Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

ACT I

CONTRACT

Foreword

The Passing of a God

2000 years ago, the God of Contracts, Morax, emerged as one of the victors of the Archon War and his rule of Liyue was officially recognized as one of the seven great nations. After the thousands of years of conflict that had ravaged the lands, the efforts were turned from war and survival to peace and prosperity. Though many a conflict still rose throughout the centuries, gods and their followers together with humans rose to meet the challenges and secured their future.

As times of peace endured and humans, traditions and cultures developed, Morax as the sovereign emperor of Liyue started making new contracts with his people, that better suited the changing times.

First, he established the Qixing as the governing body for daily things, relinquishing his own power over everyday matters. Then a few hundred years later, he announced to his people his wish to further let them govern themselves. He still stood as the emperor over all others and his adepti had their own positions of power and duties they held no matter how many human generations passed. The god now wished for humanity to have more say in their affairs while learning more of their ways himself.

Thus, became to be the Contract of Mortal Divinity, the divine legacy of Liyue: the final contract from Morax to his people using his own voice to speak.

For thus, the God of Contracts passed from this world.

But die he did not. Morax left his material form to let it merge back within the earth from whence it came. His soul, memories and power he bestowed upon a human of his choosing, crowning them as the first mortal emperor of Liyue. Using this new vessel as medium to see the world in a new way, Morax granted his emperor of choice with what they could take of the god’s abilities to use in times of need. The first emperor ruled over Liyue, guided by his god and guarded by adepti, teaching Morax the ways of humanity.

At the point of the emperor’s passing, mortal that he was, Morax chose a new person from within his people, passing on the title of the emperor and the power of the god to the next person he deemed suitable to lead Liyue in his stead.

Thus, the mortal yet divine emperor, Rex Lapis, began their everchanging but everlasting reign.

Each emperor was different: all chosen and guided by their god, yet bringing their own flair and taste to the politics, culture and commerce of Liyue. Men and women, young and old were chosen and granted power by their god, who yet held the ultimate right to strip them of their title were it to be misused. But rarely did that happen, for Morax was careful with his choices.

Observing his city flourish under the guidance of generations of Qixing members and emperors through the eyes and ears of his vessels, the God of Contracts continued to watch over the city he had helped build with his own hands, from within the mountain palace he had raised from the ground.

And so it had been for over 800 years.

1

Death That Arrived with the Night

Zhongli stood in the middle of field of glaze lilies, amongst long waving grass and trees he didn’t remember ever seeing before. The wind that moved the landscape around him felt too real on his skin, making him a little uneasy despite the calmness of his surroundings.

What was this place? He had no memory of a field like this and glaze lilies in particular were not this abundant anywhere in the wild that he knew of. The trees reminded him of oaks but not any type he recognized and no landmark around as far as his eyes could see gave him hints as to where he might have been.

And why did he feel the wind on his skin so vividly? Why did the tender scent of the flowers reach his nostrils? Why did the ground rustle under his feet as he shifted his weight around?

He had been preparing the funeral of the recently departed emperor together with Hu Tao, sorting out the things they needed to prepare for the day. Due to the sudden, unexpected nature of the divine ruler’s death, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had received an urgent message of the fact even before it was announced to the public. The company had handled the parting rites of the emperors and the adepti ever since it had been established, and although the reality of the situation was grim, it was all the more important that the late emperor was given a proper send off, as soon as possible.

As the parlor’s resident expert on adepti and divine traditions, the director had given him the role of the main organizer of the funeral. Zhongli was certain he had been just now standing in his office, gathering information on things he needed to prepare for the Rite of Parting fit for an emperor.

So why was he here?

And where was this?

He took a step forward, shaking himself off of his astonished stupor, knowing that standing around staring at things would likely not answer his questions. But one step was all he needed to find himself freezing in place again and his breath caught in his throat in surprise. The scenery had changed from day to night in that but one step. The glaze lilies around him now bloomed in the moonlight so bright it painted the entire landscape in silver and blue.

A song carried into his ears over the swaying flowers and Zhongli quickly turned around to look towards the sound. A little away from him, under a tree that curved its branches above the ground like a natural gazebo, he saw a figure of a woman, sitting among the flowers. Her hair was flowing slowly in the wind that didn’t blow. Next to her on the ground Zhongli saw figure of another, but he couldn’t make out their form enough to determine who it might have been.

The woman was humming a song he did not recognize, her soft tunes sounding clearly in the night even to where he stood further away from the two under the shade of the tree. Who were they? Zhongli was curious but something compelled him not to move or make a sound to disturb them. The sudden change in scenery only a moment ago was a mystery as well. Something told him to not interfere with the scene around him.

Before he could think of what to do without attracting the couple’s attention, a strong, violent shove of wind almost made him fall over. He saw the woman in the distance break and scatter into fine dust into the wind. Next dissolved the flowers and trees around him, and he shielded himself from swirls of ashes that burned the back of his throat. The ground shook, making Zhongli lose his balance and fall on his hands and knees. Something large moaned in the distance and he wasn’t sure what kind of creature, if it was a creature at all, could make such a sound.

The once grassy field around him was turning to stone. Afraid of getting stuck or petrified himself, Zhongli found himself scrambling away from the closing line of stone, but upon realising he could not get away, he opted to rolling on top of the already petrified ground. He did not turn into stone upon touching the surface, thankfully, but could only watch the last of the field disappear from sight under casing of hoarse grey rocks.

A loud boom like thunder ground the sky above him open and he could only stare up in horror as the night sky cracked apart as if it was made of ice. The moon itself distorted as a particularly vast crevasse split it open and sharp black stones rained down, falling off the edges of the cracks, splintering against the ground.

Zhongli forced himself up from the ground, tore his eyes away from the breaking sky and ran. Every single one of his senses was dulled under the blind instinct to flee from danger and survive.

What is this place?

Why am I here?

Where can I go?!

He managed but a gasp when the ground below his feet caved in, collapsing under his weight. He fell but a short distance, hitting against the rocks only a few metres below, but thanks to his lost balance and unfocused mind, he couldn’t land on his feet and slumped among the pieces of the ground he had broken.

Suddenly his mouth was dry and his breathing got harder with each breath, screeching against his throat. He flew his hand up to his mouth, his first thought being there was some kind of poison in the air, but that didn’t make the feeling disappear. Attempting to stand up, Zhongli pushed himself up from among the rubble, but something was weighing on his body, like his clothes were suddenly ten times heavier than they should have been or as if someone was standing on his back, forcing him back down.

He collapsed again on the stone beneath, gasping in a breath as pain coursed through his body. The ground was shaking again. His hand clutched against the loose stones on the ground as his brain desperately tried to think of a way for him to survive. He saw a crevasse in the ground up ahead, creaking and inching its way forward towards him, threatening to plunge him further down into the unknown.

“No…” he whispered, and tried again to push himself up from the ground. “Someon—”

The heaviness was lifted before he could finish. A white fog spread around him like a veil that hid him from the world. The shaking stopped and the sounds of the breaking world disappeared, only ringing in his ears as echoes as the world turned silent.

Someone grabbed his upper arm in an iron grip and pulled him upwards from the ground that he now could barely feel or see.

“Why are you here?” someone’s voice spoke behind him, their tone strict but voice distorted and distant. It sounded familiar but he couldn’t figure out why.

Zhongli could only turn his head a little to see who he was speaking to, barely managing to see a white cloth flowing around as if in a wind and oddly shining fingers that held onto his arm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the voice continued and the grip on his arm tightened as the hand holding him shook. The owner of the voice sounded distressed.

Zhongli could not reply and his eyes remained unfocused as he in vain tried to get a better look at the man behind him.

“If you too will—” Suddenly the voice paused and the grip on the arm loosened ever so slightly. “…It must have pulled you here as it was created.” The owner of the voice groaned, sounding pained. “I should have realised that might happen. I apologise. The state of this space reflects my mental state. I’m afraid I am rather distraught.”

Zhongli felt himself being pulled up from the floor and the white fog closed in, hiding everything further from his sight.

“Now go back. We will talk later,” the voice said as it got further away. The hold on his arm disappeared. “Should there be danger, I will come to your aid. Now hurry and get back! There are people out there who are worried about you.”

The fog around him grew so dense light no longer got through and white turned into black. For a moment there was nothing but darkness.

Then as if emerging from the depths of an ocean back into the surface, light descended towards him from above. It engulfed him so quickly his eyes started to ache by the sudden change and he flinched. Something hard was pressed against his backside and he felt a touch on his cheek. His throat and chest ached with every breath as if he had just run to Mondstadt and back.

“Zhongli?”

He knew that voice.

“Is he awake? Oh, thank the gods…”

Was he awake? He saw light and shapes so his eyes must have been open. And his brain was starting to catch up with the events, if a little sluggishly. Recognizing the ceiling of his office through the haze, he was slowly realising that he must be lying on the floor.

“Mr. Zhongli? Can you hear us?”

He blinked a couple of times, trying to force his vision into focus. Someone was leaning over him and there were other shades nearby as well.

“Come now old man, we don’t want to plan your funeral today now do we?”

Director…

“This… is the part where you remind me you’re not old. Come on, don’t miss your cues.”

…What happened?

“Zhongli, please? Talk to me.”

It was too bright. His body felt so heavy… He closed his eyes as his eyes grew tired of trying to see. That dream… Was it a dream? Who was…?

“No!”

Someone was cupping both of his cheeks now.

“Please! Please don’t fall back asleep. Stay with me. Okay?”

Where was the director thinking he could go? He could barely muster enough strength to move, let alone escape from her. There was so little air in his lungs with each breath…

“Zhongli? Zhongli, please wake up. I’ll cut you a deal! I won’t tease you for a whole week if you just keep your eyes open for me.”

Tempting…

“Director Hu, I’ve brought some water. How is he?”

Water?

“Thank you. Bring it over here. He was awake for a minute there, but…”

I am awake, please stop slapping my cheek. That’s what he wanted to say anyway. Why did everything feel so heavy?

“Ooh, Zhongli, come on. Please.”

Something wet and cool was running against his forehead now, that at least felt alright. But it was as if someone had grabbed onto his ribs from within, pulling down and preventing them from going up to allow more air in.

<Osial’s arse, I should have noticed you sooner…>

Zhongli felt his whole body tense up. It was that voice again—

“Zhongli!”

<Look at what I did to you… I’ve never… ARGH! They will know they crossed me!>

A sudden surge of power sprung his body back alive. The people around him gasped and dodged out of the way as Zhongli shot up to sit. His eyes were wide open now, but as soon as the spike of energy subsided, his vision blurred again.

“Ngh…” he grunted between his teeth, breathless, and clutched his hand over his eyes. He felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders as his spine struggled to keep him upright. Someone else’s hands were also reaching out for him from the other side.

“Easy! Easy now. Everything is fine,” Hu Tao hushed and clutched her arm around his shoulders while seeking out his chin with her other hand and lifting it up. “Good morning, sleepyhead, I’m happy you decided to join us. Now breathe for me, okay. In and out.”

“Director…” Zhongli managed to croak out, trying to steady his breathing the best he could. Why was it so hard?

“No talking,” Hu Tao ordered, prying Zhongli’s hand off his face. He still couldn’t see clearly… Everything was just colours swimming together and mixing as they pleased. “Just breathe for now, okay? You’ll be fine. Meng, help me out,” she added firmly with a louder voice and Zhongli felt another pair of arms grab him as he was guided back to the floor. He realised there was something soft if thin under where his head was.

Zhongli squinted his eyes, attempting again to see properly around himself. With some effort, he could make out the faces of his colleagues now. Hu Tao had picked up a towel and was wiping his face again, keeping up the little stream of talk for him to listen to.

“See, breathing is nice. Keep it up. You’ll have plenty of time to not breathe when you’re dead. And the best part? Everyone can manage it naturally, so there is no need to practice,” she chatted, with a smile on her face, but Zhongli saw the tensed muscles around her eyes. “Just tell me if it gets hard, okay? I’ll give you pointers.”

It was hard. Zhongli groaned and closed his eyes for a second, but pried them back open before his boss would say something about it again. He concentrated on steadying his breath while Hu Tao was telling his co-workers that things seemed to be more alright now so most of them should stop peeking in and get back to work. Although the weight on his chest had eased, it felt like each breath he drew went through a tight straw before reaching his lungs. He still felt his lungs filling up with each inhale so his brain was telling him some of the perceived strain was probably from the mental side.

“Director Hu,” he interrupted her current stream of chatter when he managed to get a proper breath in. “What… what happened?”

“Aiya, you tell me,” Hu Tao said, while rubbing his cheek with bundle of a towel that was a little too wet. Her other hand had found its way under his chin and was supporting it up again. “We were talking about the preparations that needed to get started today and tomorrow. You got up to take something from the shelf and I got up to go see who was making a ruckus in the foyer. Before I got out, you were… just on the floor. With quite a heavy thud.”

Zhongli closed his eyes again and frowned. He did… not remember that. He vaguely remembered Hu Tao being in the room with him today. After that all was a blur.

“Honestly, it was so out of the blue at first I thought you were pulling a prank on me.”

“Please do not… lump me together with you…”

“Ah, yes. That thought passed quickly enough because I know your sense of humour is lacking. That said, that meant something else was wrong and that was much less nice of a thought,” Hu Tao replied light-heartedly. “Can you blame me for trying to stay positive? At first it looked like you were just asleep, but you wouldn’t wake up no matter what I did. And then… well, I’m open to give you those breathing lessons whenever you are free. First lesson free of charge! I’m sorry, while I do have a nice and comfortable coffin I could give to you right now, there is just no room for your funeral in my schedule.”

“How very kind of you…” Zhongli mumbled, while his vision was obscured by the towel the director put across his face.

“Do you have low blood sugar by any chance? Or are you prone to getting a heatstroke easily? Oh my, did you not sleep well, old man?” Hu Tao kept throwing out suggestions while brushing strands of hair out of Zhongli’s face.

“Director, I am 26: please stop treating me as if I’m one foot in the geriatric ward.”

“Aww, see, there you go,” Hu Tao giggled cheerfully. “Good to have you back.”

There was a certain edge to her voice that made Zhongli feel a pang of guilt in his chest. “I… Please, do not worry yourself. I’m okay now.”

“Sure you are, old man. Op!” She pressed a finger against his chest when Zhongli tried to get up. “I don’t think so.”

“Director, I am fine,” Zhongli tried to reason with her. “May I please get up?”

“Denied,” she replied and pressed him back down to the floor with all five fingers. “You will lay right there until a doctor shows up. Now: less talking, more breathing practice, if you’d be so kind.”

Zhongli sighed and gave up. He still felt somewhat heavy and had to consciously concentrate on his breathing to keep it steady, but his vision was no longer swimming and he could feel coherent thoughts and memories from the morning returning en masse. But if his boss was not about to let him up from the floor, he might as well try to chase off the last of the strain, while making sure she wouldn’t notice something was still affecting him. He had worried her quite enough.

Listening to her endless chatter as she kept him company, Zhongli had the opportunity to think back to his dream. If it was a dream at all. It felt all too real still, but even as he glanced around his arms to see any scratches or bruises from the rubble he had fallen into, there were none. Who had the three people he had seen been? The two under the tree, one of which was the singing woman and the other the person he couldn’t see. And then the person who had pulled him up. The person whose voice sounded so familiar but he couldn’t pinpoint why. ‘We will talk later’ that person had said and perhaps Zhongli should have felt uncomfortable or cautious about the whole deal, but somehow, he found that he wasn’t. It was more curiosity if anything.

What did he mean he’d help me if there was danger? Zhongli wondered as Hu Tao got up to greet the Bubu Pharmacy employee who his co-workers had guided to the right door. He raised the towel off his forehead and sat up now that the director wasn’t there to stop him anymore. A move she rather vocally protested immediately when she saw it. But honestly lying on the floor was not comfortable and he was feeling better now.

The doctor found nothing wrong with him upon inspection. In fact, he seemed perfectly healthy, to the point both Hu Tao and the doctor wondered what had been the cause of his episode exactly. Zhongli himself could also offer them no valid guesses and he was not going to talk about his nightmare to anyone, at least not yet. Least of all to Hu Tao who needed no further things to latch onto to tease him about.

For now, he was ordered to be cautious and keep an eye out for any possible health issues, with the advice to not hesitate to call for a doctor again if something came up. He had been struggling to breathe and trembled on the floor for a solid ten minutes before waking up and that was not normal, no matter what his vitals said. Plenty of water, light and healthy food and a non-stressful environment for a while, to make whatever it had been less likely to happen again.

Because the Rite of Parting was a huge event however, Zhongli downright refused to simply take a day off and despite her insistence that he’d take it easy, Hu Tao ultimately agreed. She had assigned Zhongli to take charge of the event for a reason. That said, his boss appointed him a few assistants and only paperwork for the day. The organisation of the rite became a lot more thoroughly done than intended that day, but it would make things easier in the long run. And thanks to Hu Tao ordering everyone able to work as his hands and feet, things progressed smoothly during the day despite the morning incident.

Reading through the scrolls detailing traditions and things used in previous funerals for emperors, Zhongli’s thoughts wondered to their latest divine ruler and his untimely parting from this world.

He did not know the details as they were not public information, but somehow the still young and healthy emperor had died overnight in an incident that had spurred all of the adepti in the harbour into action in the dead of night. No alarms were sounded, the citizens blissfully sleeping through the events that brought about the death of the divine Rex Lapis. Neither were the millelith alerted, so it was no large-scale attack on the palace. An assassination was a grim option that he couldn’t rule out, but who could have snuck into the palace past the adepti guards?

Should there be danger, I will come to your aid

Those words rang out in his head again. Who was that person? It couldn’t have been a figment of his imagination.

“Mr. Zhongli? I’ve brought the samples from the Jade Mystery.”

“Oh. Yes. Thank you.”

“Did I come at a bad time?”

“No, it’s alright. Bring them right over here please.”

The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had not been given the emperor’s body to prepare for the last rites. In fact, they had been told that there would be no body to bury at all. All would be done in ceremony only, with the symbolical presence of this emperor the only thing needed to be prepared, that is to say, his portrait and personal sigil. That was highly unusual. The vessels of Rex Lapis were always cremated. Half of their ashes would then be scattered onto a location or object of significance, usually something they themselves had either contributed to or found important. The other half would be taken to the Crypt that had been build atop the original tomb of the God of Contracts, where they became part of the earth like the physical body of their ancient god.

