Chapter Text
Archons are not known for mingling with their human subjects—save for Natlan's Pyro Archon, who is human herself. They are gods, enthroned above mortals, revered and worshipped, hearers of nightly prayers, powerful beings who guard their nations.
Liyue's Geo Archon, Rex Lapis, has walked Teyvat for more than six thousand years. He has watched civilizations rise and crumble, fought in countless battles, and seen Liyue become what it is today: a prosperous nation shaped by his hand.
Yet sometimes he thinks his people no longer need his yearly guidance. They could move forward without him. He has thought about retiring from archonhood frequently in recent years.
From time to time, he descends to Liyue as the human Zhongli, walking among his people, trying to comprehend mortal life, to live as one of them, to occupy himself with the mundane rhythms of human existence. One activity he has come to enjoy is collecting things—jewels, books, artifacts, anything that catches his trained eye. Zhongli purchases it all without so much as questioning the price. Why would he? He can create Mora on a whim. But later, he will have to surrender that power and learn to be more practical with his spending.
After purchasing a lovely crimson butterfly brooch from Mingxing Jewelry in Feiyun Slope, Zhongli decides to head to Third-Round Knockout for tea and a performance by Iron Tongue Tian. He slows his pace, however, when he overhears a debate among three men along the roadside.
"Rex Lapis taught the ancient people of Liyue the craft of smelting and the creation of goods, which allowed them to develop trade with other nations," says a man with glasses, an air of confidence about him. "The first Mora was cast by the very hands of Rex Lapis himself, thousands of years ago!"
His companion, a short-bearded man, hums thoughtfully, his expression not entirely in agreement. "I don't disagree," he says. "And if I may add, the first Mora has been passed down in secret and is now in the hands of the Qixing."
The third man, the oldest of them all, shakes his head almost mockingly. "I highly doubt that. The first Mora is a mystic catalyst used for weapon enhancements!"
Zhongli comes to a full stop, his interest piqued—though he nearly bursts out laughing at the third man's absurd assertion. Where do these people get such ideas about the first Mora? And why are they discussing it at all?
He turns and approaches the three men to politely interject.
"Mora and money came about simply because they are a convenient measure of a contract's value," Zhongli chimes in with a small, cordial smile. "Rex Lapis intended Mora to serve as a 'catalyst' for people to exchange and trade. The world's first Mora is likely just an ordinary coin created by Rex Lapis. As for its fate?" He shrugs lightly. "The same as all Mora, I suspect—it was simply spent somewhere."
The three men fall silent, their attention converging on this gentleman.
Zhongli enthusiastically continues, answering their follow-up questions until they all find themselves agreeing with him, their debate resolved. With that finished, Zhongli resumes his trek—only to stop again when a female voice addresses him:
"My, that was an impressive display of knowledge! You sound like you know a great deal about our beloved Archon."
His lips curve into a smile before he turns to face the owner of the dulcet voice.
Before the bridge connecting Feiyun Slope to Chihua Rock stands a young woman of medium height. The first thing Zhongli notices are her bright scarlet orbs, their pupils shaped like blossoms. She has long brown hair tucked beneath a hat adorned with a plum blossom branch. Her legs and thighs are rather exposed, he thinks—but his gaze lingers there longest as he scans her from head to toe.
He recognizes the symbol on her hat and correctly deduces—
"You are from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor."
Zhongli does not miss the way her lips curl into a pleased smile. "That's right! You're speaking with the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor." She extends her hand. "My name is Hu Tao." He takes it and shakes. "Hu as in 'WHO put me in this coffin,' and Tao as in 'I can't geT OUT!'"
He suppresses a cringe at her dreadful humor. But he softens immediately when she laughs at her own joke.
"And you are?" She withdraws her hand.
"Zhongli," he answers. He rarely introduces himself to humans, and sometimes worries he might give away his true name instead of his human one.
"Zhongli," she tests the name on her tongue.
