their service?”
The head priest bows. “Of course, honored lord. All of the temple maidens have devoted their lives to you. They belong to you, body and soul.”
Zhongli hums. “Then tell me,” he continues, “why someone has laid a hand upon that which belongs to me.”
The head priest freezes. His eyes flicker to Xiao before returning to the ground. “M-most honorable—”
“Silence.” Zhongli leans down to cup Xiao’s bruised cheek in a gentle palm. Even ravaged, he is beautiful beyond compare, and the fury in Zhongli is stoked by how ashamedly Xiao averts his gaze. “My Xiao,” Rex Lapis says softly. “Tell me who did this to you.”
Xiao trembles, gaze shifting towards the head priest in fear, but Zhongli catches his chin and tilts his face up. “Eyes only on me,” he murmurs. “I am your god. They will answer to me. You need not fear retribution.”
Silently, Xiao lifts a hand. He points at two of the temple guards, one after the other.
“He’s lying,” one of them immediately snaps. “He seduced us! He betrayed your trust, my lord, and now seeks to blame us for his indiscretions!”
“Where have I failed in my teachings, that my followers shame themselves this way?” Zhongli draws himself back up to his full height, laying a possessive hand on the back of Xiao’s neck. “That my most devoted is violated so, and blamed for his own violation?”
The guard who spoke blanches. “My lord—”
Zhongli turns a soft, tender gaze down to Xiao, who stares up at him with wonder blooming like a flower on his wounded face. “Tell me what you wish to be done to them, my bird,” he says, brushing a lock of hair behind Xiao’s ear. “It shall be done swiftly and happily. Retribution is yours, in any form you wish it.”
And Xiao, beautiful in body and spirit both, looks worried. Where men like the temple guards would have enacted all manners of cruelty with glee, Xiao balks at the idea of hurting anyone, even those who caused him such pain. “My will is your will. All I ask…” He hesitates. “All I ask is that their children not be harmed.”
Their children? Zhongli casts a narrow-eyed gaze at the guards, then at the rest of the temple maidens. The pieces fall together quickly when he sees two terrified youths that bear a resemblance to the perpetrators. Jealous of Xiao’s beauty and desperate for their children to win Rex Lapis’s favor, the guards thought to steal Xiao’s maidenhood from his god.
Someone crueler may have asked for the children to be punished for their parents’ crimes. But Xiao, tender Xiao whose gentle spirit remains unmoved by the world’s cruelty, wants to ensure that the children do not suffer, even if it would be the punishment that would cause the guards the most pain.
“You truly are the kindest, most worthy bride I could ask for,” Zhongli says. The most fitting punishment for these defilers would be to tear their children from them, to make them watch as Zhongli killed the very reasons for their trespasses, but his bride has asked for mercy. “Very well. They alone will suffer the punishment for their misdeeds.”
Xiao relaxes against Zhongli’s body, as easy and trusting as he’s ever been with his god. Years Zhongli has waited, years before Zhongli could hold Xiao like this, and the moment has been sullied by those who thought to take what should only ever be freely given.
“Which of them took you?” Zhongli murmurs. “Was it both?”
Xiao shakes his head. “Jianzhe,” he whispers. “The one who spoke. The other merely… held me down.”
Zhongli hums, thoughtfully stroking a gentle hand through the feathery strands of Xiao’s hair. The square is silent and still, frozen as they wait for Rex Lapis to enact his judgment.
With a single clenched fist, the guard who enabled Xiao’s violation has wrists encased in stone. Zhongli pulls his hand to the side, slowly and inexorably dragging the guard across the square towards Jianzhe.
“Father—” a voice calls weakly from the maidenhood. She is shushed immediately.
“Is this what your daughter wanted for you, do you think?” Zhongli asks the man as he binds his hands to Jianzhe’s with cor lapis cuffs. “And your son?” he asks Jianzhe. “Are they happy to hear that their fathers raped an innocent devotee, whose only crime was being loved by his god?”
A choked sob rings out from the gathered crowd. Jianzhe’s eyes are drawn to whoever it is, and his face crumples.