For there to be no body at all to cremate, these traditions would need to be adapted to the occasion. Zhongli had his work cut out for him, trying to think of ways to uphold the traditions with such unusual circumstances. As much as the fate of the emperor meant to the country, the main concern of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was now the last rite of their divine ruler. The send-off of a divine entity would need to be as kingly and well put together as possible. Zhongli could not help the adepti or the Qixing in figuring out the incident: his job was to ensure that whatever had happened, the emperor would rest in peace.

Confined to a desk job as he was, Zhongli did not see the official announcement from the Qixing about the emperor’s passing. But he only needed to keep the window to his office open and all the news were carried into his ears. The town was ablaze with rumours about what had happened, as well as buzzing with anticipation for the selection of a new emperor by the God of Contracts, which was a rare event to witness. In recent times, each emperor had ruled for a long life, either dying peacefully as their time had come or allowed retirement from their god as they aged. The naming of a new Rex Lapis was a momentous event, that one person could witness only once or twice in their lives. Zhongli himself had witnessed the Rite of Ascension and the coronation once for the now previous emperor when he had been a child. He had expected to see another one during his life, but not this soon…

As technically anyone could be chosen as an emperor, it was also always exciting. This being the city of commerce, many even tried to make money by betting on it. In reality, the selections often landed upon established members of the Qixing or their staff, wealthy families in businesses, brave and accomplished military officials or members from noble families, who were families of previous emperors that had kept their prestige. It wasn’t like the God of Contract favoured the wealthy: the emperor was required to have certain talents and knowledge in politics, commerce and leadership skills, so the selection often landed on people who had proven their skills in those fields. Still as technically anyone could rise to those positions with hard work in the city of commerce, the current Tianquan being a prime example of this, the selection was still considered fair. Besides, the selection of their god was final, so complaints usually died quickly. Even so, the last time someone of a lower social standing had been chosen as the next Rex Lapis was among the first five emperors.

The God of Contracts had throughout the years chosen various kinds of individuals to rule the land. Some were quiet and withdrawn, but excelled improving the lives of others from a distance, while some had lived a much more extravagant life and brought smiles to the faces of everyone in the city. Some had focused on sea trade and enforcing existing businesses, some had reached out to other countries and forged alliances. Some were talented leaders but lacked in general knowledge, while some were knowledgeable in private but avoided the public eye.

Their latest ruler had been of the latter variety, rarely showing his face in public events or leaving the imperial palace. But he had been a peaceful ruler, who had made an effort to bring more of the art world and culture to the everyday life of citizens. For that, Zhongli personally was grateful. He hoped the new emperor would be a person he found as easily agreeable as well.

In the preparations for the Rite of Parting, while rumours and news made the city outside the parlour effervesce, one day passed.

Then two.

Then three.

When a week had gone by and Zhongli stood in front of the constructed memorial altar for Rex Lapis in Yujing Terrace, he felt the same unease that had consumed the city over the course of the week. The sky above him was covered in clouds, as if to emphasize the weighing doubts and fears of the people of Liyue, no matter how the Qixing had tried to quell the surging rumours and keep people calm.

The God of Contracts had not made his choice.

The selection of the new emperor had never in the records of history been longer than four days. Even that on just a single occasion, because the one selected was a fleet captain who had not yet returned to his home shores. The god’s choice would either make themself known or be found by the adepti who could sense the presence of their lord. The coronation of the new Rex Lapis usually took place the following day after the Rite of Parting for their predecessor.

But this time, no one had stepped forth. Nor had the adepti been able to find their god. Along with the sudden passing of their ruler under mysterious circumstances, the people of Liyue were crippled with rising uneasiness.

Zhongli tried to shift his thoughts back to his work, but everything was ready for the rite and he had done all he could. Now that the immediate pressure to work had shifted into waiting, he too would find his eyes turning to gaze towards the silent palace on Mt. Tianheng. Where had their ancient god, the Lord of Geo, disappeared to?

Chapter Text

“My. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Mr. Zhongli,” Hu Tao praised him, sounding equally sincere and teasing to Zhongli’s ears. As per usual when they were in public, she was adding the mister in front of his name again. Zhongli kind of wished she’d stick to one or the other. “I couldn’t have asked for a better Rite of Parting organized as the first divine funeral for the Parlor under my care. It was the right decision to entrust the preparations to you.”

Zhongli glanced at her with a frown. “Director, I’m a consultant who specializes in traditional and historical methods and details. It would be unbecoming of me to not put my everything into the Rite of Parting of all things.”

Hu Tao chuckled. “Aiya, can’t you just take the compliment? This was your first as well, was it not? If someone had doubts about your expertise, they certainly won’t have those anymore. Not that anyone really did, as far as I know. Credit is given where the credit is due, as they say.”

“She is correct, Mr. Zhongli,” the adeptus next to them chimed in and offered Zhongli a little smile after briefly casting forlorn glance at the altar. “Our lord the 27^th Rex Lapis was a great appreciator of beauty and arts. I know his soul will be nothing but delighted with the send-off you have prepared for him. For that, you will have our profoundest thanks.”

Zhongli bowed his head down to her. “You’re most welcome, miss Ganyu. It was the least I could do.” He wished his work could offer some relief to the adepti and Qixing members as well. He had encountered many through work this past week and as days had progressed, he had seen the small cracks forming in some masks of professionalism due to all the stress and uncertainty. He couldn’t help but wonder what must have it been like from the point of view of someone as close to Rex Lapis and the God of Contracts as head secretary Ganyu, to lose contact with a god you had served for thousands of years.

In truth, he had found himself more determined to make everything perfect than even he thought he would. Often when a thought like “is this as it should be?” had crossed his mind, he had had this nagging sensation that something was missing or wrong, spurring him onto another round of research, only to find some obscure detail he had not known or forgotten about. He was somewhat proud of his own wealth of knowledge and memory regarding his expertise, but this week had reminded of him to never be arrogant about it.

This particular feeling that something more could still be done had led to some long nights and early mornings at work this past week. Actually, he had hardly slept at all, but for now the pressure of work was keeping him from crashing still. He wondered how hard everything would hit as soon as the Rite was over and his body registered it had a day off.

The Rite of Parting started when the sun was at its zenith. Zhongli stood to the side of the crowd, watching the official ceremony take place. He needed to remain at the venue all the way through the Rite to help with the proper handling of things if need be. The funeral altar would remain in place for five days after the official Rite of Parting, so that people could come visit it and pay their respects to the emperor. If things had been normal, tomorrow the new Rex Lapis would have made his first official public appearance after the coronation to pay respects to their predecessor. Things were not normal, however.

Still, the altar would have to be maintained and remain in good shape for the duration. The director had ordered him to take a day off for tomorrow, so Zhongli had made detailed instructions for the crew in charge of maintaining the site. For today however, he was still in charge of the Parlor’s contributions and would work closely with the Yuehai Pavilion and representative of the adepti who handled the actual ceremonies. So, he stood to the side, in a place they knew where to find him in the case there was a problem and listened to the Tianquan speak.

“Yet as hard to accept as it might be to us and many of you, life must go on,” Tianquan Ningguang continued her commemorative speech to the silent crowd. She raised her hand to her chest, attempting to convey to the people she was speaking from the heart, not simply reading out words from memory. “We the Qixing are aware of the doubts and fears that have spread among the people due to the unfortunate events.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. She was going to address this in the official funeral speech? Then again, it was the most likely time many people would hear and be willing to listen to her without interrupting.

“But for today, we ask that you look past the circling rumours that have consumed this story. For just today, please ease your minds from the worries of the future and remember the past, to honour its legacy. Should you see someone who struggles to accept, extent your hand and offer them your support,” Ningguang spoke, offering her own hand to the people. “Today is the day to stop and remember: to come together around what we together have lost. A week ago, when Liyue as a whole briefly lost its divine ruler, someone else lost a son. They lost a brother and a friend. A person who brought smiles to many people’s faces, through music and performance on the streets. And where another divine emperor will rise, this person will never return to the people who loved him. Today we will not honour the title but the person who was Rex Lapis.”

So that’s how she’s going to spin this, Zhongli thought, sombrely smiling. Reminding people that the memorial honoured something other than a god. It had always been so, but in their eagerness to see who the new emperor would be, people often forgot. In the eyes of many, Rex Lapis was immortal. But if he truly was so, there would be no Rite of Parting. Zhongli found himself hoping that perhaps now that no new emperor had yet been chosen, more people might remember that.

Suddenly he felt something coil in his chest. A tight, twisting lump that almost felt as if he was overcome by sadness, yet tears did not fall. Zhongli raised a hand to his chest as the feeling lingered a moment before dissipating. Was he… this distraught about the events? He hadn’t known the emperor personally, but this feeling most reminded him of the time he had lost his own family. Perhaps all the work this past week was getting to him after all.

Ningguang was continuing her speech, listing things now that the late emperor had accomplished the people could remember him by. While listening, Zhongli realised that Ganyu was repeatedly stealing glances in his direction for some reason. It made him feel uneasy and he tried to look around the site to see if something was off that’d need his aid in fixing. But everything seemed to be in order still. He decided to stay put until clearly motioned or called, not wanting to disturb the funeral without a reason. Still, Ganyu’s repeated brief looks in his direction kept him on high alert.

After the Tianquan, the late emperor’s family made another speech to remember their family member. The emperor had been a son of one the noble families, that had with his coronation risen to the prestige of having more than one emperor chosen from the same family; an honour only a few noble lines shared. Zhongli couldn’t help but realise that where most of family members present looked to be grieving, some had a sterner look in their eyes that he didn’t quite like.

The official statement from the adepti came last, but it was very short compared to the other two. Ganyu spoke softly and briefly on behalf of the illuminated guardians, giving her condolences but carefully avoiding the topic of finding the successor. Zhongli had noticed since the start of the proceedings that outside the head secretary and the two cranes that were needed later to help with the ritual that had replaced the scattering of the ashes, almost no illuminated beasts were present. He had only briefly seen a few of the guardian yakshas on top of the buildings during the day.

Zhongli shook his head to stop himself from getting lost in thoughts about the situation. He should concentrate on the funeral and leave the rest to other people. This was his job and the way he could be of use. He should not bother the adepti with theirs. The Tianquan herself had stated earlier that this should be the day to remember the past, not worry about the future. He needed to concentrate.

The ritual Zhongli had dug up to replace the portion of the Rite where the ashes would be scattered (or sent to be scattered with an official convoy, depending), was an old funeral rite originating from the Minlin region. It had never been performed for Rex Lapis before, but since this emperor had been particularly fond of old festivals and traditions to try an revive every few years, it had felt like an appropriate substitution. That was how the Qixing explained the change in traditions to the public as well. It was a practice used for people whose bodies could not be retrieved, mainly used in the case of mining accidents, landslides or if a sailor never returned from the sea.

Zhongli watched along with the crowd as the two adeptus cranes lifted up the heavy canvas, decorated with the emperor’s personal seal and filled to bursting with flowers. The adepti flew it first over the people attending the Rite, then continued to a tour over the city streets. After flying down the main streets all the way to South Wharf, the rest of the petals would be scattered over the sea while the adepti looped back to the Terrace.

The ritual originally included a practice of gathering something from every household who sent their condolences, usually flowers although it depended on the season, then either scattering them to the wind or floating them down a river. For this instance, Zhongli together with the Yuehai Pavilion employees had called out to the people of Liyue to participate to gather flowers for the emperor, even just a few per citizen.

He hoped that perhaps by getting to be part of this old ritual, even if just a little, the citizens of the Harbor would find this substitution more meaningful. An arrangement of flowers had been set next to the altar on a separate pedestal to be taken to the Crypt later. The God of Contracts would also have to accept a substitution to be laid to rest with him later. But that was a private event for the adepti, the Qixing and the emperor’s family.

He watched the flower petals float down from the canvas as it was flown over the city, leaving behind a colourful trail, hoping this would offer some solace to the soul of their ruler. Rest in peace, your majesty.

As the official ceremonies finished and were replaced by people coming to pay their respects by the altar, Zhongli breathed out a small sigh of relief. That was most of his duties done now and everything had gone well. He would still check that everything was in order and say his own official goodbyes to the late emperor, before excusing himself to rest. Many other celebrations would happen in town during the following days, but he wanted a moment to himself before taking them all in. He wasn’t tired per se, but the compiled pressure from work would require a moment to let him truly relax. As much as he enjoyed his job, the week had been long.

“Mr. Zhongli?”

He turned around and smiled to the blue haired adeptus who had come to him through the crowd. “Good work out there, miss Ganyu. And thank you for your speech. Shorter than the usual perhaps, but touching nonetheless.”

Ganyu shook her head. “No, no, it was nothing, I doubt people got what they wanted to hear from mine,” she said quickly and cleared her throat. “But, um, Mr. Zhongli…”

“Ah, yes, my apologies,” Zhongli replied, wondering what had made the adeptus suddenly act timid with him. They had been working together for a few days now without problems. “Was there something you wanted to ask? I noticed you looking in my direction during the Rite. Was there something wrong I failed to notice?”

“What? Oh! No. Nothing is wrong. You noticed that? I mean: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude,” Ganyu quickly assured, succeeding only in making Zhongli more concerned about her behaviour. “I was just wondering if… um… Excuse me.”

Zhongli quirked his eyebrows as Ganyu reached out and took his hand into hers. The adeptus clasped his glowed hand with both of her own and stared intently down at them. Zhongli was unsure what was going on. Ganyu’s face tensed with deep concentration, her hands tightening around his. Then she frowned and her mouth twitched, the expression shifting into that of confusion.

“Miss Ganyu?” Zhongli asked cautiously, not sure if it was alright for him to interrupt.

Ganyu blinked and her eyes shot up to meet his. She held his hand for a second longer before letting go as if the hand was suddenly too hot to touch.

“My apologies! That was inappropriate of me,” she apologised hastily and avoided looking him in the eyes. “I just thought… erm… never mind. Thank you again for your work with the Rite of Parting. I hope you enjoy the rest of the festivities. If you’ll excuse me, I still have some work to do,” she bid him farewell and offered him a respecting nod before turning around and walking away with a hasty step that made it look like she was trying hard not to run.

Zhongli looked after her, half wanting to stop her and make sure nothing was actually wrong. He ultimately decided to trust her words and not to disturb her further if she was busy. He told himself to not let it bother him: he needed to go around the decorations and check that everything was in place. After that came the final briefing with the employees taking care of the site after he left. He also needed to find his boss still, before dusting work off his shoulders for the day.

With that in mind he got to work, not noticing the last few glances the head secretary sent in his direction before leaving the site.

Ganyu hurried off the Terrace and walked straight in from the side door of the Yuehai Pavilion, closing the door behind her. She could hear distant sounds of people working in the main area, but this part of the building had quieted down during the celebrations.

Once she was certain no one could see her, she sighed and covered her face with her palms. “Am I just getting desperate?” she asked herself, walking back and forth in the corridor. “But it felt so real…”

“What’s wrong?”

Ganyu jumped at the sound of another’s voice and turned around to see the green haired man leaning against the door she had earlier closed. “Xiao,” she more acknowledged than greeted him. “Why are you here?”

“I saw you leave the venue in a hurry,” the yaksha replied, his expression turning a little darker. “Did something happen?”

Ganyu shook her head. “No, it’s nothing. Or…” She sighed. “I don’t know.” Xiao frowned as the qilin hid behind her palms again. She could feel him not accepting that for an answer. “It was just for a second but…” Ganyu said quietly and looked at Xiao with a desperate look. “I felt him.”

Xiao straightened, alerted. “You did? Are you sure?”

Ganyu groaned and buried her face again. “I know I did. It was for just a moment but it was so clear. But the more I think back to it, the less sure I am.”

“Do you know who it was?” Xiao asked, coming to stand beside her.

Ganyu hesitated. “I thought so. But when I went to check on him closer after the Rite, I sensed nothing. Now I no longer know.”

“Who was it?”

“The consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”

“Huh? A consultant?” Xiao racked his brain to know who she was talking about. “You mean the person who organized the Rite?”

Ganyu nodded. “His name is Mr. Zhongli. He works at the Parlor as an expert for traditional proceedings and rituals,” she explained and then looked away embarrassed after remembering the consultant’s confused look when she had unexpectedly grabbed his hand. “But as I said, I sensed nothing from him again, even when I went directly over to touch him.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shivered as another wave of anxiety hit her. “Ooh, lord Morax, where are you…”

Xiao huffed. “You should trust him. Whatever it is, our lord will have his reasons to bide his time.”

“But I can’t shake the feeling that something might be wrong,” Ganyu argued back and looked at the other with pleading eyes. “He tried so hard to save him. What if something went wrong in the end? What if he is somewhere and needs our help?”

“That is why we’re all doing our best to look for him,” Xiao replied and gave her a harsh look. “Your job is to support the humans and make sure people don’t start panicking while we look. You need to pull yourself together.”

“I know,” Ganyu said and took a breath, trying to hide her distress from her face. “I just… The moment that I thought I found him felt so real. It was hard to concentrate during the Rite. Ah, I butchered the speech too… Cloud Retainer will lecture me later about it, no doubt.”

“As long as you don’t look so miserable when you go back out to the people,” Xiao continued, dodging her silent plea to confront the white crane together. “If we start showing distress, the citizens will…”

“I know,” Ganyu interrupted and exhaled slowly. “I know.”

Xiao nodded. “Good. In the meantime, I’ll go take a look at that consultant myself.”

.

It ended up already being late in the evening before Zhongli was walking home. After he had been done with the venue checks and meetings he had scheduled for himself, it had come to light that many people wanted to talk to him. One of the secretaries of the Tianquan had come just as he had been about to bid Hu Tao a nice day and excuse himself, telling him that the Qixing still had something they wished to discuss. He had met with the Yuheng of the Qixing, Keqing, but what was supposed to be a short discussion about some of the arrangements for the coming days, got prolonged because of other people coming to talk with the Yuheng on more urgent matters.

After that was done, he had been interrupted by the family of the late emperor, which had by far been the most tiring part of his day. While some of them just wanted to thank him, a few of the family members were rather obviously not pleased that the traditions were changed for their relative and complained to him about them not being kept. Explaining things to people who do not wish to hear anything against their own opinion was unpleasant at best. It was not like Zhongli had made the decision to not cremate the body, which they had not even been given access to. But it seemed that to some a better idea would have been to cremate someone else as a body double so the legacy of their relative wouldn’t be remembered by something as lame as a commoner practice of scattering flowers to the streets. His mood for the day had soured considerably while explaining how if not actual murder, how downright sacrilegious that would have been.

After that, he had dismissed the thought of getting in the crowd to queue for a turn to leave his blessings at the altar, deciding to come back another day. He needed a moment to himself and went to have dinner and listen to the storyteller at one of his favourite restaurants. Today’s tales were all about the adventures of Rex Lapis through generations. He had ended up sitting there drinking tea well into the evening and even on his way home he took his time to browse some street vendor shops he passed. The main streets of Liyue never slept, especially during big events such as the Rite of Parting and he found it relaxing to walk around the Harbour at a leisurely pace.