"You called my attention?" He steers the conversation forward.
Hu Tao nods. "Indeed I did. I must say, I'm impressed by your display of Liyuean ancient history back there. I don't often come across people like you. Are you some sort of historian?"
He panics inwardly, anticipating more questions about his life. "I don't mean to brag," he says; "but I have a very good memory, and history—particularly that of Liyue—happens to be a favorite subject of mine."
She hums in acknowledgment. Zhongli senses there is something more she wishes to ask.
"Then perhaps you could lend me a hand," Hu Tao says, turning toward the direction of the funeral parlor.
Zhongli does not know why, but he follows her—unwittingly changing the course of his mundane life.
The Hu family bears a great responsibility in Liyue, guiding the departed as they cross into the afterlife. But that was not always the case. Centuries ago, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor saved countless lives during a plague born of accumulated negative karma from the Yaksha after the Archon War. The Hu family established the parlor and has since maintained the balance between life and death.
Nowadays, however, Wangsheng is an ordinary business, providing funeral services and arrangements.
"Hi, Ferry!" Hu Tao beams at the dark-haired young woman standing outside the parlor, a very serious-looking young lady. "I'm back! Oh, and I brought a guest."
The director moves aside to present Zhongli.
"Hello," he says, and the Ferrylady's face brightens.
Zhongli is undeniably an attractive and refined gentleman. Those molten pools of gold and that brown hair are easy on the eyes; his attire is simple yet elegant; he carries himself with proper class and sophistication. He seems older than he looks, but handsome nonetheless.
"He'll be helping me with work today," Hu Tao declares. "Mr. Zhongli, this is Ferrylady—Ferry, to us—one of my employees."
"Why exactly did you bring me here?" Zhongli asks bluntly.
Hu Tao smiles. "Why, I want to hire you, Mr. Zhongli!"
"Hire me?"
"Mhm! You seem knowledgeable about all sorts of things concerning Liyue, and I thought: wouldn't it be useful to have someone like you working for me?"
He regards her silently, weighing her offer.
"And… what would you have me do for the funeral parlor? For you?"
"You can be my consultant!" she declares without hesitation. "If you'd like, you can tag along with me today, get a feel for what it's like working for me and for Wangsheng."
He is doubtful.
I suppose I would need a job if I were to step down. I see no harm in giving this a chance.
"If you keep talking like this, I'll have to call the Millelith," Congzi warns the director coldly.
Zhongli steps in. "Please, pardon us. We'll leave you alone." He offers the young lady an apologetic smile, then drags Hu Tao to a corner—even as she calls over her shoulder, "The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor awaits your distinguished patronage."
Vexation washes over his face. Honestly, what is this girl thinking? Promotional materials? Special offers? Wangsheng Funeral Parlor Bumper Sale! Buy One, Get One Free! Buy Two, Get Three Free! More For Your Mora! Is this how the reputable Wangsheng conducts its business nowadays? With tasteless marketing gimmicks?
Their recent interactions with Lan, Little Wu, Mumu, and now Congzi make Zhongli question—
Just what is going on inside this child's head?
Once they are alone, he remarks sternly, "You don't give up, do you?"
She responds with an unfazed smile.
"If I'm going to help you, Director," Zhongli says, "I think we need to rethink this 'business development' approach—"
"Business development?" She tilts her head, mildly amused. "Is that what you see this as? Surely you don't think all that was business development?"
Zhongli arches a questioning brow, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then what have we been doing this entire time?"
"No, no, no." Hu Tao waves both hands before her. "The business development ended after our talk with Lan from the Adventurer's Guild."
She explains further: "I was helping to find somebody for Meng. Remember Big G?"
He recalls the young undertaker mentioning a "Big G."
"Yes," Zhongli says, though he fails to see how her attempts to promote the funeral parlor to those three so-called clients have anything to do with Meng or this Big G.