Zhongli lowers his fist, and with it, the man and Jianzhe are lowered as well, the man pinning Jianzhe down in a mimicry of what they’d done to Xiao.
“If it weren’t for my Xiao’s mercy, I would have slaughtered them before you,” Zhongli continues, gentle and lethal. “I would have made you beg for their lives like my Xiao begged for you to stop, and then I would have removed their heads from their shoulders and watched you weep. You have shamed their devotion to their god, and it would have been only just to take their lives as penance.”
Jianzhe sobs. “Please, my lord, I—I only wanted a better life for my child—”
“Know that it is only through the grace of the one you violated that it is just your lives I will take.” Zhongli forms a cor lapis spear and stabs into Jianzhe’s groin, through that wretched organ that caused Xiao such pain. Jianzhe howls like a dog, like an animal, like the cowardly creature he’s made of himself.
“My lord—” the other man starts, voice shaking. His words descend into a scream of pain as Rex Lapis crushes the stone around his wrists into his bones, grinding them into powder.
“I am no lord of anyone who would commit such an act,” he says coldly as the men shiver and weep. “I hereby renounce you both from my service. May your spirits go where they will when you die.”
With a clean flick of his spear, he removes first Jianzhe’s head, then the other man’s. It is quicker than Zhongli would have liked, but it is still satisfying to hear the wet thump of their bodies as they slump lifelessly onto the stone.
“And all of you, who judged my Xiao for the violence enacted upon his person,” Zhongli says to the murmuring, horrified crowd, who fall silent at his words. “You shame yourselves with your callousness. Is it not I who judges the worthiness of my sacrifices?”
“Yes, Rex Lapis,” the head priest whispers. Some members of the crowd, as well as most of the maidenhood, lower their heads.
“In the end, they stole nothing from my Xiao,” Zhongli says. “The gift of a body is one that can only be given, not taken.” He turns a stony gaze to the head priest. “A violation such as this will not happen again. You will swear it to me now, upon pain of death.”
The head priest nods jerkily. “I—I swear it,” he stammers. “Upon my life, I swear it.”
“Your word is your contract, and contracts are the blood that runs through the beating heart of Liyue. Break your contract, and you defile my blood.” Zhongli casts his eyes across the gathered people of Liyue, who watch him in a mixture of fear and reverence. “I will return soon,” he says, more softly but no less deadly. “I believe I have been too lenient in the guidance of my people.”
The Qixing bow. “We look forward to your wisdom, Rex Lapis,” the Tianquan says.
Zhongli has waited to have his bride for far too long – first for eight years, and now with this unpleasantness. With a final nod, he gathers Xiao into his arms and sweeps himself and his bride away to his abode.
When Rex Lapis pulls Xiao into his arms, the world ripples and twists around them. It lurches to a halt and Xiao’s stomach lurches along with it, and when he blinks his eyes open, he is not on the Yujing Terrace anymore, but inside some kind of building.
“Welcome home, my Xiao,” Rex Lapis says. His voice rumbles like a tremor in the earth beside Xiao’s ear.
Xiao lifts his head from Rex Lapis’s chest to take in his surroundings. He gapes.
He had thought the temple at Mount Tianheng was opulent. The gilded trim, the magnificent statues – it was the grandest place he’d ever seen. It is cheap compared to the splendor and wealth of Rex Lapis’s abode.
Cor lapis and gemstones, marble and jade – not only is the architecture itself beautiful, it is made with only the finest materials. Rich silk drapes over the windows. Immaculate scrolls of art and calligraphy line the hallways.
“My lord,” Xiao breathes. “It’s beautiful.”
“I am glad you think so.” Rex Lapis presses a kiss to Xiao’s hair. “If there is anything that is not to your liking, inform me immediately. This is your home now, too. I will tear this place down and rebuild it from the foundations up if you desire it.”
Xiao shakes his head. “I—I would never—”
“Shh. Simply keep it in mind, my little bird.” Rex Lapis walks them down the hallway, bearing Xiao’s weight as effortlessly as if Xiao was actually a bird and not a man. The door he brings Xiao through is cracked open already, and he shuts it firmly with his foot behind them.