By the time he had reached the quieter streets next to his home, the sun had set and the bustle of the harbour below the city had quieted down. Zhongli breathed in the night air, finally alone after a long day. Miraculously, his body hadn’t demanded sleep from him yet, but the calm atmosphere still felt comfortable. Maybe he should spend his day off tomorrow just by himself, reading a book perhaps or walking outside the city if the weather was nice.

In the middle of smiling at this thought, he felt a sudden chill run down his spine and stopped. A quick glance around told him that there was no one around, yet he felt as if someone was watching him. Suddenly hyperaware of all the dark corners nearby, he forced his legs to move faster. He kept a steady pace and tried not to run, in the case there was someone truly out there who might become agitated to chase him if they thought they were noticed.

Taking a deep breath, Zhongli reached out towards his vision hanging behind his back, calling on its power with his mind. He almost never used it but, if need be, he wasn’t completely defenceless.

But what was causing this uneasiness? It wasn’t the first time he had walked the streets at night and this weird feeling that something was off about his surroundings had started without a warning. None of his senses told him about a presence of another nearby. It was only that shiver down his spine that made him vary.

As he reached his front door and unlocked it, Zhongli tried to hold back a sigh of relief. The feeling persisted, but although it made him cautious, he wasn’t certain the reason was something malicious. It was more like… telling him to stay alert, just in case.

He closed the door and took a deep breath. Perhaps he was just getting tired. It was time to settle down and catch up on sleep.

On the outside, gazing at his closed front door, a green haired yaksha furrowed his brows deep in thought, before disappearing into a trail of green and black smoke. With his departure, the uneasy feeling in Zhongli’s chest dissipated, although he simply thought of it as him getting inside and being in the perceived safety of his home. With the uncomfortable feeling gone, he tried to relax and let both his mind and body rest.

He tried.

He truly did.

But even as hours ticked by, he couldn’t fall asleep.

.

Xiao hopped across the rooftops, his eyes scanning the people he saw underneath. None of them noticed him passing by or at least paid him no mind if they did. His frown deepened as he came to a stop at the topmost roof of the Yuehai Pavilion, next to one of his fellow yakshas.

“You look grimmer than usual,” the blue-clad woman crouching on the crest of the roof noted as a greeting, glancing towards Xiao before her eyes returned to gaze down towards now quieted down funeral site below. Only the millelith guards were outside at Yujing Terrace at this hour.

“I followed a man Ganyu was suspicious about for a while today,” Xiao replied, crossing his arms and followed her colleague’s gaze to watch over the memorial altar.

“Oh?” Bonanus leant a hand on her chin and gave him a curious look. “From your looks, I’m guessing it was a cold trail?”

Xiao frowned. “You could say that.”

“Buuuut?” she urged him to continue.

Xiao closed his eyes for a while. “Ganyu stated that she felt our lord only briefly before his presence disappeared. Our leads are scarce, so I decided to follow the man she suspected to be the source. But… I could not sense our lord’s influence from him either. That much is true.”

Bonanus tilted her head ever so slightly. “Then what?”

Xiao exhaled a little, trying make sense of things. “He could sense my presence.” He shared a look with her, knowing from the way her eyebrows shot up that she thought the same as him: not just anyone could do that. When Bonanus remained silent, Xiao turned his eyes to look over the rooftops of Liyue Harbour. “I’ll talk with the others. Our lord’s successor is not the only person we need to track down after all. If this consultant acts suspicious, I’ll deal with him myself.”

.

Simply being on his own and in a quiet place seemed to be enough for him to regain energy. Even if he went to bed, he wasn’t sleepy. So instead, Zhongli got up and read a book, at a little table by the window with only a small light keeping him company. At times he found himself closing his eyes to meditate, but upon opening them, only by glancing into the moon outside he could tell almost no time had passed, barely an hour at most.

It was when the sun rose and he still felt no fatigue, quite the opposite in fact, that Zhongli started to grow worried. He was no fool. This night was very little different from others this week. Those night he had simply named it to be a form of stress from having an important task: he himself not being able to shut his mind down to rest when there was a feeling that something needed to be done. But that was no longer the case. And adding this night on top of all the others, there was no way his body wasn’t tired. In fact, he should have been exhausted.

Zhongli set aside his book and leant back on his chair. The sunrise outside was beautifully hitting the roofs and streets of the city, but he closed his eyes to it. Whatever this adrenaline spike was, it wasn’t healthy. Somehow, he’d have to trick his body to rest, no matter what it tried to tell him.

Rather than simply tell himself to rest, perhaps showing by example would do the trick? Keeping his eyes closed, he willed himself to relax: to not think of anything in particular and to get lost in the feeling of the comfortable chair under him and the soft refreshing breeze through the tiny crack of an open window. He was comfortable. He was safe. He was—

—wide awake the next second.

The chair under him had disappeared, so had the feeling of soft wind on his skin. He was standing, rough soil crunching under his feet and an evening sun was illuminating the scenery around him.

Almost stumbling over at the sudden change before he could catch himself, Zhongli’s breath shook as he stared at the city around him that he had never seen. The white houses made of stone. The trimmed arrangements of flowers and greenery. The paved streets that showed their years of use but valiantly held up the tens, the hundreds of people that walked around him. All unknown. All right there in front of him. The city around him lived its own life, yet each sound he heard from those around him make was broken, distorted and unintelligible.

As the city around him moved and went on with its day, Zhongli himself once again found himself frozen in place. This is…

It felt too real. The sun, the streets and the brush against his shoulder when someone passed by too close. It was real. He had never seen this place. He had never met these people. But…

He suddenly felt a wave of water wash against his feet and his gaze dropped down, to see the murky, dark water that had covered his legs up to his ankles. When he raised his head again, the town around him was empty and silent. Water filled the streets and sploshed around in an eerie, ghost of city that had a second ago bustled with life. The houses that had been shining in the evening sun were in ruins, crumbling apart into the muddied streets.

Zhongli shook as a fresh wave of panic threatened to rise inside him. This was the same as last time. A real looking and beautiful scenery brought apart in a blink of an eye. His memories from around a week ago made his blood run cold. He forced himself to keep calm and not panic like last time. There were forces at play here that he had no say against, but panicking had brought him nowhere before. He couldn’t reach out to his vision, but somehow, he needed to find a way to survive this dream, whatever it decided to throw at him. Previously, he had only been saved by the stranger in white. He looked around at the scene, wondering if that person would show up. There was no one around. He couldn’t base his action around the assumption he was going to be saved.

He felt something grab around his ankles and his eyes turned to look down again. The water on the streets was forming into shapes and wrapping around his legs, squeezing them tighter and tighter. He tried to struggle himself free, put the grip was strong. He almost lost his balance as the water tugged his leg backwards.

“Let go of me,” Zhongli breathed out and managed to stomp his heel against a tentacle of water holding him down and it dissipated, freeing his left leg momentarily.

His victory was short lived. As he tried to use the freed-up leg to aid the other the same way, the water around him surged up from all sides, caging him inside and closing around him like a cocoon. He felt both of his legs grabbed again, the water closing in and pulling him down to sink into the muddy ground below.

Before the cocoon above him could close or the fast-rising tide envelop him entirely, a slash of light cut through the water and tore it apart, sending a shower of droplets all around with an explosive force. Before the water could fall back to the ground, white fog had already spread around the area and hidden Zhongli from the world.

A hand emerged through the fog and grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him up from the ground and freeing his legs from the mud. After the hand, Zhongli saw the white robe and a hooded face, obscured by mist but appearing in front of him as if materializing from the mist itself.

Fully materializing, the person lifted them both up from the ground, where they floated above the now almost hidden ruined landscape. “You’re here… You’re here again?” the white-hooded man uttered in disbelief. His fist tightened on Zhongli’s collar. “How? I made sure this time we were separate enough while I rested! How are you here?!”

Zhongli was equal parts overwhelmed by confusion and taken aback. This man he now saw better but still not clearly through the mist sounded desperate: not demanding answers from him in anger, but genuinely confused. It was the same familiar voice again and now seeing him at least a little better, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had met the person as well.

The man looked like he expected an answer from him. “I…” he tried to reply, unsure himself as to what was going on. “I do not know.” Zhongli saw the man’s head turn a little bit, indicating he was hearing his explanation out. He was allowed to talk here then? What should he say? “I couldn’t sleep.” He decided to go with the truth. “When I tried, I ended up here.”

The fist grabbing his clothes loosened and the other man’s form drooped down as if defeat. For a second Zhongli wondered if he had said something wrong. To his surprise, the next thing that left the man’s lips was a laugh. “Unbelievable. I never would have guessed you were this sensitive to my powers,” the man said and if he noticed Zhongli’s confusion about his answer, he didn’t show it. “If this was any other occasion, this would be positively thrilling. But right now… this complicates things…”

Zhongli startled a little when the man’s back slumped further and the hand on his chest slid down, letting go of his clothes. The man swayed to the side as if losing balance and on instinct Zhongli reached out to grab his shoulder and support him. “Are… you alright?”

The man chuckled and his head drooped down against the arm that now kept him upright. “You? Worried about me? What have I become…?” His other hand grabbed onto Zhongli’s forearm but he didn’t try to push himself up or away from him. “If you must know: no. I’m exhausted. But there is something I must do still. Listen… I’ve tried to keep myself hidden while I recover. I don’t want you in the harm’s way while I have to wait for others to make their moves. The longer we are in contact, the more likely you’ll be found before I see things through till the end. I admittedly slipped today during the Rite, but this is my problem. But if you’re this sensitive to my presence…”

There was a short break, when the man seemed to be thinking things through, but Zhongli couldn’t say anything to intervene. He could only listen, stunned, as the man whose identity he was starting to question, spoke.

The man took a deep breath and sighed. “Then the fact that you cannot rest is probably my fault. But if I helped you deal with it, my people would find you. Last time this happened the adepti were not on high alert yet but it is different now. You’ll end up involved before even the Ascension.” The hand on Zhongli’s arm squeezed him so tight Zhongli almost flinched. “I do not want that.” The man let go of him and the white fog grew dense, reminiscent of last time. “Go back. I’ll do my best to cover your tracks. After that just… let me rest for a while longer,” the man asked, sounding tired. Before disappearing from sight, he groaned. “But for Celestia’s sake, if this happens again, please speak up sooner so I can notice and locate you. It is not safe for you to come into contact with such a raw representation and tight bundle of my power so soon after I joined you.”

The white fog tightened, encasing everything in darkness around Zhongli.

“If something does happen despite my efforts, I will help you,” he heard the last echoes of the man’s voice promise anew, before he returned to his own body.

Morning sun hit gently against him as Zhongli found himself shivering on the floor next to his chair, struggling to catch his breath. His vision remained blurry for a moment, but the heaviness wasn’t as bad as last time. But even as the tight feeling in his chest dissipated and let him breath normally, Zhongli remained on the floor, not finding the strength in himself to get up. His gaze was fixed on the floating dust particles that lit up in the sunlight, until they were obscured behind his own hands as he buried his fingers into his hair.

Someone mustn’t “find him”? “Ascension”? “The adepti”? “Joined” him?

His brain was putting pieces together in a way that made no sense to him. He had always thought himself to be a rational person, but now his own thoughts were failing him. There was no way the person in white was who his brain was telling him it was. It was not possible.

Chapter Text

It was absurd.

Zhongli pushed himself up enough to grab hold of the chair and sat on the floor leaning against it. His breathing had steadied and returned to normal, but he still found himself heaving as he sorted his thoughts. Nothing made sense to him.

“It was just a dream…” he tried mumbling to himself, denying all the input from his senses that had registered it as a real experience. “Just a vivid dream. Everything is finally getting to me. That’s it. Nothing more… nothing…”

Lying to himself about how real this “dream” had felt did not calm him down. He wasn’t used to feeling like this so violently. Keeping his cool and not letting his emotions take control was what he was good at. Having lived alone since he was twelve had demanded that from him to get anywhere in life. Even now, having Hu Tao for a boss required him to be ready to be the adult in the room at all times. He was someone people came to for advice, not the other way around. That is who he had become. That is who he had to be.

Zhongli took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of himself. This wasn’t like him. He could control himself better than this. Whatever it was, he would find a way to deal with it. Calmly. Rationally.

Supporting himself against the chair and the table he stood, denying the shaking in his legs, forcing them to hold his weight. He was better than this. He had established early on in his life that standing up alone was a skill required of him. It had served him so far and it would do so now as well. He just had to push himself past this.

He wasn’t going to accept his thinking so easily. It was specifically the word “ascension” within all the man had said that had triggered him to believe his immediate conclusion of all the other pieces. The Rite of Ascension. The ritual where everyone, adepti and human, acknowledged the… No. The more he thought about it rationally, the less sense it made. There had to be another explanation that he simply hadn't thought of yet. Or otherwise, it truly was just a very lucid dream his stressed-up mind had conjured up in response to everything that had happened recently.

This wasn’t him secretly growing conceited over others, was it? Some hidden arrogance about his abilities or place as a citizen of Liyue? The possibility made him wince. Why else would he dream of or even entertain such thoughts? Not possible. He knew himself better than that. In Liyue, everyone had their place. Everyone had a place or role where they would be needed and wanted. That is how society functioned: with an individual finding where they could stand as a part of a whole as themselves within the confines of the society’s rules and standards. He had found his place from the Funeral Parlor. A place where even his obscure talents and interests were of use. There was no way someone like him could ever be—

He wouldn’t even finish that thought. Zhongli poured himself a glass of water and gripped the edge of his water basin as he gulped it down in one. He needed to calm down. He needed to get that… dream out his mind.

Before he even realised it, he had changed his clothes and opened his front door, stepping outside to the early morning sunlight. He needed fresh air. He needed something to do.

Please, get these thoughts out of my mind, Zhongli asked silently, running his hand through his hair he now realised he hadn’t touched since yesterday. He combed through it with his fingers, hoping it was enough to make it presentable. The Harbor around him was coming to life after the night, slowly but eagerly.

His feet automatically took him to the direction of the Funeral Parlor. He greeted the Ferrylady at the door, dismissing her surprise of seeing him at such an early hour on his day off, and went inside to his office. He stopped after he had closed the door. What was he supposed to do? It was his day off: he didn’t have any specific assignments. There were a few things he could do, but all of them required meeting other people, some of who knew he was supposed to be on vacation. Was hoping that Hu Tao would not find out he was here a fool’s wish?

Someone had brought some documents from yesterday and a letter to his desk, intended for him to receive when he returned. Zhongli sat down behind his desk and after glancing at the letter, started reading through the reports. The financial side of things still needed his attention before the Rite of Parting could be wrapped up.

He didn’t even get through the first document before the door to his office was busted open loudly and he sighed as his fool’s wish refused to come true so soon.

“For all your knowledge, old man, do you not know what a day off means?” Hu Tao asked and walked over to his desk.

Zhongli took a calm breath, bracing himself to deal with his boss so early in the morning. The Ferrylady must have tipped her off. Why was she here this early anyway? “Good morning, director. I only came to get something and then saw these on my desk. I thought I might as well read them through while I’m here.”

“Oh dear.” Hu Tao crossed her arms. “Zhongli, are you perhaps unaware that you are bad at lying?”

Zhongli raised her eyebrows at her. “Director?”

Hu Tao shrugged melodramatically. “Because you just happened to need something from your office so bad, you came to get it at six in the morning? Am I getting that right?” She shook her head and sighed. “I saw you work last week: you were here before anyone and left after everyone. Every day. The Rite was flawless and as your boss I could not be more pleased, but there is no way you are not dead tired, old man. Basically, already half a corpse underneath that charming frown I’m guessing. I know a person who is high-strung from work when I see one, Zhongli. And I know you are smart enough yourself to know that too.”

Zhongli averted his gaze. Curse this child for being so perceptive with the tiniest most random things. But now that it was pointed out, he supposed the lie was rather obvious. Of course, she didn’t have all the facts so she wasn’t completely on the money, but…

“See?” Hu Tao enjoyed making him agree with her and giggled. “You’re too honest for your own good. Don’t get me wrong, I am certain you could fool the entire city if you put enough time and effort into it, but making up something on the spot just isn’t your thing,” she chatted cheerfully and put both of her hands on Zhongli’s desk, leaning over it towards him and making Zhongli automatically sit up straight to keep the distance proper. “Three days.”

Zhongli frowned. “Excuse me?”

Hu Tao gave him her most charming smile. “Your vacation time has been extended to three days. The order is effective immediately. Now put down those papers and go play dead for a while until your body catches up with the facts. You can even use the sofa in my office if you’d like. Oh! And I solemnly swear just this once that I will not draw on your face, so rest easy.”

Zhongli was dumbfounded. “Director, today aside I have work to do tomorrow;” he protested, a scowl forming on his face.

“Nu-uh.” Hu Tao wiggled her finger at him, as if scolding a child. “The work can either wait or be distributed to someone else. You might be feeling fine, but you need to rest and it seems just a good night’s sleep isn’t enough here. Isn’t this the same lecture that you’re usually giving me?”

Zhongli flared at her a little. “That is because you are reckless and forgo both sleep and treatment for your injuries when you think you have a spirit-involved case to solve.”

“Oh, you know me so well,” Hu Tao hummed, sounding proud and stood up straight again. “Now tell me, how is the lecture I am giving you right now any different from the one you usually give me at those moments?”

“And when have you ever listened to my advice at those moments, director Hu?”

“Aiya, you got me there, I’ll admit. But the difference here is that I am your boss: my word on this is final and you are obligated to listen.”

Zhongli groaned and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. “Director, please. You need not do this. I’m okay. Do not worry yourself.”

Hu Tao was losing her smiley edge now and slipping to her serious side. “Last time you said that to me was after I had spent ten minutes next to you on the floor wondering whether you’d draw another breath. So excuse me for not being convinced. Speaking of which, that hasn’t happened again, has it?”

NO, not ‘speaking of which’, please do not bring that up right now, Zhongli flinched at the one subject he was trying to avoid by being here in the first place. He needed to sort out his thoughts and get on top of himself before this line of questioning could be safely treaded.

His flinch and silence as an answer was enough to make Hu Tao round the table and cup his cheeks to make him look at her. “Zhongli, has it? Do not lie to me about this.”

Great… Zhongli closed his eyes. “…This morning. But it passed quickly.”

He felt Hu Tao’s hands shiver. “And your solution to deal with it was to come to work?!”