"Well," Hu Tao continues, "this Big G that Meng is looking for is a ghost adrift in the mortal realm. Those three—Mumu, Little Wu, and Congzi—were all people I suspected of being followed by Big G." She pauses, humming in contemplation. "But having seen them, I didn't sense any otherworldly presence."
She sighs and begins walking ahead. "Let's head back to the funeral parlor. This Big G matter is closely linked to Meng."
Zhongli lets her walk ahead, his eyes narrowing curiously in her direction. She seems to care for her young undertaker and exudes a small air of mystery.
"Are you coming, Zhongli?" She stops to ask.
"I'm coming, Director Hu," he says, walking until he stands beside her. He glances down, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. "Care to enlighten me on who this Big G is?"
Hu Tao simply smiles. "I'll let Meng answer that for you."
Outside the parlor stands Meng, his expression anxious.
"Meng! We're back," Hu Tao chirps. "I'm afraid we're still no closer to finding Big G."
The young undertaker frowns. "I see, Director." He sighs. "I'm sorry for the trouble."
"Don't be." Hu Tao waves an airy hand. "Anyway, Meng, care to enlighten our newest employee about who Big G is?" She gestures to Zhongli, who turns to Meng in anticipation.
"Oh, right. I should probably start from the beginning." Meng's lips curl into a smile at the memory. "My home used to be near Wuwang Hill. Back in my youth, I had a few good friends there. One of them was Big G."
He pauses, the smile fading. "Big G and I were inseparable. He was my best friend. But one day, an accident happened, and he… passed away." He looks down. "I've never forgotten the memories I had in Wuwang Hill. I still visit sometimes. But recently, after one of my visits, I started to feel strange. And every night since, Big G appears in my dreams. I can't help but wonder… did I disturb him somehow?"
Zhongli shakes his head. "I highly doubt that. That sort of thing doesn't happen."
Meng turns to him. "Perhaps. I don't have proof, but I can't stop worrying. I grow more anxious every day." He exhales heavily, his face forlorn. "How would I ever come to terms with my childhood friend becoming an evil spirit?"
Hu Tao turns to Zhongli. "That's why he joined Wangsheng. In place of a salary, I'm helping him deal with this matter. And what Meng just said is plausible—spirits occasionally find their way into our world."
Is this what the director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor usually does? Zhongli thinks as Hu Tao speaks to Meng. It is obvious to him that the young undertaker is simply frightened—his fears are unfounded—yet here is Hu Tao trying to assuage him. He sees little point in sticking around.
But… he is curious about this young woman. Zhongli wants to see if she is truly capable of upholding the Hu family name and running the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
"Um, excuse me," a new voice interjects. "Is this Wangsheng Funeral Parlor?"
Heads turn to the newcomer, a brown-haired young man in earth-toned clothes.
"My name is Luocheng," he says. "I've had this awful feeling lately, like something is staring at me. Some friends and I went to Wuwang Hill the other day on a dare. After I returned home, I fell ill… I've been having recurring nightmares, but the doctors can't find anything wrong. I think—I think I've been cursed by a demon. That has to be it."
Zhongli has learned that many people easily fall prey to superstition. He wonders how the young director will handle this.
To his surprise, Hu Tao nods enthusiastically at Luocheng. "Say no more! It's a demonic curse, alright—and a serious one at that."
Zhongli stares at her with wide, questioning eyes, but she does not return his gaze, keeping her attention on Luocheng, who looks visibly relieved.
"Y-You believe so too?" he exclaims. "Then it's just like the tales of old… The vengeful spirits of fallen gods from the Archon War return to cast their curses on mortals. And if that curse isn't lifted, it will burn through the body, laying waste to flesh and bone." He shudders. "What a wretched end!"
"Wuwang Hill?" Meng repeats, a contemplative hand on his chin. "Then… it must be—"
"Big G?" Zhongli supplies, deadpan.