This room is more understated, though no less beautiful. There are fewer decorations, just a few trinkets on a desk and a bookshelf full of books. In pride of place, though – Xiao blushes.
A bed. A marital bed. It sits on a raised kang platform, its facade and posts carved beautifully from sandbearer wood. Rich brocades of silk drape over the carved wooden top of it, forming a canopy over the equally luxurious inside.
“Our marriage bed,” Rex Lapis murmurs. He sets Xiao down on the edge of it and leans in to pepper his face with kisses – his forehead, his nose, under his eyes. “I began commissioning it soon after you joined the temple. Only the finest materials and craftsmanship for you, my little dove. Is it to your liking?”
Is it to Xiao’s liking? The mattress is more comfortable than anything Xiao has ever slept on, and the wood doesn’t creak when he shifts his weight. The gemstones and cor lapis woven into the intricate designs carved into the wood wink in the dim, romantic light of the room.
“This is far too much,” Xiao croaks. “Most honorable Rex Lapis, how can I ever—”
“Zhongli,” Rex Lapis interrupts him gently. “You are my bride, Xiao. My most beloved. You may call me by my name.”
Xiao swallows. It is an honor beyond honor to speak so intimately with his god, and warmth blooms in his chest like a flower.
“Zhongli,” he says shyly.
“Oh, my Xiao,” Zhongli says with a happy sigh. “My name sounds all the sweeter when it comes from your tongue. May I kiss you?”
Xiao’s heart flutters. “You don’t need to ask.”
“Of course I need to.” Zhongli caresses Xiao’s cheek with his knuckles. “Too much has been stolen from you without your consent. I will not take that which you are not ready to give.”
A god, asking permission from his rightful bride. It’s enough to make Xiao breathless with adoration and wonder. Xiao loops his arms around Zhongli’s neck and nuzzles their noses together. “I want to give everything to you.”
Zhongli’s expression softens, impossibly fond. “If anything I do is not to your liking, tell me,” he says, nudging his nose back against Xiao’s affectionately. “This is supposed to be a joyous night for the both of us.”
Xiao cannot imagine Zhongli doing anything that will frighten or hurt him, but he nods anyway. “I will.”
“My beautiful Xiao,” Zhongli whispers. “I cannot wait to have you.” He tilts his face and finally, finally, presses their lips together.
Xiao melts under the gentle movement of Zhongli’s mouth against his. He jolts when Zhongli’s hot tongue slips between his lips, but Zhongli doesn’t deepen the kiss much further than that for now. Even this is making Xiao’s entire body quake with pleasure.
“You tremble so sweetly, my dear,” Zhongli murmurs into the warm, wet space between their lips. “Have you ever been kissed?”
“N-no,” Xiao gasps. Jianzhe had no interest in his lips, and even if he had, Xiao is sure it would feel nothing like the way Zhongli makes love to him with his mouth.
Zhongli pulls back, a pleased glint in his eyes. “Move up the bed, my dear,” he says. “Lay back against the pillows.”
Body still hot and shaking from Zhongli’s touch, Xiao obeys. Zhongli crawls over him as he goes, and when Xiao settles against the pillows, Zhongli leans down to cup his face and kiss him again, deep and filthy.
Xiao has never heard himself make the noises Zhongli is pulling from his chest – soft, wounded things, moans that Zhongli greedily takes into his own open mouth. Xiao holds onto Zhongli’s shoulders with quivering fingers, grip tightening spasmodically with every movement of Zhongli’s tongue inside Xiao’s mouth.
“Your body was made for pleasure,” Zhongli pants as he pulls back. A string of saliva connecting their lips snaps as he speaks. “My darling, my dove… if I could have had you sooner, I would have.”
“I would have let you,” Xiao says. He gasps as Zhongli turns his attentions from Xiao’s mouth to his tender throat. “Anything… anything you wanted—”
“That is exactly why I had to be careful with you,” Zhongli says with a little nip beneath Xiao’s jaw. The pinprick of pain makes Xiao jerk in Zhongli’s grasp. “The temple rules exist for a reason. I could not clip your wings before you even grew them, my little bird.”