Zhongli grunted and grabbed the hands holding onto him by the wrists, pushing them away. “Director, please, I… I have a guess as to why it happens now, but… I’m afraid it is… private.” Let’s go with that. “I’ll deal with it, so just please: I can do my job while I do so.” Please do not extent my “vacation” right now, how else will I keep my mind off of… everything else.

“Well then that three-day vacation should offer you a nice head start with the handling of it,” Hu Tao said while wrestling her hands free off his hold and supressed Zhongli’s protest with a finger tapped against his lips. “There will be no further discussion on this. And promise me that you’ll go see a doctor today.”

“Director—”

“I’m accepting exactly one thing for an answer.”

Zhongli sighed and pushed her finger away. “I promise.”

“Good,” Hu Tao said, satisfied and turned around towards the door. “Now come with me. Your vacation starts on my office couch at least until noon.”

Zhongli arranged the reports on his desk and held back an audible groan. “Hu Tao.” That made the girl stop, he rarely called her by name. “You can start with your own work. Isn’t that why you’re here early? You don’t need to babysit me like this.”

Hu Tao peeked over her shoulder. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have to do so if the old man wasn’t acting like a baby today.”

“I promise to take proper care of myself,” he swore, knowing Hu Tao knew to trust when he promised something. “Why are you doing this?”

His boss turned around and Zhongli stopped at seeing her expression. “Because you are not acting yourself,” she replied empathetically. “Zhongli, you’re one of the most steadfast people I know. You always find the solution or have the information we need, never slack off while working, are always ready to aid others with their jobs and never turn up results that aren’t satisfactory. That is why it is so worthwhile to tease you: just to see past that pristine work ethic even just a little. Who is it that always waits for me to get back to the Parlor from my nightly excursions after their work hours to treat those wounds you complain to me about, Zhongli? Need I remind you of the time you actually came to look for me because I wasn’t back at sunrise? That is the person I’ve come to know ever since you started working here, even before I took over.”

Hu Tao pressed her lips to a tight line and took a moment to look at him in silence before continuing. “And right now, that person is fraying at the seams in front of me. Isn’t caring about your health the least I could do? Now, keep your hands off those papers and come to my office so I can do some emergency management of a stubborn employee, who insist on working until they’re on my client list.”

When she left, Zhongli leant back on his chair and threw his arm over his eyes. Was he that transparent? He was so used to being able to hide his thoughts and feelings under a mask if needed, that not being able to do so was actually quite distressing in and of itself. He really should have taken a look into a mirror before leaving his house. He had no idea what he looked like or how obvious was it that he wasn’t at the top of his game. That it was obvious enough for Hu Tao to call him out on it told him it was bad enough. He had made her worry. Again. Just what was he doing?

He made his way to the director’s office and after a moment of hesitation, sat down on the couch. There was a pillow and a blanket on the cushions next to him, not neatly set but already wrinkled, having seen use. Had the director slept here tonight? Then the Ferrylady must have come to wake her up after seeing Zhongli. Was he doing so bad even she had noticed? Just perfect… Zhongli admitted defeat. Hu Tao was not present, but if doing what she wanted for now would get that worried look off her eyes, he’d play along. He wasn’t tired still so he doubted he could sleep, but…

Zhongli leant his elbows against his knees and buried his face in his hands. What was he supposed to do? Would attempting to sleep send him back into one of those weird scenes? Would he end writhing on the floor with laboured breaths in front of Hu Tao again? What were those scenes even? The… that person had said he needed to speak up if that happened so they could find him because it was dangerous there. Another worried feeling joined the others inside him when Zhongli remembered back to how the person in white had leant on him for support, saying they were tired and needed to rest. If he ended up back there again, wouldn’t he disturb the other? Would he make it worse? Wait could… could gods get tired? What needed to happen to tire a god?

Wait, stop. He clutched his fingers against his scalp. His thoughts kept going back to it… You don’t know if he’s a god. Actually, no, not “if”: he is not, he cannot be. It doesn’t make any sense…

A touch on his shoulder startled him and he met Hu Tao’s eyes when he raised his head from his hands. He hadn’t heard her come in.

“Zhongli?” Hu Tao asked softly, keeping her hand hovering over his upper forearm. “Do you… want to talk?”

Absolutely not. “No.” Please do not ask. “I just… need some rest.” Please do not look at me like that. “But, thank you.”

“Mmhm,” Hu Tao hummed and took away her hand, handing a cup of tea and a branch of a fresh herb. Zhongli took the offered cup but frowned down at the herb, recognizing it as the one Hu Tao grew herself at the back of the Parlor. “I sell little bags of these leaves to clients who have nightmares or something of that nature. This is a new patch. I was hoping you’d test it for me?”

Zhongli huffed, slightly amused by her wording and took the little branch. Leave it to Hu Tao to find a way to extort grieving relatives. Although he supposed her heart was in the right place with this one. Albeit she was probably at least partially responsible for the nightmares at times and still used it as a business opportunity.

“You can soak them in the tea and drink it, or for a stronger effect pop one bravely into your mouth,” she explained and gestured him to drink his tea as she stood up. “The tea is the one you once bought from a vendor after a half an hour lecture about teas that help with sleep.”

Zhongli smiled a little, smelling the tea. It had a strong, earthy smell. “Valerian root. It has naturally occurring sedatives that help reduce stress, headaches, and heart palpitations. Not the best tasting tea, but effective when nervousness gets in the way of sleep. I’m glad you remembered.”

“Believe it or not, I do listen to you on occasion,” Hu Tao admitted cheerfully and watched Zhongli take a sip of the tea and pull one of the herb’s leaves loose with his teeth to eat it.

“Bitter,” he commented, chewing on the green, yellow-veined leaf. “And does not go well with the tea. You should serve them separately.”

Hu Tao chuckled. “Thank you for your feedback. We shall use it to improve our business. Now swallow at least… hmm: three of those for me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Even with the effects of the medicine, he was unable to sleep. It did help him relax, however, and to ease Hu Tao’s worries he laid on her office sofa, his eyes closed, at least pretending to sleep. It gave him time to think and because Hu Tao was often present in the room, he had something to occupy his mind with the pretence of sleep, helping him reign in his emotions.

Hu Tao had asked whether he’d like to talk and the more he thought about it, there actually was someone he would have liked to talk to. That person was head secretary Ganyu. Her odd behaviour with him yesterday was starting to click with him. Perhaps she had sensed… whoever the person in his dreams was. But…

Zhongli sighed, hoping it sounded like just him getting more comfortable with his sleep as he heard Hu Tao pause her writing behind the desk.

That person… they were tired and trying to hide. From what or who, he had no idea, but they had somehow found refuge in that space within the mist Zhongli had met them in. If he went out to search for help from the adepti, in hopes of getting answers, he felt he would be actively sabotaging that attempt. The memory of the man in white leaning his weight against him in effort to stand would not leave him. The man had saved him twice now. The least he could do in return was help the man recover from his fatigue. Could he do something to help?

He resisted the urge to frown and turned to face the back of the couch in the case he failed while Hu Tao was looking at him.

Was it possible that he was to blame for the man’s tiredness? He had stated that somehow Zhongli was “sensitive to their power” and that was the reason he now could not sleep. Was he… taking power from that person somehow then? The man had not explicitly said so, but Zhongli’s understanding of the whole affair was too limited to reach a conclusion.

And if… He had to force the thought out: if that person was indeed who he thought he was, getting in their way or being a burden was the last thing Zhongli wanted to do. Rather, he found himself trying to think up ways to help them instead. Could he somehow sever the connection and stop draining power from the other? Or was there something else he could do in specific to aid in whatever it was they apparently needed to do?

But if the problem with that was the possibility of Zhongli “being found” too early and the man had to use the power they should be reserving for their own recovery to prevent it, Zhongli getting involved might simply make matters worse. Was the best thing he could do truly to pretend nothing was wrong? That nothing was going on? More importantly, judging by how this morning had gone, even if he wanted to: could he do that? Even if his body didn’t grow tired, how long could his sanity take sleepless nights?

Hu Tao “woke him up” a little later, unsatisfied at how unrelaxed or lightly asleep he seemed to be, and Zhongli was treated to a light breakfast along with another cup of valerian root tea and a few leaves of the herb. According to Hu Tao, this much of the herb digested within a short while was enough for a grown man to sleep for almost around the clock.

It did help him relax further, but also convinced Zhongli that whatever was going on with his body was not normal. He could not sleep. The morning crawled forward as he continued to lie down in order to make Hu Tao not worry. Come midday and the end of his agreement with her, Zhongli “woke up” and ate a takeout dinner from Wanmin Restaurant with his boss before thanking her and excusing himself. He was made to repeat his promise to go see a doctor before leaving. His timely rise from slumber, after taking enough medicinal herbs to have him sleep until the evening, did not go unnoticed by the director and he knew that.

He left the Parlor swiftly, before Hu Tao could change her mind about letting him go (but not before taking a look into a mirror and fixing himself up a bit), and walked through the busy streets of midday Liyue Harbor. As per his promise, Bubu Pharmacy was his first destination. Doctor Baizhu himself was present to listen him tell a tale of insomnia and nightmare induced panic attacks, prescribing him some stronger medicine to aid with sleep. It was at this point that Zhongli realised he had left home in the morning without his wallet and had to have the bill sent to the Parlor instead. Not an unusual occurrence he admitted, but this time he’d have to pay Hu Tao back later. This was a personal expense and he had bothered her with the issue quite enough.

He wasn’t completely sure he had convinced the doctor with his story: Baizhu had given him a long, quiet look before giving him the medicine and instructed him to keep an eye on the symptoms of the so-called panic attacks, even advising him against of sleeping alone for a while. Zhongli wasn’t sure what to do with that last instruction.

When he was again walking the streets of the capital, aimlessly wandering in search of something to occupy his mind with, a familiar voice interrupted his hazed thoughts.

“Why if it isn’t mister Zhongli. What a coincidence.”

Zhongli snapped out of his thoughts and turned around to see the ginger haired man walking briskly to him to catch up. “Childe.” He nodded in greeting. “I see business yet keeps you in the Harbor?”

“Yup,” the harbinger replied with a light-hearted tone. “All work and no fun recently, I’m telling you. But I understand you have been quite busy yourself?”

“You could say that,” Zhongli replied distantly.

“The Rite this time was your handy work, right?” Childe continued to chat as they walked to the side of the street to chat, away from other traffic. “I watched the proceedings from a… special spot. I don’t imagine someone like myself would be welcome in the front row, now would I. But seeing the funeral of a divine emperor isn’t something you can witness just any day. I doubt I’ll get a chance to see another. I couldn’t just miss out on it.”

“Have you paid your respects at the memorial altar?” Zhongli asked, thanking this opportunity to chat with someone to break the strain of thoughts in his head momentarily. Although he didn’t quite agree with most methods of the Fatui, they were an important business associate of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and at least the harbinger in charge he had found to be pleasant company.

Childe shrugged. “To an extent of an official envoy of the Tsaritsa to deliver her condolences on his imperial majesty’s passing. Personally: no. The Fatui are under fire by the public again because of the rumours that we might have something to do with the emperor’s death as it is, so I don’t think I’m welcome near there any more than is required. And it’s not like I’m local.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “Has that ever actually stopped you from getting places I wonder?” he jested lightly, but found his brow furrowing a little as he continued. “I trust the Fatui did not in fact have a hand in the affairs this time around?”

“Comrade, you wound me,” Childe defended himself melodramatically, spreading his hands. “The Tsaritsa hardly has anything to gain from ridding Liyue of an emperor. It is not like we can affect the line of succession in a way that would benefit us in this case. The God of Contracts doesn’t seem to appreciate input from others on the matter.”

Zhongli huffed, a little amused. He somewhat appreciated Childe’s honesty in not denying that were there a cause or benefit, he would be open to doing it. There was a reason the Qixing kept the Fatui under close scrutiny. Besides, he had no doubt that Childe and the Fatui in general was interested in the current state of affairs. Perhaps the uncertainty in the air did in fact benefit them somehow.

“It’s been while, so how about we take a moment to chat?” the harbinger continued, causally dismissing the topic of imperial murder. “Have you had lunch? My treat, of course.”

Zhongli nodded. “I have in fact already eaten.” Before Childe could voice his disappointment, he continued. “But I would not be opposed to a cup of tea if you wish to chat while eating.”

“Hey: easier on my wallet, at least,” Childe agreed to the suggestion, like the amount of money involved had actually mattered. “Since the Rite of Parting has sprung this many street stalls with food, shall we go around to look for a place to have both a good lunch and decent tea to go with it?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Zhongli replied, with a small smile on his face. Although Childe was ranked among the last few people on his list to talk about his current situation with, his presence was a much needed distraction.

He enjoyed Childe’s company for little over an hour, before the other’s subordinates came to call their harbinger away on some business. Zhongli was honestly unsure what he did with his time after that. He walked here and there, browsed this and that on his way, talk to someone and maybe another. But in which order and how long it took him to find himself returning home again, he didn’t know. By the time he opened his front door, he was determined to give Baizhu’s medicine a try, even though the sun was still up.

It wasn’t just the body that was allowed rest during the sleep cycle and while something was keeping him up and running, the strain underneath was getting more real every hour he was aware of it. His body might not have demanded rest, but his mind did. Desperately.

When Zhongli had forced himself to relax on his bed and the sun was finally starting to set, Xiao huffed in irritation on a nearby rooftop and teleported away. He dashed his way across the Harbor towards Mt. Tianheng and the imperial palace. His day had been irritating, with anticipation that something could happen boiling under his skin, along with the frustration when nothing did. He would have taken even a definite denial of their suspicions over this uncertainty. He trusted their lord, from the bottom of his heart. But that didn’t stop him from wishing they had information or instructions to follow to be of use. Never had he been unable to sense their lord for this extended of a time since the contract of Mortal Divinity took place. Yes, at times when an emperor’s connection to their lord wasn’t strong, the presence was weaker, but it had always been there. This… nothingness was unsettling.

He crossed the magical boundary protecting the palace and teleported the rest of the way to main courtyard. The adepti already present nodded to him in greeting, some saying a word or two. It seemed he was one of the lasts to arrive, only Jade Seeker and Sea Gazer were yet to arrive. Xiao noticed Ganyu looking at him restlessly, no doubt wanting to hear about his findings from tailing the consultant for a day, but holding back until everyone was present.

When the wandering teapot spirit and four-horned deer* had joined them, Moon Carver stepped forth and spoke first. “All are in attendance. Yet one does not see a single expression among one’s companions that speaks of good news.”

No one said anything to that. No one needed to.

“Hmh,” Moon Carver hummed slowly, trying to reign in his disappointment. He looked around the adepti on the courtyard. “Let us commence, so that we may swiftly return to our duties. What news from the investigation outside the Harbor?”

“One has searched Qingce Village and its surroundings for two days now,” Mountain Shaper replied and stretched his wings. “Nothing there speaks of neither friend nor foe.”

“Only similar reports from the outskirts of The Sea of Clouds,” Indarias reported and Menogias nodded to agree. “We even searched the Guyun Stone Forest in the case of wandering adventurers.”

Skybracer closed his eyes. “No one of interest has entered Huaguang Stone Forest or Jueyun Karst.”

“One has kept an eye on Wangshu Inn, as promised. Everyone here can guess the results,” Cloud Retainer reported, clear irritation in her voice. She turned to look at Xiao. “One thinks we still have only one person of interest among our intel. Your report, Conqueror of Demons.”

“Xiao?” Ganyu asked as well nervous to hear what he had to say.

Xiao exhaled slowly. “I tailed the consultant as agreed, yes.”

“From your expression, I’m guessing there is not much to report,” Bosacius commented, crossing two of his four arms. “Did he sense you today?”

“I made sure to keep my distance. I do not think he did,” Xiao replied, shaking his head. “It took me a moment to find him during the morning. He had left home before I got there and went to the Funeral Parlor. But after that, I kept on his trail closely. But I sensed nothing today either.”

“One guesses we might be on a wild goose chase with this one as well,” Moon Carver said, but Xiao was quick to continue.

“I wouldn’t say that for certain. He did meet with that Fatui harbinger during the day.”

The air in the courtyard tensed at this information.

“That…” Ganyu stuttered. “That alone proofs little. I know the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and the Fatui are um… business associates. It could have been a friendly meeting.” She refused to believe that the person she had worked with for the funeral was somehow related to the death itself or their lord’s absence. Mr. Zhongli couldn’t possibly—

“What did they talk about?” Sea Gazer asked but Xiao shook his head.

“I couldn’t get too close to listen without being detected. It was in the middle of the day in the city: I could barely separate their voices from the crowd. All I could make out was unimportant chit chat.”

“That doesn’t proof anything when the Fatui are involved.”

“It does seem the consultant is not in good health,” Xiao continued his report and glanced at Madame Ping who nodded.

“I did go to speak with little Changsheng on your request,” the elderly adeptus told them. “It seems our consultant suffers from insomnia with peculiar symptoms. Someone from the Pharmacy was first called to check on him the morning after our lord’s passing.”

Cloud Retainer tapped her foot on the ground, creating a gust of wind around her. “Friends. Is it not time we re-entertain the idea that our lord has not appeared not because he will not but because he cannot? Previous Rex Lapis’ body and soul remain trapped. Our lord barely made it out himself. And the only lead we have is a person who falls victim to a mysterious illness the moment the incident happens and who abruptly flares with our lord’s presence. One was not personally close enough to sense it clearly at the time, to one’s disgrace, but even we could detect the shred of familiarity.” She glanced at Mountain Shaper who nodded in agreement. “Our Ganyu does not make up lies and our own experience backs up hers. The consultant is involved, one way or another, one is certain of this.”

“Are you suggesting our god could perhaps have been trapped within him?” Bosacius growled with a low tone and his features darkened. “And that the consultant might be aware of this?”

“Whether he is an accomplice or has been used, remains to be seen.”

.

You have got to be joking… Zhongli raised his hands to hold his head.

The scenery around him was that of rocky beach with jagged cliffs. He stood on top of a hill between higher cliffs, the waves of the ocean crashing against the shoreline some metres below, down the coarse slope.

This is not happening, he tried to tell himself. Baizhu’s medicine had forced his body to sleep, surprisingly, but that had only led him here. Is my only option really to not sleep at all? I’ll go crazy before this is over…

He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for a change of scenery that could happen at any moment. He should call out to the person in white, as the other man had asked him to. The notion of bothering the man so soon after he had just been told his presence complicated things, made Zhongli feel uncomfortable. Actually, the idea of seeing the man again in general was making him uncomfortable to be exact and it was not just because of an “hello, I’m here again, sorry, can you help me go back” issue either. The word ascension was still haunting his mind. Still, he needed to go to him to get back.