Meng whirls to face him and nods. "Y-Yes!—" He turns to Luocheng. "It's probably not a curse, but Big G!"
"Hey! Hold your horses." Hu Tao interjects. "I think you're jumping to conclusions."
"Wangsheng Funeral Parlor specializes in demonic things like this, right?" Luocheng says. "Help me, please!" He bows to Hu Tao. "I beg of you. I'm too young to die."
"Alright, alright." She urges him to stand. "I'll do what I can."
"The director is highly skilled!" Meng praises. "She can definitely help you."
Zhongli brings a hand to his chin, dark brows furrowed, as he stares intently at what appears to be a—
"Ley Line Monolith," he murmurs quietly to himself. It does not escape the director's hearing. They stand at the top of Mt. Tianheng near Liyue Harbor, the chosen site for the exorcism.
"That's right!" Hu Tao chirps, appearing before him like a leaf or petal blown into his face by a mischievous gust of wind.
He arches a brow, folding his arms across his chest. "And pray tell, Director Hu, what mysterious rituals are you going to perform here?" Though his words are almost playful, his tone carries skepticism—and perhaps a hint of criticism.
Though the Hu Family is skilled and respected, Zhongli admits to himself that so far, he finds nothing remarkable about Wangsheng's current director. Is she truly capable of running the funeral parlor? Of continuing the Hu Family traditions and practices? Is she even worthy of inheriting her forebears' secrets and arts?
I should reserve my judgment until the end, Zhongli decides. It isn't wise, nor right, to hold such prejudices against someone I just met.
Regardless, his misgivings are already there, lodged in his mind. Only Hu Tao's next actions can overturn them.
"No ritual at all," she says, hands clasped behind her back. "Just killing time."
His lips purse in disbelief.
"Aren't you going to perform an exor—"
"An exorcism?" She laughs. "Wait—you didn't take all that vengeful god's curse stuff seriously, did you? They were eradicated ages ago."
I know, he wishes he could say.
And unknown to him, Hu Tao reads the answer in those bright amber eyes.
"Then why are we here?" Zhongli asks bluntly.
"You saw those two. One thinks he's been cursed. The other believes his friend turned into an evil spirit." She plants her fists on her waist. "Reasoning with them is impossible at this point."
Her voice turns more reflective, more serious. "Now you see why I believe ordinary folks should be kept in the dark." He catches the way her bright scarlet eyes dim for a moment, as if recalling something unpleasant.
She breaks free from his gaze, turning to the horizon beyond the harbor. "I've seen too many people lose their senses over things like this. If you want to calm them down, you need to convince them with something tangible."
She sounds as though she's speaking from experience, Zhongli thinks.
Hu Tao turns back to face him. "And the best way to do that is to make a great show of destroying the bogeyman they believe in—right before their eyes."
"I see." He offers a small smile. "I understand what you're driving at. There is no guarantee that telling an ignorant person the truth will improve the situation—or worsen it."
A smile flashes across her lips as she nods eagerly. "Exactly. So what I can do is pretend to pull back anyone who believes their time is near. But since the curse is imaginary, our fix will be make-believe, too."
That makes sense, Zhongli thinks. Anyone who knows the history of the Yaksha would instantly assume a curse.
"Ah, they're finally here!" Hu Tao waves to Meng and Luocheng as they approach. "We just finished our preparations!" She motions to the Monolith. "This device drives away evil spirits. Once activated, it'll absorb the curse inside you and make it take physical form."
The Geo Archon hides his amusement.
What a clever little liar she is. But there is no malice behind her words or actions. I can see she is doing this to genuinely help people.
"Now, my dear consultant—" The director turns to him with an elfish smile meant only for him. "Kindly do us the honor and activate this device." She bats her eyelashes prettily, drawing a smile from his lips.
It is the kind of smile that surprises her—accompanied by an unexpected warmth in those usually rigid pools of gold.
"Alright, Director." Zhongli acquiesces and approaches the Monolith to activate it.