The movement of Zhongli’s lips against Xiao’s throat as he speaks is scattering Xiao’s thoughts, but he manages to pull them back into some semblance of coherence. “My life—it’s always been yours.” He whines as Zhongli’s tongue presses against his pulse. “My lord— my god— my one and only love—”
Zhongli seizes his cheeks and kisses him again. Xiao surrenders easily to Zhongli’s touch, basking in the warmth of his god’s love and affection.
Jianzhe’s touch isn’t here. Not in this bed. Any squirm of discomfort falls to pieces beneath Zhongli’s hands and mouth. A body isn’t taken but given, and Xiao has only ever given his body to his god.
“May I undress you, my Xiao?” Zhongli murmurs. His hands trail down Xiao’s throat and pluck at the hems of his veils and laces.
There is nothing Xiao would love more than to bare himself completely to his lord. “Please,” he whispers. “All of what I am—it belongs to you, my lord.” He wets his lips nervously. “My Zhongli.”
Zhongli moans outright. “Yes,” he says as he bites his way down Xiao’s collarbone. “I am yours, as you are mine. Tell me again, my Xiao.”
“My Zhongli,” Xiao says again, with more confidence. Zhongli strips his sacrificial garments from him, rushed enough that even his careful hands tear the lace. Every strip of silk removed reveals the bruised, scarred skin of his body, but Xiao is not ashamed. His god worships him with teeth and tongue, and his god’s will is his own – what is sacred to Zhongli is sacred to Xiao, and Xiao himself is sacred.
“My love,” Xiao says with a shaky gasp as Zhongli strips his stockings from him, peppering his skin with kisses as he pulls them down. Every inch of skin revealed is an inch of skin kissed, leaving Xiao trembling. “M… my only…”
“Your only,” Zhongli purrs as he presses a kiss to the tender sole of Xiao’s foot. “I am your only, as you are mine.”
He moves up to Xiao’s panties last. His deft fingers untie the laces at the sides, leaving the white scrap of fabric to unfold like a flower around Xiao’s body.
Look at this tiny cock, Jianzhe’s disgusted voice echoes in Xiao’s mind. Self-conscious, Xiao covers himself with a hand. “I—I know it’s not—”
Zhongli grips his wrist, gently but firmly, and moves his hand so he can look at the petite curve of Xiao’s hard cock. “You are beautiful,” Zhongli murmurs as he leans in to press a kiss to it. “Every part of you is beautiful. The men that made you think otherwise are dead, and I would happily kill them again.”
Flushing, Xiao tries and fails to keep his hips from bucking as Zhongli kisses up the short length of his cock. “I—you don’t need to—”
“Need to what? Treat you tenderly?” Zhongli strokes a gentle thumb across the crown of Xiao’s little cock. “Teach you the pleasure of your own body? I believe I do, my Xiao.” He leans down and envelops the head of Xiao’s cock between his lips, swirling his tongue into the slit.
Xiao lets out a wail as the coil of heat in his stomach comes undone. The strength of the pleasure that crashes over his body is all-encompassing, overwhelming – his eyes roll back, white stars dancing across the black as he empties himself into Zhongli’s mouth. He can’t stop shaking, hands gripping the sheets, mouth open soundlessly as his breath leaves his lungs.
All that cuts through the haze is the sound of Zhongli’s voice. “You were so beautiful,” his god praises him, hands rubbing soothing circles on the jut of his hipbones. “You were so good. Did that feel good, my Xiao?”
“Yes,” Xiao practically sobs out. “I—I’ve never—”
Zhongli kisses his abdomen teasingly. “Is this pleasure so foreign to you? Surely you have explored your body before, my Xiao.”
Xiao shakes his head. Slowly, he returns to himself, the aftershocks of his pleasure still dancing up and down his spine. “My body has always been yours, my lord,” he says, somewhat shy. “I… I never… I woke from dreams sometimes, but I never…”
The silence that follows drags on long enough that Xiao sits up, nervous. He meets Zhongli’s gaze, and Zhongli – he looks entranced. His pupils are blown, his lips parted with awe, and Xiao has never felt like the object of anyone’s worship before this moment.