Just as he gathered himself enough to speak up, Zhongli paused with a little startle. White mist was floating in a knee-high veil above the ground. It was the same fog that had enveloped the previous times the man had come to see him. Zhongli turned around to scan his surroundings but saw no one. The scenery around him wasn’t changing either and the sound of the waves was suddenly distant.

Was he… safe?

On a whim, Zhongli reached down and dipped his hand into the fog. It moved around his arm like a liquid although he could not feel it against his skin. When he stood up straight again, the fog rose up with his hand as if creating an extra sleeve to hide his hand. His eyes examined the fog, noticing it moving slightly towards the sea.

Zhongli turned his eyes to look into the direction of the tight pass away from the beach from which the fog emerged. He took a cautious step, vary of his surroundings changing in an unpleasant way, but nothing did. His feet carried him forward slowly through the mist, towards where ever it was coming from. As he continued onwards, following the path beneath the cliffs, the fog rose slowly, reaching first his waist, then chest, until it had covered the entire landscape. Zhongli could barely see around him but he kept going, searching.

He is here. Somehow, he could tell.

He stopped when a tree emerged from the fog in front of him. And sitting on the ground, leaning his back against the trunk, Zhongli saw the person he was looking for.

The man in white was asleep. Zhongli crouched down next to him, trying to stay quiet as to not startle the other awake. Even this close, the features of the man’s face remained unclear, yet there still was definitely something familiar about him. His legs were curled up loosely sideways next to him on the ground and the arms rested on his lap. The sleep was restless: the man kept flinching ever so slightly every now and then, the muscles around his head and fingers tensing abruptly as if he was poked by invisible needles.

As Zhongli was wondering whether he should wake the other up, the man shivered violently. The muscles tensed up and the man trembled against the tree, head turning to the side with a little grunt escaping from his mouth. Zhongli was taken aback for a second but then his hand reached out to hold the other’s shoulder. The man looked pained.

“Hey?” he said, testing and shook the other a little. The man’s breath quivered a little at his voice and he seemed to rouse but for a moment, before slumping back down without waking up. On further attempts, there was no reaction.

Zhongli changed his position from crouching to kneeling to get a better look at the sleeping man. He wasn’t hurt, was he? Zhongli saw no evidence of injuries on him and, in the first place, could a person like him even get injured? What could make him like this? He was worse than before. There were so many things Zhongli had no answer for. The trembles had stopped and the other seemed to rest easier now. Looking at him, waking him up started to feel like the rudest thing to do. Even in the fog, Zhongli could see the exhaustion in the way the shoulders and head hang down limp and an arm dropped down from its perch on the lap to the ground. Zhongli was realising he didn’t have the heart for it, not now that the other was calmer.

Is this my fault? he asked himself silently and retracted his arm to give the sleeping man some space. Am I doing this to you? His eyebrows shot up when the man shivered again in his sleep and the shoulder he had just held twitched. The fingers moved restlessly, as if weakly trying to grasp something they couldn’t reach.

Biting his lips tightly together, Zhongli made a decision and reached out again to hold the shivering man still. He sat down next to the tree, guiding the restless body to lean against himself. The person in white shuddered slightly at the touch but did not stir. Even so, Zhongli’s presence seemed to calm him down. The restless movements ceased.

Adjusting himself to make the other comfortable as his body rested against him, Zhongli shut his eyes tightly, frowning. For just a short while, his body back in his bedroom could take this right? As he listened to the steadying breathing of the man relaxing against his shoulder, he steeled himself to face the possible repercussions.

For just a little while, he decided as he reached out his hand to prevent the limp body from slipping off his shoulder. If this was something he could do, he would. It’ll be fine.

Fanart for this chapter ♡

Chapter Text

Zhongli couldn’t tell how much time exactly passed until the man sleeping against him stirred. It was hard to tell time within the fog but it felt like a few hours to him, the least. Until then, the man rested next to him so still, that Zhongli found himself worrying was he even alive at times. As the man’s body tensed against him and he heard a little grunt come from his throat, it was such a stark contrast to the quiet stillness around that he almost startled himself.

As he turned his head to look at the man, he first noticed the fingers curling into fists, then the tensed jaw that grimaced.

“…Why?” the man whispered through his teeth, voice hoarse from sleep.

Zhongli took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “The same reason as before. I attempted to sleep and found myself here.”

“No,” the man replied and gripped Zhongli’s shoulder tightly as he pushed himself upright and away. “Why did you not wake me?”

“I…” Zhongli could hear the dissatisfaction in the other’s voice. He had been prepared for that, but it was still unpleasant to hear. “You had told me you needed rest. I did not wish to disturb you.”

“You fool,” the man spat and the hand gripping on Zhongli’s shoulder moved to grab his collar. “I told you it was dangerous. If your consciousness is here and I sleep, your body is defenceless.” The man pulled him closer until Zhongli was staring right into the two amber eyes that shone even through the mist. Those eyes were— “There is someone in your room,” the man grunted out.

Zhongli’s train of thought stopped like it had hit a wall and sunk into icy water.

“I had…” the man continued, slightly out of breath. “…set up a ward to warn me even through sleep if someone got close to you. That is what roused me. But when I did, you…” The white fog around them tensed and Zhongli could feel himself being pulled away as the other man disappeared from sight. “I cannot lose you too. I have to…”

Zhongli readied himself to be transported back and couldn’t help the chills that ran down his spine at the thought that someone had snuck into his apartment. The mist tensed and hid everything from sight, before it abruptly dissipated back to what it had been, without sending Zhongli away.

The man’s hand was still on his collar, clutching tightly as its owner grimaced, seething through his teeth and his head and shoulders slumped down. “…Dammit…”

“What’s the matter?” Zhongli asked, trying to understand what was going on.

The man’s forehead hit against his shoulder. “It’s…one of the adepti,” he grunted, his voice strained as if he had to force himself to talk. The hand loosened its grip of Zhongli. “If I send you back now… they’ll know. I can’t hide it… But he probably has already realised your mind is absent.” He bit his teeth, breath hissing out past them. “Dammit!”

Zhongli was reeling in the fact that he had made a mistake allowing the man to sleep. “I…”

The man in white straightened and stared at his face with squinted eyes. “Why did you not wake me when you came?” he asked again and Zhongli knew better than to try and make up excuses.

“I tried to,” he replied, finding it hard to look back into the other’s shining eyes. “But you would not rouse. Your sleep was restless and my presence seemed to make you relax instead.” He sighed. “I should have done as you instructed me to. But you appeared tired, so I made the decision to disobey… to allow you to rest instead. I’m sorry.”

The white-clad man grinded his teeth, dropping his head back down, breaking his eye contact. The hand that was not clutching Zhongli’s clothes took support from the tree trunk. Zhongli could see indents in the tree bark forming under the fingers.

“Pathetic…” the man whispered between his teeth, sounding the angriest Zhongli had so far heard him be. He let go of Zhongli’s shirt and pushed himself up from the ground with the help of the tree. “Disgraceful. I cannot… I will not…”

Zhongli also made a move to stand up after him, half on instinct because it was clear to see the man had to force himself to be able to stand. He hesitated, which caused him to be too late to react when the other fell. It took but one step before the man’s knees buckled and he collapsed among the tall grass, without being able to make any attempt to catch himself.

“My lord!” Zhongli gasped as he startled forwards, unable to reach far enough to prevent the fall. He pushed himself off his spot by the tree and knelt down next to the man now lying on his side on the ground. Zhongli was genuinely terrified of seeing a person like him in this state.

The man dug his fingers into the dirt in frustration that seeped into his voice, but he seemed unable to stand up again. “I refuse… to be a burden to you.” His struggles were met with failure. “I am not… some kind of… parasite,” his voice faltered as his strength kept failing him. “You shouldn’t… see me like this…”

“Please, do not exert yourself like this,” Zhongli replied and reached out to touch the other’s hand and shoulder, in hopes of making the man stop wasting his strength in trying to get up. “Is there any way I can help you?”

Even through the haze of the mist, the man’s war with himself was apparent. But he did not resist as Zhongli lifted his head off the ground, supporting it as he turned the man to lie on his back. They were silent for a while. Zhongli didn’t know what to say or do and the other was busy coming to terms with their situation: both his own condition and the fact that they were a hair breadth away from being found out by the adepti outside this illusory world.

Finally, the man took a long breath and spoke again, regaining some of his cool. “Your presence… made me calm down because our souls are bonded with one another. We can… to an extent, tell what the other is feeling. Because I was unconscious, it resonated as a physical response. Even when you didn’t know what you were doing. Your wish for me to rest managed to reassure me that it was alright to relax,” he explained, his voice regaining so steadiness as he no longer struggled against his exhaustion as much. “Call it… a natural reaction. Like telling yourself to calm down and taking a deep breath. You just… did it for me.”

Zhongli nodded a little, to announce he was listening, and after a moment of silence, opened his mouth to ask aloud the question that was bothering him the most. “My lord… You said my sleeplessness was because of your presence. Is the opposite true? Am… I to blame for this? Am I taking power from you?”

The man shook his head. “You are, but the amount you take is miniscule. It would not cause this. My exhaustion stems from elsewhere. It is… of my own doing.”

“But if you’re already in a need of rest, surely even a little amount affects your recovery,” Zhongli noted and clenched his hand into a fist. “Can I… give back what I have taken? Or at the very least, is there a way to stop taking more from you?”

The man growled. “Not unless we willingly separate from each other. Which I am not willing to do. Were I in better condition and not trying to hide myself still, I could help you handle the sudden change in your body.” He closed his eyes, again discomforted by his own state. “…This is not how this is supposed to go. But… You need not worry for me. As long as I am with you, I cannot die. I need but time. It is your safety we need to worry about.”

Zhongli let his gaze drop and steeled himself. “My lord.” The mixture of wanting and not wanting to know the answer was volatile. “Can you… tell me why you’re here?”

The man huffed a little, like what he was asking was a stupid question. “You keep referring to me as a ‘lord’ yet you ask? You realise my identity, yet would question my presence? It is not like options are many, and I know you’re not dumb.”

Zhongli sighed slowly and his shoulder slumped down as he stared down at his hands that he held together for support. He had known the answer deep down for a while now: it had come to him naturally upon meeting the other more properly last time. But why? He could not understand. He just couldn’t understand…

“I don’t…” Zhongli managed to say after a while. The man’s voice sounding so similar made so much sense. The appearance being so familiar made so much sense. He saw the same eyes that looked at him now whenever he looked into a mirror. Why wouldn’t a person without a form borrow what he could to materialize like this? All Zhongli needed to do was accept it. To face it. “I don’t understand.”

“You disagree with my choice.”

No. That was what Zhongli wanted to say. It was a factual statement, but it went against everything he had learnt throughout his life. One does not disagree with the choice: such were the terms the people of Liyue had agreed to. There was only ever one person who had the right to choose or take down the emperor. But Zhongli could not bring himself to dispute the other’s statement, despite knowing this. He had hoped the next choice made under the Contract to be an agreeable one, but it couldn’t have been less so.

Zhongli decided to be honest. “I don’t see myself as someone who should lead others.” To stand above others. To command illuminated beasts. To bear responsibility for the governance of a nation. How could someone like him ever…

“Well I do.”

Zhongli raised his head to face the God of Contracts.

“I judged you to be what Liyue needs,” the god said with a voice that accepted no counterarguments. “I will not be proven wrong before you even entertain the possibility. Or do you take me for a person who decides important things on a whim?”

Zhongli closed his eyes and couldn’t stop his head from turning a little away. “No… my lord.” There was only one choice and it was not his to make. It wasn’t his place to dispute the eldest archon. Perhaps he should have felt flattered by such confidence in him but it didn’t help.

The God of Contracts frowned at him, displeased. “We can discuss this in more detail another time. For now, help me back to the tree,” he said and grunted as he attempted to push himself up, the strain immediately returning to his face and voice. “We must deal… with the issue we’re facing.”

Zhongli hurried to offer the god an arm, hooking it behind the shoulders to help him sit up. He helped the struggling divine being back to sit against the tree and settled to half crouch half kneel beside him.

Forcibly, he shook the coil of doubt off the forefront of his mind. “So has an adeptus found out about me?”

“Not necessarily,” the god replied and smiled a little. “But they suspect you. It was only a matter of time after I slipped up during the Rite. I expected nothing less from them.” He sighed and rested his head back. “But… it is sooner than I would have liked. And if I use my power to send you back now, they will know for certain.” Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked at Zhongli, distress in his features. “How long have you been here?”

Zhongli shook his head. “I couldn’t say. I cannot tell the passage of time here.”

The god’s eyes narrowed. “Then how much of your time here have you spent outside the veil?”

That was easier to answer to. “If by veil you mean this fog, only a short while at the start. When I wondered if I could find you instead of calling out to you, it appeared on its own. I followed the flow of the mist to you.” He was unsure why the god looked so shocked to hear this. “Is it dangerous for me to be here for prolonged periods of time? On previous occasions, I felt discomfort even before returning to my body. But so far, I’ve felt alright this time around. Does that only happen outside of the mist then or have I done an even more terrible mistake?”

There was an amused huff and certain pleased edge to the tone to be heard when his companion replied. “This ‘mist’, as you put it, is my attempt to shield you from coming into a too direct of a contact with me before I am able to accommodate you. You should be fine within it.”

Good. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a complete heaving mess by the time he returned. Speaking of returning, Zhongli came back to the topic they kept getting distracted from. “If the adeptus in my room can sense you sending me back, is there a way I could return myself?” Again, he wasn’t sure why the God of Contracts would look so speechless when he talked. Was he suggesting something reprehensible? He attempted to explain. “If I have already taken power from you, I could try to use it if you instruct me. Would that mask your presence?”

The god was quiet for a moment, before he confused Zhongli by starting to laugh. “Yes. Perhaps you would be able to. Whether it will help to mask my involvement, remains to be seen. It is my power still, after all.”

Zhongli straightened his back. “What should I do, my lord?”

“Ugh… Quit it with the lord business,” the God of Contracts scowled before his expression turned more amused. “Why don’t you give it a try on your own. Your mind might not know, but your body has experienced it twice and should remember.”

Zhongli frowned, not sure how he should take the mischievous glint in the eyes that were his except for the unnatural shine. He closed his eyes anyway and tried to concentrate: imagine his body on his bed as he had left it. The memories of the two times he had been surrounded by the mist, engulfed in darkness and then emerged as if diving out of the sea, filled his mind. The feeling of the pull on his being as it travelled unfamiliar spaces. The strain his body felt afterwards. The unclarity of his mind after the trip was done.

Morax watched with deep fascination as his chosen vessel’s form dissolved into the veil he had created and disappeared from the hidden space within. He leant back his head and let out another chuckle as the ‘mist’ dispersed with the departure of the one who had willed it to appear.

“Positively thrilling…”

.

The first thing Zhongli felt upon regaining clarity of his body that it hurt. He had made it back, but whatever finesse the God of Contracts possessed while doing the feat, he himself did not.

It was a different kind of pain from the usual aching chest and gasping breath. It felt like he had a pulled a muscle on the back of his neck, sending a blinding headache into his skull and an uncomfortable tingle everywhere else. If he could have screamed, he would have, but all he could do was gasp and moan slightly until the feeling would pass.

He was starting to understand more clearly what the God of Contracts had meant by “defenceless”. Indeed, in this state, that is what he was.

A different kind of sensation coexisted with the pain however: it was the knowledge that he was not alone. Again, none of his senses picked up a presence of another, but he could tell there was someone in the room with him.

Still struggling against the set of hot nails that had embedded itself to the back of his skull and scratched along the bone, he opened his eyes and blinked to sharpen his vision. He was lying on his side among a mess of sheets. Before he could even entertain the notion of getting up and seeing which of the adepti had joined him during the night, something cold was pressed under his chin. His face was lifted up along the slightly damp fabric under him, until his eyes met with the golden gaze of what appeared to be a young man. Zhongli knew better. Even in the dim light of the room, there was no question about the identity of his visitor. The gasp that escaped from his lips upon seeing one of the most elusive adepti before him was only half because of the constrictions in the back of his neck.

“The Conqueror… of Demons…” he managed to mumbled barely audibly. Before him really was one of the five guardian yakshas and Rex Lapis’ personal generals. An adeptus you’d have to be lucky to see from afar a few times your entire life. The vigilant guardian of Liyue against the surges of tainted forces. In his home. Holding the blunt end if his spear pressed against his throat and the underside of his chin.

Zhongli was guessing making a good first impression was impossible at this point…

The yaksha was regarding him with a cold stare. Not malicious, but calculating and alert. Still, Zhongli guessed that it would not take a second for the spear to be whirled around to change the blunt end of the weapon against his throat with a sharp one, if he gave the adeptus a reason.

Now… What to do?

He was still barely able to move, but his vision had become stable. The hot pain on his head was keeping him from trying to get up still. The adeptus had not spoken up yet, silently keeping a watchful eye on him as Zhongli collected himself. He could feel now that the shirt he had left on when going to bed was damp with sweat: proof that even spending time within the mist had most likely taken some toll on his body. Hopefully recovering did not take him too long.

He cleared his throat with a small cough, testing how his voice cooperated, and the spear end against his skin pressed slightly firmer, telling him that the Vigilant Yaksha was being true to his title. “I…” he breathed out, still a little unsteady with his speech, he realised, and made an effort to sound at least somewhat more capable of handling himself. “…apologise, for being in your presence in such an unsightly state, honoured adeptus. How may I be of help to you?”

The golden eyes squinted a little. “You know who I am.”

The voice of the adeptus was a little rough, but clear. What he said wasn’t a question but a statement. However, Zhongli knew he’d best give a convincing reason here. The Conqueror of Demons wasn’t an adeptus many could name. And waking up to a stranger holding a spear on your throat, blunt end or not, was not something people usually reacted to as calmly as he was.

“My job is to be knowledgeable about the adepti and your traditions,” he offered as an explanation. It was true, though not the reason he hadn’t been surprised to see the yaksha. His mind was running a mile a minute on how to navigate this situation without exposing the God of Contracts. It appeared that so far, the presence of the god was still a secret. He was praying his skills at lying weren’t as bad as Hu Tao had claimed.

“Are you not concerned why I would appear before you?” the adeptus asked and tilted Zhongli’s chin up a little with his spear. As the weapon turned, Zhongli could see it gleam green in the moonlight.

The primordial jade-wing spear… Even in this situation he found himself excited being able to see such a legendary weapon up close. That also meant however, that the portion of the spear pressed against his throat, though not as immediately deadly as the other end, wasn’t exactly blunt either. As far as he remembered the weapon’s design from pictures. Perhaps this was a little too up close and personal, considering. He should trek this conversation lightly, though he doubted one of the guardian adepti would easily raise a hand against a human.

“I am… not in a state I can defend myself in, honoured adeptus,” Zhongli responded and breathed out an unamused laugh. “I was relieved to see that one such as yourself would offer me a visit at this hour, rather than a common thief. I apologise if my hazed mind puts you ill at ease.”

He could see a grease form between the yaksha’s eyebrows and the expression on the stern face shifted slightly into something warmer.

Zhongli decided to add, realising he hadn’t given a clear answer to the question. “As for your intentions, I have already inquired about them. But I realise I am in no position to pry into your affairs, honoured one, should you choose not to tell me.”

The adeptus huffed and retracted his spear, taking a step back. Zhongli decided to lie still and not get up even so and waited for the yaksha to speak up.

“I want to talk with you,” the Conqueror of Demons said after a moment.

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. He shifted a little, trying to get a better look at the adeptus standing now in the shadows. “If I can offer my assistance—”

“Before that,” the yaksha stopped him and shifted on his feet, as if unsure what to do. “Do you… need a doctor?”

“…Ah.” Zhongli was taken aback for a second at the question. “Thank you, but I’ll be okay in a moment. No need to trouble yourself.”

The adeptus sighed a little and Zhongli saw him move slightly but it wasn’t possible for him to read his intentions or expressions among the shadows.

“Come to the road leading to Lingju Pass,” the yaksha instructed next. “Alone. You only need to keep walking; I will find you. We will talk there.” His tone turned a shade darker at his following words. “And do not try anything unnecessary. I will be watching you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Vigilant Yaksha,” Zhongli assured, meaning it. He didn’t want to get the bad side of any adeptus. Anymore than he already was at least… “I shall heed your invitation, but… only as soon as I am able, I’m afraid.” That too was the truth. He couldn’t get up yet.

The yaksha huffed sharply as he disappeared, leaving behind a trail of green and black energy that soon disappeared into the air.

Now that he was at least supposedly alone, Zhongli groaned a heavy sigh and allowed himself to shiver against the mattress, something he had been holding back to appear at least partially alright. His body was rigid with the lingering pain from his rough wake up call. He had also noticed as they had been talking that his legs refused to move. Let alone make it to Lingju Pass, getting up from bed was proving to be a challenge at the moment.

Speaking of his promise to the adeptus, what was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t go against the yaksha’s orders, so going was technically his only option, but… Zhongli buried his head against his pillow and ran his hand through his hair, realising now how it was sticking to his forehead and temples because of sweat. How was he not going to get in the way of the God of Contracts at this rate? What exactly did the adepti want with him? Were they just suspicious of him being the next Rex Lapis or was there something else? Oh archons, he had no idea… Let’s not even start thinking back to the Rex Lapis part right now…

Before anything, he needed to get up, so he grunted as he forced himself to sit. He dragged himself along the mattress to lean against the headrest and massaged his tingling legs, in hopes they would cooperate. As he coaxed his body back alive, he thought back to the two discussions he had just engaged in, rubbing his fingers over his eyes and struggling to keep up with everything that was happening around him recently.

What has my life become?

Outside, Xiao was standing guard at the top of a nearby building and frowning towards the apartment of the consultant he had visited. He was conflicted.

Ganyu had been adamant that this Mr. Zhongli was a gentleman and couldn’t possibly have ill intentions. After following him around and meeting him, Xiao was almost ready to agree. That is, if not for the interaction with the Fatui and more importantly, an obvious case of soul diving while sleeping. Quite sloppily, judging by how much of a toll it took on the man’s body. The consultant was essentially an amateur trying expert techniques without practice. But still, the fact that he managed it at all was no small feat.

Also, there was another thing: how was he supposed to keep thinking of this man as a potential threat and suspect like they had agreed, when the man couldn’t even sit up to speak? Coming to see him and realising his mind was not present in his body, Xiao had immediately been suspicious and given the man a warning to not try anything funny as soon as he woke up. That had been his intention at least and for a moment he had thought the consultant was merely acting. But it was soon apparent he was genuinely in badly concealed agony over the experience. Xiao found it hard to believe that if he was willingly doing the diving, it would have such repercussions on him.

That said, even if they scratched the Fatui meeting off as a friendly outing, soul diving was not something a normal citizen of Liyue would, should or could engage in.

What was the deal with this man?

Xiao found himself scowling. If their lord was with this man, why would he not reach out to them? Surely after the incident, he’d wish for the next successor to be protected. That is what they had vowed to do: keep the emperor safe. Was he mad at them for failing in their duty? No, but what purpose would concealing the next emperor serve even so? It made no sense to him. And if he was here, why could they not sense his presence, even when the consultant was using power that he clearly shouldn’t possess? Could it truly be that this man was taking what wasn’t his? For what end? What was the human hoping to accomplish?

For now, he’d go along with the plan and get this man away from Liyue Harbor to interrogate him in a safe place in the case he turned out to be an adversary. And on the first sign of unnecessary business, the other adepti were close by in the case the man needed to be apprehended. Though from what Xiao had seen so far, he alone was probably enough. The man was hardly a soldier or much of a fighter. Still, accomplices were a possibility and this man was clearly hiding something.

He was determined to expose the man’s true identity, one way or another.

.

It was a little before sunrise that Zhongli found himself walking across Liyue Harbor, towards the mountain pass that would lead him towards Lingju Pass. The morning was windy and unpleasant. His body was working in his favour again, having shaken off the effects of his trip to see a god.

No, he still wasn’t in terms with that, but at least he wasn’t trying to deny it any longer. Unless this all was some kind of a twisted joke to ruin his sanity. If it was, it was working.

He walked up the stairs that lead him away from the Harbor and couldn’t help but glance around as the city got more distant. What would the Conqueror of Demons want from him? He could sense the adeptus’s presence close by, but saw no indication where exactly he was hiding. How far would he need to walk before he appeared? His nerves were tense, not looking forward to this encounter. Could he do this? Could the God of Contracts stay hidden or would he ruin everything?

If he did manage to ruin everything, would the god still consider him a worthy candidate? Zhongli had never imagined himself being chosen as an emperor, nor did he want to in particular, but the thought of being rejected by a god was equally unpleasant…

The cold morning wind pushed him on as Mt. Tianheng was left behind him. At times, he saw glimpses of hilichurls or geovishap hatchlings and either strayed a little from the road to hide from their gazes and slip past, or hurried along before they took notice someone was close. For the most part his walk was uneventful and could have been pleasant even, but even as the sun rose, he could not come to enjoy it.

“Stop,” a slightly gruff voice ordered as he walked past some ancient ruins.

Zhongli halted as he recognized the voice and turned around towards the sound, seeing the Vigilant Yaksha standing on top of an old, partly collapsed wall. He bowed, respectfully, in greeting as the adeptus jumped down to the road below and walked a little closer.

“You came,” the yaksha replied, matter-of-factly, not responding to his greeting, but Zhongli did not mind particularly. The adepti worked in their own ways and he wasn’t certain he was in their good graces at the moment. The yaksha stopped a few metres away from him.

“Of course,” Zhongli said and straightened. “You said you had something you wished to discuss?”

The adeptus scowled at him. “Doesn’t it concern you in the least that someone would call you out to the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night? To just ‘talk’? After sneaking into your house?”

Zhongli had the decency to laugh at his own conduct. “I would be lying if I said it did not. But as a citizen of Liyue, it would be unbecoming of me to not aid the adepti were they to ask it of me. Not after everything you have done for us throughout the centuries. I promise I would not do this for just anyone, without precautions at least.”

The adeptus’s gaze was sharp, trying to see through his every word. “Let’s get straight to the point,” he said and continued as soon as Zhongli nodded. “Who are you?”

Not the easiest first question. Zhongli managed to keep his act together and look confused. “My name is Zhongli. I work as a consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. I would have assumed you knew that however, having sought me out. Why is it that you ask?”

“Because that is not what I mean,” the adeptus clarified and his brow furrowed as he crossed his arms. “No normal ‘consultant’ practices soul diving in his sleep.”

Soul diving? Zhongli tried to think fast. Was that what his trips to the strange scenes were called? “I’m… afraid I don’t quite understand.”

“It means you leave your body to dive deeper into your own or someone else’s consciousness while you sleep,” the yaksha explained. “It is an adepti art that a mortal, such as you, has no way of knowing how to do. If our research is correct, you possibly first experienced it around a week ago when you collapsed during work at the Funeral Parlor.”

Now Zhongli was genuinely surprised. He had not expected the adepti to know or link that to last night, which should have been the first instance of this diving the adepti had witnessed. The God of Contracts had stated he expected his adepti to find him, no matter how he tried to hide, but Zhongli was still taken aback. Still, he had a conversation to keep up and under control. Somehow.

“I… I wasn’t aware that it was an adepti art of sorts,” Zhongli said, deciding to lie as little as possible to help keep his eventual tall tales in check. “It started without a warning and I’m afraid I do not understand the reasons why.”

“So you’re saying you’re not doing it consciously?”

“Exactly. It happens at times when I fall asleep. I end up in weird and stressful places, unable to wake up for a good while. The aftermath of those episodes is quite unpleasant.”

The yaksha regarded him for a while in silence and then unfolded his arms. “How about we get an adeptus healer to look at you.”

Zhongli stiffened. Uh oh… That did not sound like a good option in keeping a low profile. “I… do not wish to intrude. Are the adepti not busy with the current affairs?”

“Call it a favour for agreeing to come and talk with me.”

Not good… It made no sense for him to decline, did it? That would be suspicious. “If you’re quite certain, I will accept the help. Thank you. Was that all you wanted to discuss?”

The adeptus shook his head and Zhongli bit back an instinct to grunt. The yaksha continued to ask him questions. About The Rite of Parting. About his meeting with Childe. About Zhongli himself. More about his soul diving experiences. Even about his thoughts on the previous emperor. Especially the ones about himself confused him. It was like he was being checked if he knew his own background. Why?

It was becoming abundantly clear that Zhongli was not only suspected of something, but also had been followed for a while now and investigated thoroughly based on it. He could but hope he was keeping his answers straight and vague enough to not be suspected more. There was also one thing he was decidedly not questioned about: the incident at the Rite, or as he had deduced, the slip up of the God of Contracts that had led to his presence leaking out for just long enough for Ganyu to take notice. There was no way the Conqueror of Demons wasn’t aware of this incident, judging by everything else he seemed to know. Why was he not bringing it up?

Tense as he was from the questioning, Zhongli didn’t manage to hold back a flinch when a flash of light suddenly materialized the majestic primordial spear into the adeptus’s hand.

“What?”

The yaksha crouched, swinging his weapon to the side. “Excuse me.”

That was all the warning Zhongli got before the yaksha disappeared into a flash of power and reappeared right in front of him. The spear that had winded back was now striking back forth, the gleaming jade edge closing in on his throat with deadly accuracy.

Zhongli felt unnatural watching this happen. He was acutely aware that he was not supposed to see all these movements or even be aware of the danger before it was too late. Yet his body moved to react, stepping out of the way of danger on instinct. The sharp edge grazed his skin, sending a sharp small pain around his neck as an extra warning for danger. Zhongli hurried a few steps away to get some distance between himself and the yaksha.

He did not know what to think anymore. The Conqueror of Demons had attacked him. Why? What had he done? What did they suspect him of? This was bad.

Zhongli raised his hand to touch the wet trickle he felt running down the side of his neck, staring at the dark red drops of blood that his fingertips gathered. His eyes quickly shot back to look at the adeptus after the quick glance at the red on his fingers. He felt his heartbeat hammer in his veins as adrenaline blocked the worst of the shock and fear in the favour of survival. The vision behind his back glimmered to life as his mind reached out to it.

“You dodged it,” the yaksha grumbled quietly and straightened from his attack. Flicking the drop of blood off the spear’s blade to the ground, he turned to glare at Zhongli. His expression was suddenly much colder than before.

Um: Yes? Was he not supposed to? “Conqueror of Demons… why would you…” He couldn’t form a proper sentence.

“You dodged it,” the yaksha repeated and took a step towards him, his eyes gleaming with animosity now. “I am general Alatus. The guardian yaksha in Rex Lapis’ personal guard. Answer me! We have checked your background. How does a funeral consultant with next to no combat experience dodge my strike?”

Zhongli froze. Oh. Yeah, that did feel weird to him too, didn’t it? “Um… Perhaps we might refer it to as beginner’s luck?” he attempted, but knew that that wouldn’t fly here. Hu Tao was right: if he had the time and was calm enough, he could make up a convincing lie. If not: he was hopeless.

The Conqueror of Demons was glaring at him and took another step forward. His shoulders rose as he took a battle stance while trying to remain calm. “I knew there was something off about you. I shall ask again: who are you?” the guardian yaksha snarled at him and prompted a step back from Zhongli in an effort to keep distance. “There are too many questions. Too many mysteries. Tell me: what do you know that you’re not telling me?”

Zhongli stuttered. “I understand your suspicions, but… surely this is too much, honoured one? You… tried to kill me.”

The adeptus scoffed. “Had you not dodged, I would have stopped my strike.” His eyes narrowed and he readied another strike, making sure Zhongli was seeing it to know not to play games with him anymore. “But you dodged it. Now tell me how.”

“Wait,” Zhongli tried to regain a status quo of some kind. “There is no need for violence. I cannot explain how I dodged your strike, but please: I do not wish you or anyone harm.”

The guardian yaksha huffed, so loudly it sounded like a battle cry of sorts and charged. He was determined to see the true colours of the man in front of him, convinced that he was not who he claimed to be.

Zhongli drew a sharp breath as his body reacted on its own again. But this time, it was different. He felt a surge of power unlike before, telling his body how to move. And from deep within he heard a voice without sound, instructing him on what to do.

He felt energy flare in his chest and reach out through his hands all the way to his fingertips that wrapped around the shaft of the spear that was pointed against him. The yaksha grunted in surprised as his strike whiffed past Zhongli’s head when it dodged to the side with a speed neither expected. Zhongli clutched his fingers in a tight grip around the spear and pulled on it, encouraging the existing momentum and yanking the adeptus closer with his weapon.

The yaksha was about to retaliate when he froze and all of his resistance stopped. Every shred of animosity evaporated from his features as an expression of utter shock set on his face.

“Xiao.”

With their faces close, Zhongli could see a reflection of a glimmer in the yaksha’s eyes, recognizing it as the same shine he had seen in the eyes of the God of Contracts. And from the widened, trembling gaze that was locked into his eyes as he spoke, Zhongli knew those were the very eyes the yaksha now also saw.

“Stand down.”

Chapter Text

“Xiao,” Zhongli said with a low voice, following the hints offered to him by the God of Contracts. It felt so wrong to face an adeptus like this. “Stand down.”

The surge of power dissipated as soon as it had surged. They stayed interlocked by their grips on the jade spear, before Zhongli released a breath from his lungs and his form visibly deflated. The reflection of his eyes shining disappeared from the yaksha’s pupils. As soon as that happened, the adeptus jolted backwards, leaving the spear in Zhongli’s hand (which he almost dropped because he did not expect that).

This polearm is heavy… Zhongli noted as he took the weapon in both hands. He looked up to the adeptus who was standing further away, staring at him: a storm of emotions showing little signs on his face that he appeared to try and keep in check but was failing. The mixture was bit too complex for Zhongli to read into effectively, but he could make some educated guesses. Xiao… was the name of this adeptus?

It seemed like a certain third party in this conversation had heard enough and decided to interfere. Will this be alright? Zhongli frowned a little as neither of them spoke. The adepti will know with this for sure. Are you alright with this, God of Contracts? This was his fault. He had failed to hide it like he was supposed to.

A little sigh escaped from Zhongli into the tense silence between them and that shook the adeptus out of his shock. The Conqueror of Demons looked like he was splashed awake with a cold bucket of water and he scrambled into attention before his head dropped down, finally tearing his eyes off Zhongli’s. When his back curved down and knees bent, Zhongli startled forward.

“Don’t!” he asked, having talked on instinct but it sounded more like an order than he had intended. The yaksha froze mid movement like he had turned into a statue, which made Zhongli feel guilty for speaking so harshly.

He took some steps forward, but as he got closer Xiao flinched away, keeping his head hanging low. Zhongli stopped, feeling uncomfortable with how the other acted. He wasn’t supposed to get used to something like this, was he? At least the adeptus had stopped trying to kneel.

Taking a breath in, Zhongli raised the jade spear on top of his palms in front of him and offered it towards the yaksha. “I feel it would be better for you to have this,” he said, trying to speak more softly, not over how Xiao had reacted to him before.

The yaksha gasped a little, almost too quietly to hear and straightened just enough to see the weapon resting atop Zhongli’s palms. He hesitated. Zhongli saw his hands twitch a few times, until Xiao finally took a step forward and reached to clasp the polearm. The weight of the carved jade was lifted off almost carefully and Xiao immediately retreated, not once raising his head.

Zhongli had no words to describe how bothered he felt. Can I still fix this? He cleared his throat. “I understand your wish to test me, but I cannot help but feel such methods are not befit an adeptus of your calibre. I hope we can reach an understanding without a repeat of this incident in the future?” He tried to keep his tone conversational and free of tension to ease the situation. He decided to at least try saving what he could of his anonymity and continued. “But: I thank you for diverting your strike just now. I hope that means your doubts about me have somewhat dispersed?”

The yaksha tensed at his words and glanced up now, looking confused.

“Was there still something else you wanted to ask me, honoured adeptus?” Zhongli asked, sensing a confused feeling surging from within that wasn’t his own. “I feel we shouldn’t prolong our meeting for too long. I’d hate to keep you from your duties. Are the adepti not still in the middle of tracking down the next Rex Lapis?”

Xiao stood up straight now and the look he gave Zhongli was still that of confusion. But behind it were furiously working gears making rounds to reach new conclusions.

Zhongli raised his hand on his chest and bowed to the adeptus. “I hope your search shall soon be prosperous.”

Xiao stared at the man in front of him, listening to the sounds of pieces of information clicking into place in his head. The consultant… no, Rex Lapis spoke still, expecting input from him. He was pretty sure he grunted something in response because the man continued the discussion afterwards.

Everything had changed so fast the situation was leaving him behind. But it was clear now: Ganyu had not been mistaken that day. The presence of his god, however brief it had been, had crashed over him like strong gust of wind through a treetop, leaving him feeling frazzled but natural. This man was Rex Lapis. He had received a message from his god, in a form he had not expected and the contents of which were turning everything upside down. But at the same time, the feeling of having something concrete to work with in this situation was incredibly relieving.