“You are… beyond compare,” Zhongli whispers. He crawls up Xiao’s body to press their lips together, open-mouthed and breathlessly tender. From his tongue to Xiao’s passes the taste of Xiao’s pleasure. It’s dizzying, overwhelming, Xiao squirming in Zhongli’s grasp and whining into his mouth.
This is what a revelation must feel like – a euphoric crash of thought and feeling, the sensation of falling and knowing his lord’s arms will catch him. Xiao kisses back with as much fervency as he can muster, inexperienced tongue slipping into Zhongli’s mouth, and Zhongli makes a delighted noise as he pulls their bodies even closer together.
“I will show you all the pleasures your body is capable of,” Zhongli tells him, breathless with passion. “I will claim you as none other has claimed you.”
“Please—” Xiao’s voice trails into a whine as Zhongli’s warm hands slide down his torso, settling into the gentle curve of his waist. The bruises don’t hurt as Zhongli’s thumbs press into his ribs, and Xiao realizes with wonder that Zhongli’s hands are wiping away Xiao’s hurts as if they had never existed.
“Your first time should not hurt,” Zhongli murmurs. He kisses down Xiao’s chest, settling his lips against Xiao’s sternum as if to anoint the heartbeat drumming rabbit-quick inside. “You will tell me if it does, won’t you?”
Xiao cannot imagine anything Zhongli could do that Xiao would not welcome, but he nods anyway.
Zhongli’s lips curve into a smile that Xiao can feel against his chest. “Good,” he says, nipping Xiao’s skin playfully. “I hope you are ready to enjoy the delights you have denied yourself so long, my dove.”
His hands skim down Xiao’s waist to settle on his hips, and there, too, does the ache fade. The violence inflicted upon Xiao’s body has been cleansed from him by his god’s healing touch, and Xiao melts into the mattress with a shuddering sigh.
“I prepared these for our wedding night,” Zhongli says. He offers a small set of glass bottles for Xiao to consider, one hand remaining firmly on Xiao’s hip. “What scent would you prefer? Bergamot? Jasmine?”
“Any of them,” Xiao says, trying not to sound as impatient as the burning need in his belly is making him feel. His cock has already regained an interest, his young body rebounding quickly from his early climax, and what he wants more than a pleasant scent is to feel Zhongli’s hands and cock. “Please—just—”
Zhongli chuckles indulgently and sets all but one bottle aside. “As my bride wishes,” he says. He shrugs off his ceremonial robes, and the breath leaves Xiao’s lungs as Zhongli’s full form is revealed to him.
Chiseled chest, arms of obsidian and cor lapis. Powerful corded muscles in his neck and thighs. And below his navel, the creases of his hips leading down to a hard, heavy cock, already dripping at its tip.
It’s huge. It will fill Xiao to the point of breaking. It should be intimidating, but all Xiao can think is that he wants it inside of him, taking him, claiming him, filling his most intimate places left untouched for so long.
“I hope I am to your satisfaction, my Xiao,” Zhongli says slyly.
Xiao’s mouth is too dry to formulate a response. He merely spreads his legs, which draws a throaty chuckle from Zhongli’s throat.
“Patience,” Zhongli tells him, pouring the oil onto his fingers and circling them around the rim of Xiao’s hole. “I will not take you like an animal.”
Xiao rolls his hips against the teasing brush of Zhongli’s fingertips. “Perhaps—perhaps I want you to.”
Zhongli laughs, startled and delighted. “Another time, perhaps. On our wedding night, I simply wish to make love to you.”
Make love. Xiao’s stomach is a warm twist of emotion. He breathes in, then out, as Zhongli pushes his fingers slowly, inexorably in.
Even this gentle, hesitant touch is nothing like Xiao has ever experienced. Zhongli’s fingers massage his insides tenderly, unwinding the tension Xiao didn’t know he was carrying in his body.
“That’s it, beautiful,” Zhongli murmurs. “Good. You’re so good.”
The praise makes Xiao’s hips buck. Beautiful. Good. He has never been these things outside of Zhongli’s gaze, and the intensity of Zhongli’s cor lapis eyes on his body has him helpless.