Rex Lapis gave him another light bow, saying his goodbyes and wishing him well. Xiao was too distracted by the red stain on the side of his lord’s neck, trickling down from a cut and staining the beige collar underneath, to respond.

Rex Lapis was leaving. He was walking away, back the way he had come from, towards the Harbor.

“Wait,” Xiao said hastily with a voice more hoarse than usual before he knew what he was doing. Why did I stop him?

Rex Lapis stopped and looked back with a little “hmm?” giving him the attention he now dreaded.

“The…” Say something. “The roads. There will be monsters… when the sun climbs higher.” What am I saying? Most of the monsters around here are nocturnal. “Take care… going back.” What am I talking about?

Rex Lapis would be annoyed at such a remark. He had stopped him for an utterly nonsensical thing. Had he not done enough to get in the way of his god’s plans?

He looked up, ready to apologise for his behaviour. Rex Lapis regarded him with a surprised look in his eyes before it changed into a smile. “Thank you. I will be careful.”

Why is he smiling?

He turned to leave again. Xiao did not stop him anymore. Forcing himself, he tried to shake his confusion off: he had to talk to the others.

Everything had changed.

His eyes wandered down to the slight red streak at the edge of his weapon. It was almost invisible, barely leaving a stain to the blade’s edge, but it might have as well painted the entire weapon red. Xiao realised well enough what he had done. Rex Lapis had chosen not to reprimand him to keep up appearances, but he wasn’t so foolish as to think there would be no consequences. Until then, he would do his utmost to aid his lord in whatever his plan was. His trust was absolute, or so he had always told himself. Yet he had raised his hand against his god and the one he had sworn to protect.

His memories flashed back to the expression of shock when a weapon had grazed the skin. To the little tremble of the hand that had been raised in between them, trying to persuade Xiao to reconsider. To the sound of the disappointment as the truth had become apparent. It landed lastly on the smile that contrasted everything else and served to confuse Xiao even further.

He shook it off. Whatever the punishment for the adepti’s short-sighted and rash decisions and his own actions would be, he would accept them when the situation had settled. That was to come. The now was more important.

“Alatus?” Indarias appeared by his side. He must have been standing there for a while for her to show up. “Are you alright? I know you said only to come if you called, but the consultant left so he shouldn’t sense me anymore. What happened?” She was shaking a little, both hands and her voice. It was for hopeful excitement, for she had seen everything from afar. “Was he… actually—”

“No,” Xiao stopped her before she could continue. “It was our mistake. The consultant is unrelated.”

The fire yaksha blinked at him. There was no way her brother was telling her the truth but she didn’t understand why. “But—”

“Can you help me call everyone to the palace?” Xiao asked, dismissing his polearm, reminding himself to not clean it and use something else for a while to preserve evidence. “Now that we no longer have a lead, I think we should change our approach.”

.

Zhongli had only one thing in his mind as he walked back to the harbour, reaching it when it was already well busy with a new day. He walked past all the busy vendors, shuffling businesspeople and patrolling millelith. If someone greeted him, he did not hear. One of the millelith guards tried to stop him as he walked past him, worried about his wellbeing. It only struck Zhongli later that he had a small gash and blood on his neck: it was a rather natural reaction for someone in charge of safety to worry about that.

But by the time he had connected the dots for that, he had already reached his home. Unlocking his front door, Zhongli slipped inside and marched into his living room, pulling curtains over the window. Hands clutching onto the thin fabric, he finally stopped and it felt like he took a first proper breath ever since he had left the yaksha behind. He wasn’t sure how but he needed to talk with the God of Contracts. He needed to know what the god wanted him to do. He needed to know if he had made mistakes and how to correct them if so.

Zhongli sat down into the chair where he usually read and closed his eyes. What should he do? Surely willing himself to the space where he usually met the god wasn’t something he could just… do? Was it? Honestly, Zhongli would be satisfied if he even got some semblance of what the god was thinking, the same way he at times seemed to feel emotions surge that were not his own. He also had some of Baizhu’s medicine still. Perhaps that would knock him out enough again to warrant a trip to visit a god. Hopefully the deity wasn’t as tired as he had been a while ago, because Zhongli needed his input right now, badly enough to try and imagine the feeling of this “soul diving” as Xiao had called it.

Although he realised now that he had very little idea how to start this… “dive”: he had only ever experienced the ending of it. A frown formed between his closed eyes as Zhongli sighed. “I just always… end up doing it.”

“’End up doing it’ is pretty much how it works, really.”

Zhongli jolted up from is thoughts and only now realised that he was standing in a room he did not recognize. It was an old traditional style room with very limited furniture. One wall was entirely constructed of a sliding door that opened to a little porch. The inside was lit warmly, but had no visibly lights, while the outside of the room was dark like on a cloudy night.

The God of Contracts was sitting on a cushion next to low table by the sliding doors, gazing into the night in what seemed to be a stone garden. His white cloak spread around the floor around him and a hood covered his head as usual. The darkened arms with shining amber lines and glowing hands were for once not wrangling Zhongli’s collar inside a fist as one of the first things to happen and instead rested on the god’s lap and knee, contrasted against both the night outside and the dark fabric of the loose pants. Zhongli was now for the first time noting the little gap at a the bottom of the hood where a tail of brown hair was flowing out. He wondered if that was an added feature because of his own hair or had the God of Contracts in the past preferred long hair himself in human form.

The god did not look at him as he spoke. “That is at least true in your case, as I can help you with it. It is significantly easier with two people.”

Zhongli was busy catching up with the fact that he was no longer in his room.

“You seem perplexed. Did you not wish to come and talk with me?”

“I did not expect I would be able to just like that.”

The god hummed. “Think of it this way: you made it all the way to a ‘door’. I only opened it from the inside as you didn’t seem to find the right key. But be proud of yourself for making it to the door in the first place. Being able to do so without having instructions is no small feat.”

Zhongli took a step forward, approaching the deity cautiously. “Are you feeling better, my lord?”

The god sighed and leant his shoulder on the sliding door. “Marginally.” He tapped his finger on the table beside him while pointing towards the seating cushion on the other side of it. “Join me, won’t you.” There was no question in his voice, only expectation.

Zhongli moved over to sit on the other side of the low table that now separated them. He noticed that the usual fog that apparently shielded him was more akin to smoke trails from incense or pipes in this place.

“Did I not tell you to drop the ‘lord’?” the god beside him mused, sounding mildly annoyed. “We have a long time to come to be with one another. It will grow tiring fast if we’re to keep up with such frivolities.”

Zhongli thought for a second and then turned to look at his companion. “Should I refer to you as Rex Lapis then?”

The god beside him laughed. "Let's get one misunderstanding out of the way."

He unintentionally stiffened as the god's glowing eyes turned to look at him directly for the first time this trip. His own eyes were shimmering at him through a trail of smoke that danced in between.

"I... am Morax. Meanwhile you..." The eyes gleamed with something between mischievous and proud. "...are Zhongli. Only together are we 'Rex Lapis'."

“Morax…” Zhongli repeated the name under his breath. He had heard it, of course, the ancient name of their god. But it had long since become impolite to refer to their deity as such, ever since the arrangement to give up the god’s material body and fuse with humans instead. Ever since “Rex Lapis” had been born. Calling the deity Morax now was disrespectful for the emperor, who acted as the god’s proxy and was undermining the Contract the people had agreed to.

While he was thinking, he realised that the god’s gaze was yet to leave him. Morax was appraising him with a subtle smile on his lips in silence, as if waiting for something to happen. Zhongli cleared his throat. “Was there… something on your mind, my… um… Morax?”

Morax huffed, amused. “I thinned the veil to see how well you would be able to handle my presence in its absence.” He turned to look into the seemingly endless stone garden outside the warmly lit room. “I am quite pleased. You seem to be handling it well.”

Zhongli looked at the thin threads of smoke that flowed through the air freely around them. “Does it ease your effort to recover?”

“It does, in fact, if only slightly. The veil is only ever up when you’re here so the change isn’t too drastic. But it does make it easier for me to talk with you.”

Zhongli nodded and they fell quiet for a moment. Morax seemed content to simply lean on the door frame and gaze in to the still yard, as if enjoying a moment of peace after a busy day. No doubt he was still tired. Zhongli was mostly trying to get comfortable in the god’s presence. The stillness and quiet of the room and yard were a bit unsettling, to be honest, and the god beside him also sat still as a statue, unless you looked more closely to see the little rising and falling of his chest with his breathing. Zhongli was glad to see that the deity seemed to be doing a bit better: at least he no longer seemed to be in pain or unable to support himself.

“You surprised me,” Morax suddenly broke the silence, startling Zhongli out of his thoughts. They turned to look at each other again. “You seem much more steadfast about keeping my presence hidden than I anticipated. I was fully prepared to reveal myself to the adepti after your confrontation with Xiao.”

Zhongli exhaled slowly. “It is what you wished. Did I hinder your plans?”

“You did not. Changed them slightly, perhaps, but not for the worse. We only need hope that it is only the adepti that find you before the end. And that they can keep up the charade on their end.”

“Can you tell me about what you’re planning to do?” Zhongli asked and tried to sit more comfortably. “I wish to help you.”

Morax gave a short laugh. “So much of me keeping you out of the game.”

“I can merely keep up the pretence of my normal life if that suits your goals, my lord.”

“…”

“Morax.”

“That would be for the best,” Morax admitted, shifting his legs around and leaning his head back to get into a more comfortable position. “But now that both you and the adepti are aware of my whereabouts, I see no harm in telling you what to look out for while you do.” He closed his eyes and despite looking relaxed, his voice turned cold. “I’m trying to lure out the people who killed your predecessor.”

Zhongli twitched and felt his stomach tighten uncomfortably. So, the culprits behind the assassination of the previous Rex Lapis had not been caught yet. The thought was chilling… Someone had snuck into the imperial palace and managed to assassinate the emperor without being caught. Suddenly Zhongli was more understanding why the God of Contracts was not so eager to announce his next choice to the public. And he was certainly even less eager to come out and say it himself.

“They were not after him,” Morax continued to explain, his voice straining as concealed anger erupted from his chest. “They were after me. I am the one they want. They trapped my vessel into a space that would confine my soul if I tried to escape… and killed him.” He sat up straight and his hand came to rest against the table. He clutched the edge of the wood until his fingers seemed even paler than they were. Zhongli heard the table creak and crack under the pressure. “They underestimated me. I am not a weakling god that can be lured into a trap like a wild boar and killed like game. I escaped their little prison ward. Once I was free and had formed a plan of sorts… I came to you. …And promptly knocked you out cold the instant we connected.”

He sighed between gritted teeth. “Your predecessor… a kind and quiet soul, but he had a much weaker connection to me than you already do. We only ever spoke a few times in his dreams. Back then, I escaped, but what I couldn’t do… What I could not do at that time was protect him as well.” Morax groaned and buried his face in the hand that was supported against his knee. “He could not receive enough power from me to escape with me. Or even defend himself long enough for the adepti to find us. I caused his death. I killed him. I had to leave him to his death to escape. Those bastards… I will have them yet…”

Zhongli listened in silence as the god beside him seethed with anger and regret. He knew now why the body of the emperor could not have been cremated. In all likelihood, the body was still inside a space that was meant to trap a god. If there was even anything left of it…

Morax took a deep breath and continued. “They know I escaped. But as long as the new Rex Lapis does not announce himself, they cannot tell where I am. But I have never willingly left Liyue without my guidance. I want them to not expect it. Whether it is my life directly they seek or something from the ensuing chaos from my death, I want them to feel like they can win. Like they’re one step away from getting rid of me for good. That I am somewhere within their reach, lost and weak. As time passes, they will slip up while trying to locate me, to try and finish what they started. And I will be waiting for them the moment they do.”

His voice dripped venom as he spoke of the murderers, sending a shiver down Zhongli’s spine. Their god was just and wise, so told most teachings about the God of Contracts. But alongside existed the stories that before, there had been a warrior. A warrior who had won his place among the seven archons and the peace of Liyue, through thousands of years of battle against demons and other gods. Zhongli knew those stories well, of course, but right now he felt like he was seeing a glimpse of that warrior god who showed little mercy to those who wronged him or his allies. And it was honestly weird to hear and see this from someone with his own likeness…

As if to contradict that thought, Morax sighed. “I’ve grown soft… It would have been better to leave him. Forget about him until everything was solved…”

Zhongli took a slow breath and studied the slumped figure of a god writhing in hatred for both himself and his adversaries. “What do you speak of?”

“The Rite of Parting,” Morax replied and glanced in his direction. “I… decided to retrieve the soul of your predecessor from the confined space. So that he may be freed with the Rite you put up for him.” Morax ran his hand through the hair under his white hood. “I risked everything to get him back… It takes a lot out of me to act without a vessel on such multi-layered tasks. That place… was like a labyrinth. And I could have been caught by them, then and there. You…” he sighed again. “You’ve witnessed what has become of me after that endeavour. I’m a mess… Barely strong enough still to aid you against my own adepti when they tested you. But…” Morax fell silent for a second and Zhongli saw the tension in his shoulders soften slightly as he next spoke. “…I found him. In time for the Rite. …Thank you. For helping me release his soul peacefully.”

Zhongli remembered the tight coil of painful emotions that had briefly struck him during the Rite and caused Ganyu to be suspicious of him in the first place. In a way, that had led to the adepti finding him as they had. Who knows, maybe their enemies had also noticed the parting of the supposedly trapped soul or even just the absence of it from its prison. Perhaps leaving the soul of the emperor would have been the right thing to do. But the line of right and wrong wasn’t always so clear. And although it led to a setback, they hadn’t lost yet.

“Think nothing of it,” Zhongli said solemnly, reminded that he had yet to go and pay his own respects at the memorial altar. He should go do that. “I am glad I could help.”

They were both silent for a while again. Morax seemed like he needed a moment to just himself and Zhongli did not feel it was his place to start a new conversation in this moment. He had a multitude of questions about everything that had happened and was going to happen, but he was patient enough to think them through himself before bombarding the god for answers.

First of all, just who had such power that entrapping or killing a god was within their options? Not just any god but an archon: the oldest of the Seven. Who would want to do it, and why? What purpose did slaughtering a god serve in this day and age? Did they seek dominion? Or revenge? Morax had personally done very little in the grand scheme of things for over 800 years now. The emperors were free to pursue pretty much what they found significant or felt strongly about, and mostly only received advice from their god if need be. At least, that is what books on history or politics said. Of course, the God of Contracts did the choosing itself and the chosen emperor was involved with appointments of any new members of the Qixing.

But still: for someone to have a grudge against Morax specifically, to the extent of plotting and carrying out a murder of Liyue’s divine ruler to see it through, their reasons either stemmed back hundreds of years or were against gods in general. That is what Zhongli felt at least. Who would attempt to murder a god for disagreeing with a specific emperor? Such a thing would bring utter chaos to Liyue, if not all of Teyvat. Was disruption of peace the goal then? Or was such chaos necessary for even grander of a goal?

Zhongli could not understand people who would harbour such wishes of destructions. Just who were they up against here…

“What is on your mind?”

Morax’s question startled him a little. Zhongli glanced at the archon before his eyes wondered away again, as he tried to think of what to say.

Morax sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little. “You keep jumping when I start a conversation. You do know you need not be so cautious when talking with me, right?”

Zhongli hummed a little huff. “I in fact do not.”

The god chuckled. “I appreciate that you would seek my opinions. The uncomfortable side of the previous instances aside, you should know this is rather unusual for me. I can’t help but indulge myself in the opportunity.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Do the emperors not regularly seek your council?”

Morax nodded. “They do. But as was the case with your predecessor, many could only come to me in dreams or merely try to get a sense of my approval or disapproval through our souls’ connection alone. Even within dreams, the message needs to be shorter and precise to be remembered properly once awake. That someone would materialize their mind to the space within and allow us to talk as freely as this, is a rare and delightful occasion.” He then responded to a question before it could leave Zhongli’s lips. “I’ve already mentioned to you that our connection is stronger than usual. Your level of natural attunement to my presence has been unexpected, but not at all unwanted.”

“Umm…” Zhongli frowned at the table between them. “I’m sorry, but all of this feels far from natural to me.”

Morax laughed. “Your mental denial is an obstacle I will deal with patience if need be. It doesn’t lessen the level of connection: you’re only making things harder for yourself with it.”

“Did you have no other candidates?”

“I did. I scout out suitable individuals well in advance, sometimes even with the help and input from the presiding emperor. But worry not, they had no chance of competing against you.”

“I… wasn’t really worried about that.”

“Hah. You amuse me. I will enjoy the process of gouging that self-doubt out of you.”

Zhongli had never felt himself to be particularly insecure: even when faced with tough situations at work he had managed to remain calm and apply logic and reason to navigate the situation. But the recent events had proved that even he clearly had an upper limit when faced with the unexpected. Unaccustomed as he was to dealing with such a feeling, because of his usual self-discipline, it had hit him quite hard. The physical repercussions were also of no help of course.

Still, the god’s words made him a little uneasy. Morax didn’t quite strike him as a therapist…

“So, are you going to tell me or not? What is going through that head of yours?”

Zhongli took a deep breath. “Morax,” he started, studying the god’s reactions. The god was still but made a small sound, indicating he was listening. “Do you know who they are? The people who wanted to trap you?”

Morax growled a little. “I do not.” His eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the strand of smoke dancing before him. “They have at least ties to the Abyss, for it was within a nest of abyssal rifts that we were trapped in. But there was something else in there as well… Something I cannot identify. I had thought to consult the other archons, just in case but… I haven’t been able to, thanks to my weakened state and time in hiding.”

Zhongli frowned in thought. “Even without the aid of the other gods, must you do this on your own? Now that the adepti know of your whereabouts.”

“I was planning to ask their assistance once our opponents show their hand, if that is what you’re thinking.”

“No, I meant also in preparation for that time. I understood your plan was to wait for your opponent to show their hand?”

“I have some preparations of my own to make, but essentially: yes.”

“Forgive me but… is this not in a way a matter of national security? Both your absence and the absence of Rex Lapis can already be felt in the city. Such tumultuous tides do often bring forth that which would usually lay low in the bottom of the bay, that is true, but letting things fester without control can prove damaging to Liyue. But if you, who knows Liyue better than anyone, does the stirring himself, finding out just the right amount to bring out the dregs without flooding the coast should become more feasible. If you stop thinking of yourself as the solitary hunter… Well, even if I lay low and try to live a normal life to keep you hidden, there are things I can do to benefit you. Surely some manner of bait would make a trap more effective?”