“Please,” Xiao begs. He doesn’t know what he’s begging for. The sensation of Zhongli’s fingers becomes more insistent as Zhongli thrusts in rhythm. Something inside of Xiao lights up at a particular twist of Zhongli’s fingers, and Xiao wails.
“There you are.” Zhongli presses his fingers against that spot again, merciless, and Xiao thrashes at the crashing waves of pleasure ricocheting up his entire body. “Beautiful. So beautiful. I am blessed to be the first to see you like this.”
“M-my lord!” Xiao sobs, overwhelmed tears spilling over his lashes. “I—I—”
“Come for me again, darling. It’s alright.”
Permission given, Xiao shudders into his second orgasm of the night, spend splattering onto his abdomen as Zhongli slowly, slowly eases his fingers out of Xiao’s hole.
“How many can I pull from your body tonight, I wonder?” Zhongli says, rubbing his hands soothingly down Xiao’s thighs. “Will you come on my cock for me, my Xiao?”
Body still shivering with the force of his pleasure, Xiao nods, teary-eyed. He will. He will do anything for Zhongli, serve his god in any way he wishes to be served, secure in the knowledge that his lord will return his devotion with equal fervor.
“Then I hope you are ready to take all of me.” Zhongli fists his cock in his hand, rubbing it down with another coat of oil before positioning it at Xiao’s loose, wet hole.
Xiao loops his trembling legs around Zhongli’s waist. “I am,” he whispers. “I am, Zhongli. Please… please take me. Please take what’s yours.”
“Oh, my darling,” Zhongli says, equally soft. He leans over Xiao’s body as he eases the thick crown of his cock in, resting his elbows on either side of Xiao’s head. “You have me. You don’t need to beg.”
Xiao’s eyes flutter, mouth gaping as Zhongli’s cock slides in, in, in.
He’d thought Zhongli’s fingers reached deep, but Zhongli’s cock is longer. Thicker. It spears him, pressing deep into the most intimate places of his body. The hot throb of it fills his guts, bullies up against the flat plane of his belly, and it feels like it’s pressing the breath from his lungs as it pushes in.
“Look how well you take me, my Xiao,” Zhongli says, voice strained. His face is so close to Xiao’s that Xiao can feel the warm breath of his words. “Words are not—enough—”
And here is where his lord’s perfect calm fractures and breaks – within the tight, virgin clutch of Xiao’s body. Zhongli moans as he bottoms out, hips pressed flush to Xiao’s ass.
“Move,” Xiao manages to choke out. “Please—”
Zhongli needs no further instruction. He pulls his hips back, the long, hot slide of his cock making Xiao gasp, before he slams back in and knocks the air back out of Xiao’s lungs. He holds Xiao’s head in the warm cradle of his left hand, his right gripping Xiao’s narrow hip as he pounds his cock into the willing vessel of Xiao’s body.
This is what happiness is. This is what love is. Lying on his back in his marriage bed, accepting everything his god can give him and everything his god can take from him – surrendering all he is to divinity, to the one love he’s carried his entire life. He lays a hand on his belly to feel where Zhongli’s cock sits inside of him, and it feels like worship, like sanctification. In this bed, he is made holy.
“Forgive me, my Xiao,” Zhongli pants. “I—I won’t last long.”
“Inside me,” he begs in prayer to his beautiful, attentive god.
And his god, his only, the one whom his soul loves, presses their mouths together to pass their devotion tongue to tongue as he spills his seed into Xiao’s belly and Xiao spills in turn.
Xiao lays a hand on the swell of his abdomen where his lord and love’s seed fills him. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
“My beloved,” Zhongli says, peppering kisses all over Xiao’s face. His nose, his cheeks, his eyelids – and finally, the mark of favor bestowed upon Xiao those eight years ago. His cock has softened, his spend leaking out around it, but he blessedly does not pull out of Xiao’s body. “My cherished. My only.”
His beloved. His cherished. His only. Xiao curls up in the embrace of his god and lover, his lord and husband, the one his soul loves and whose soul loves him in return, and he luxuriates in the beautiful warmth of it.