Morax’s eyes twitched. “I’m hoping you’re not suggesting yourself to act as bait.”

“That was not my intention,” Zhongli assured and shook his head. Morax was giving him his attention and listening. “A ‘bait’ need not be a strictly physical thing, no? It only needs to make the trap more enticing to the prey. If I can give instructions in secret to the adepti, not only do your usable resources multiply, so do your eyes and ears. Additionally, various things could become the ‘truth’ for the time being, if it so suits you.”

Morax’s lips twisted into a little smile as his eyes gleamed at him again. “Are you asking me to lie my own people?”

“Isn’t that what you already doing to an extent by hiding? I simply worry needlessly prolonging people’s uneasiness because of lack of information will prove disadvantageous to you. Finding as dangerous people as these, who would directly oppose and attack a god, is of paramount importance.”

“You’re not wrong. For the safety of not only Liyue, but other countries as well. And you think actively deceiving everyone else would force the opposing hand?”

“I do not object to some drastic, less publicly permissible measures when the need is dire,” Zhongli admitted. “As long as collateral damage is avoided. What I am suggesting is creating more openings for your enemies to try and sneak into, to solve the matter more swiftly, before your prolonged absence itself creates more unrest than it needs to. With more gaps in place, you can shut which ever they choose, before they realise that you controlled all of them.”

.

“Rex Lapis has not been found,” Xiao reported to the gathered adepti as soon as everyone was present. “But the funeral consultant wishes our search will soon be successful.”

More than a few of his companions frowned or looked otherwise confused.

“The yaksha would think it necessary to gather us early to report this?” Skybracer asked and his head lowered, eyes investigating the three yaksha responsible for the interrogation of the consultant. Xiao was holding a straight face while reporting their findings, but Indarias kept fiddling with her sleeve, while Menogias seemed to be deep in thought.

Xiao shifted his weight on his feet and nodded. “We called you because we suggest a small shift in our division of labour. We should calm ourselves as well. We know our lord made it out of our enemies’ grasp. He will reveal us his chosen vessel when he wants to.”

Sometime later, after their meeting had concluded and everyone had left, Xiao had made his way into the armoury of the palace. He was fairly certain that most of the adepti had understood their message as the gathering had progressed. He had seen the look of understanding one after the other as they had kept talking in circles and hints about at times clearly fictitious things. It felt odd to have said things in such roundabout ways in the palace, which was arguably one of the safest places in Liyue to talk secrets. But it was Rex Lapis who had cautioned him first. In the middle of wilderness, with no one around to hear them and both of them knowing Xiao knew the truth already, Rex Lapis had not spoken with him freely. If the issue of secrecy was of dire consequence, it was not up to Xiao or the other of his yaksha brethren to decide where it was safe to talk openly.

And the truth is, the palace they had thought to be safe was where their worst failure as guardian adepti had only just happened. Xiao would never allow himself to forget the warning shout from their lord that had been cut like with a knife as the emperor was dragged across the dimensions to his death. Their god had called for them for aid, but they had come too late. Xiao had thought himself to be almost immune to fear at this point of his life, after seeing the horrors of war and having lived in slavery to another god before Morax had extended his hand to him.

But that night he had felt real fear again. The monsters from the Abyss that had defended the opening were cut down, but those few seconds it had taken were long enough for the rift to close entirely. In the matter of seconds, first the voice of their lord had disappeared, leaving but a desperate echo, followed by a complete lack of contact as the special gate had closed before them. What was left after, was nothing: everything was as if nothing had been wrong. The town and most of the palace slumbered peacefully, unaware of the furious, guttural howl Bosacius had let out his lungs after his hands had crashed through thin air against the wall behind the dimensional door that had been.

For the following hours, all of their efforts, knowledge and power had been concentrated on tracking down the other end of that rift. But what they were met with was a web. A web of branching dimensional pathways that shielded the real destination like digging their way through a bird’s nest from below. One branch and straw at a time, trying to find the one that would bring the entire structure down, they had worked for hours in the night, calling for their lord. But there had been nothing.

The presence of their god had disappeared. Rex Lapis was nowhere to be found. The worst adepti failure in the history of Liyue ever since the end of the Archon War.

Xiao had been ready to cut down any enemy, face entire armies on his own if asked. But there had been no one to fight after the rift hounds had been slaughtered. And in the anticipation, when the need to brandish his spear in the defence of his lord was proven impossible, the fear had set in. It was a shiver, a tingle in the back of his mind. The thought that they couldn’t save their lord. That the divine vessel and the God of Contracts were both lost because they had been too slow. It terrified him. His grip on his spear had shaken, when another dead-end rift door brought him to an empty space. He had channelled his fear into tearing apart another and yet another door between dimensions, with the help of his fellow adepti. But as nothing was found, the fear had started whispering louder in his ears. He would not allow it to affect his performance or let anyone else to notice, but the quiet voices would not leave him.

The echoes of those whispers lingered still, even as Xiao now knew a new Rex Lapis had risen. All they knew before this for certain, was that their god had escaped. Alone. A dimensional gate had forcefully been torn open as the sun rose, hitting all of the adepti with a joint wave of raw force from their god’s power, leading them to stumble at the perceived impact. The door had closed almost immediately, leaving them with nothing but the knowledge that Morax had made his way back to them.

But the feeling of relief lasted but a moment. The presence of their god’s soul washing over them, alone, told them all, that Rex Lapis had passed.

Xiao remembered the way Ganyu had crashed down on the floor after the brief relief of their god’s presence had left them. It was in seeing the way her fingers had curled in her hair and how her forehead had pressed against the floor, that the realisation had finally hit Xiao as well.

They had failed.

Xiao raised up the primordial jade-wing spear Morax had once gifted to him, holding it as if it might break if he handled it too roughly. A ridiculous notion when talking of a weapon that had seen thousands of years of battle and yet glistened like new in the light of the lamps, but he did so anyway. One might argue that it was the decision of all of the adepti to test the consultant if he appeared suspicious enough. They were all on the edge, graving for information after the incident. Desperate to find the new Rex Lapis before something could happen again, as well as gain any information about their enemies. In their desperation, they had failed to consider that rather than will or can, their lord did not want to be found.

“Alatus,” Bosacius’s voice called him out of his thoughts, but Xiao made no move to acknowledge the senior yaksha. “So this is where you went.”

Xiao felt a touch of big, strong hand, wrapping around his shoulder. He turned the weapon in his hands a little, gazing at the slight imperfection on its edge, reminding him of what he had done as he had lost his cool and decided to chase the first conclusion his mind had arrived to. He could have stopped the strike even after he realised the consultant was capable of dodging it. If Morax had not decided to let go of the act, he would have attacked the emperor again without remorse. It was as Rex Lapis had stated afterwards: such behaviour was unbecoming of a guardian adeptus. Saying that he did what he did because others had suggested it or because he had not known was no excuse. Especially after what had happened to the previous emperor, for him to have harmed the next…

The hand squeezed his shoulder. “When Rex Lapis returns to us, we will speak with him together.”

Xiao merely nodded a little to thank him. He took the jade spear to the table at the end of the armoury, setting it down on a pedestal. Grabbing a white tassel from the wall as a replacement, he made his way out of the armoury with his brother, to return to the duties decided for him until their god decided to send them another sign.

.

Zhongli sat back in his chair and enjoyed not feeling like a complete wreck. With his trip to the ‘space within’, as Morax had called it, being entirely intentional this time around and with the god able to help him return now that hiding from the adepti was no longer an issue, his body was handling the experience exceptionally well compared to the last few times. He was tired, thirsty and a little sore, like after doing a rough exercise and using muscles he didn’t know he had. But there was no headache, no chest constrictions and no blindness. This he could handle.

Although, according to Morax, the last time had not been entirely his fault. The headache had been Zhongli’s sloppiness that was true, but the paralysis on his legs was apparently due to the medicine he had taken. Although his mind had awoken, Baizhu’s prescription had kept his body asleep for a while before it caught up with him again. Zhongli reminded himself to not take more of the medicine now that Morax had promised to help him sleep again.

From the light that streamed into the room from his kitchen, he could tell it was early evening outside. He had been away from his body for hours. During that time, Zhongli had come to find out why the God of Contracts was said to be wise. After Morax had let go of the notion of doing everything on his own, Zhongli had found himself in what felt like a war strategy meeting with an experienced general. Which he supposed Morax was, so perhaps he shouldn’t feel surprised.

But with that hours long session full of alternate ways to inform and use the adepti in secret, drafts for possible scenarios what could happen or were not allowed to happen, and discussions ranging from human psychology to a crash course lecture about the Abyss for Zhongli, they now had a plan of action. Zhongli had gotten the feeling that this all excited the god greatly. Like he had woken some primal instinct that graved for action after a long while.

He was himself pleased that Morax had turned out to be delightedly easy to work with, compared to what he had expected. The god was eager and open to hear ideas and counterarguments, and although demanding at times, was willing to learn himself when proven to be surprisingly unaware of some hardships and issues for modern humans in general for someone who had supposedly joined his soul with humans for over 800 years to better learn their ways. When explaining to the god what bargaining for prices was, Zhongli had for the first time thought that maybe it was good for the God of Contracts to join with a commoner for once. He caught himself soon enough to not let that thought take root.

It was anyway weird to him that he of all people would teach someone about the basics of everyday use of money: something that he was often told he was bad with himself. But knowing how bargaining works and being good at it himself were decidedly different. Besides, he wasn’t bad with money, nor was he particularly poor, having had a well-paying job for years. And he was confident in his ability to be able to hold up a conversation about both economics and trade. He just had the insistent habit of forgetting his wallet whenever he went out…

As the soreness in his limbs slowly dissipated, Zhongli opened the curtains of the window next to him and gazed out to the streets of Liyue. He felt surprisingly calm.

Work.

That’s right. If he thought of this as ‘work’, it was a lot easier for him to handle. This was a task set to him, like the Rite of Parting had been. There was a plan, a desired conclusion and an employer with expectations. He was used to that. All he needed to do, was what he always did: do his utmost for satisfactory results. The stakes were different and higher than for a usual task he’d receive, but this was not the time to cower in front of a challenge. Nor was he the type to do so.

Zhongli gazed over the heads of people going by and living their lives, unaware of the struggles of their god. Hu Tao had stated that if he put his mind to it, Zhongli could fool the entire city. It was time to see if that was true.

Chapter Text

Zhongli sat on his bed, cross-legged, and concentrated on the warm feeling of power that was pooling above his palm. He could see small, twinkling particles in the air around his hand, joining a tighter concentration of geo energy, swirling in a little nest formed by his fingers. Particles would join the bundle for a moment, then leave it through little golden streams between his fingers, dispersing and floating about again before repeating the process.

It was… fascinating to watch. At the start he had been a little too busy concentrating on keeping the bundle itself together to pay real attention to the continuous dance of the little particles. But now that he had gotten used to the feeling of the nest of geo on his hand, it allowed him to sit back and watch the cycle of glimmers slowly raining down or snaking their way up his arm to join the ball, before flowing out from the bottom. He had never controlled geo like this before, but all it had taken was a little hint from Morax on how to start.

It was late at night; on the same day he had been to meet adeptus Xiao. Tomorrow was the last day off Hu Tao had ordered to Zhongli before he would return to his work at the Parlor. Come morning, however, his “work” with the God of Contracts would start in earnest. Today, after their long discussion in the space within, Zhongli had gone forward with his personal preparations Morax had set for him. Which was to eat, rest and get rid of the now very clumpy dried-up blood from his neck and shirt. Which Zhongli had entire forgotten about… He had tapped a little white bandage carefully on top of the cut wound on his neck after thoroughly cleaning it. He had then made himself food, assorted from things he could find from his kitchen, and stretched away the last stiffness from his muscles.

That had landed him to this position: practicing the use of the little power Morax could grant him without the risk of being detected by malicious entities. Since they were now going forward with a plan where Zhongli was much more involved than Morax had initially wanted, the god had been adamant that they made sure he could protect himself if things turned dire. Which Zhongli could understand and agree with, after hearing the fate of the previous Rex Lapis.

They could not test how much of Morax’s power Zhongli could receive before it would become too much for his body or mind to withstand, because doing so could blow their cover. Instead, they had settled on testing little things, giving Morax a chance to assess Zhongli’s level of control and Zhongli a chance to get used to the feeling of using power that was not originally his own. Luckily, Zhongli was a geo vision holder, so even if someone did see him doing this, it wasn’t immediately suspicious.

That said, there was a slight problem they had soon noticed. While Zhongli was using the power he had borrowed from Morax, instead of channelling energy through his vision, it was not the vision that glowed. It was his hair. Which was… not the most inconspicuous thing to happen. It was also slightly embarrassing… Especially when Zhongli sensed Morax clearly laughing about it in the back of his mind, after the god’s initial shock of the realisation had passed.

Still, no matter how funny Morax thought Zhongli’s reaction was, Zhongli would have to pay attention that if he ever had to use Morax’s power, he would channel at least some energy to his vision to make it light up as well. After that, they’d have to hope that in amidst of the possible dangerous situation, that was diversion enough from the glowing tips of his hair.

Zhongli admitted that he wasn’t the most apt vision user out there. He was capable of summoning a geo construct that would damage enemies over time if they came close. And, upon collecting enough energy, he could form a tighter boulder-like construct above his head and send it to crash into his opponents, where it would explode, splintering apart to all directions. He also carried a polearm in the immediate storage space that his vision granted to him, but honestly his skills with it were mediocre. That said, this all had been enough for him to defend himself and others in the case they ran into overenthusiastic hilichurls on one of Hu Tao’s expeditions.

But when he had described his existing skillset to Morax, the god had given him a hearty laugh and said: “Aww, that’s cute. Let’s see what we can do with that.”

Zhongli was unsure if he should feel worried…

That night, after a few more control exercises Morax had wanted him to try, Zhongli was finally able to sleep. It was only for a short while at the time at first. Morax would continue to give him hints in between his attempts and Zhongli only once ended up in the space within by accident (which Morax took as an opportunity to give him more pointed instructions). After many tries, he grasped the trick to controlling his newly acquired energy enough to lull himself into actual sleep. It was only for a few hours, but when he glanced at the clock upon waking up and realised he had actually slept, it in itself was a wonderful feeling.

He managed another few hours sleeping session before dawn.

.

“That is what I’ve been telling you,” the scholar (Hanxue was his name if Zhongli’s memory served) said with a slightly self-important voice and crossed his arms. “Historically speaking, this entire situation is unprecedented. The adepti are bound to be as ill-equipped to handle it as the Qixing are. It is through Rex Lapis’ guidance that ill-mannered oafs that man most of the businesses in the Harbor have any semblance of self-restraint in their conduct. Without it, it is only a matter of time before they are at each other’s throats like a pack of uneducated, ravenous wolves.”

“Surely that is a bit harsh way to put it,” another man by the table, who Zhongli didn’t know, but the others with them had called Yang Wu, intercepted the scholar’s argument. Zhongli himself was wondering whether education made much of a difference in the case of hungry wolves. “You speak as if the entire Harbor can collapse on itself when the first of these ‘wolves’ decides to bounce.”

“Every rock that starts an avalanche starts as an innocent speck of dust,” Mr. Hanxue replied, all-knowingly. Zhongli decided not to comment that that is not how geology worked. “The Qixing are no better themselves. It is not by benevolence that one rises to the illustrious governing seats. Give them a chance and they shall snatch away all the Mora they can to benefit themselves. After all, not many in this city pursue purely immaterial gains like knowledge, such as myself.”

“So, you’re saying you believe the Qixing, being unable to retain the status quo for long, will forgo such plans all together in order to gain foothold among the changing tides?” Zhongli asked, while taking his teacup and enjoying the aroma of the slightly floral mix of scents on top of the citrus edge. “Speaking purely hypothetically, of course.”

“That is the only way for them to remain relevant,” Hanxue replied assuredly.

Zhongli hummed quietly into his tea, listening to the conversation continue around the table as he took a sip. His day so far had been progressing quite smoothly. It wasn’t that surprising even. In this environment, where rumours and speculations had already taken over other conversation topics, and many frantically sought to adapt to the unknown to secure their livelihoods, it wasn’t hard to get people to talk about their thoughts on the situation, even with strangers. Sometimes, as with the current case, it didn’t even take any input from Zhongli himself for the discussions to steer towards the right direction. He had simply settled for a light lunch at Wanmin Restaurant and asked a group of people around a table if he could join them. Yes, he had purposefully picked a busy time of day, when the restaurant didn’t have completely free tables available, but that was the extent of interference he had had to do.

Information. Concrete evidence of how Liyue was handling the absence of the emperor. Luckily, Zhongli had a reputation for being open to talk with all kinds of people. No one batted an eye if he asked a vendor how were their sales going thanks to the Rite of Parting. Or if he stopped to ask an employee from the Ministry of Civil Affairs if they were alright because they looked stressed. It wasn’t hard to discreetly direct someone else to make the first comment on the subject. All he needed to do after that, was be a good and understanding listener: say the right words at the right time to keep the discussion going a little longer and to include a little more detail.

People wanted to talk about the recent happenings. It affected everyone in some way and the mystery of it all even was enticing to many. What Morax wanted to know, was exactly that. How was an everyday citizen of Liyue affected and what did they think? How high and in what places could he stir the tides without causing more harm than good? What would bring up the most enticing of baits to the plates of their enemies? Morax wanted to know his battlefield and use it the most effectively he could.

Tomorrow, Zhongli’s impromptu vacation from the Funeral Parlor would end and he’d return to work. That meant that today, he had all the time they wanted to take to wander and conduct his little secret interviews.

Although Mr. Hanxue’s take on the course things would take was quite pessimistic and distrusting of the Qixing and the adepti, his premises for thinking so were not entirely wrong. Liyue was now on its second week of not knowing what had happened to the previous emperor or having heard anything of a new one. The effects of it were clearer every day. Rex Lapis was of course only one person, or two depending on how you counted, but the sudden nature of the ruler’s absence had caught everyone off guard. And in the case of an emperor, one person made a big difference.

Needless to say, the emperor held much authority and influence in Liyue. All new or updated laws that were suggested went through Rex Lapis before they could be made official. Big investments, expeditions and trade deals the Qixing or other government offices wished to take also often required the emperor’s approval. They were the highest authority in international and diplomatic affairs and the palace was often in charge of hosting important guests. There were also public events that had been planned to be either co-planned, supervised or accepted by the emperor before his untimely passing. Rex Lapis also held the position of commander for both the adepti and the millelith, or in other words, the army. No issues on national security ever went unheard by the emperor.

The list vent on. Some laws did dictated what to do in the absence of an opinion from an emperor on certain issues and the Qixing were surely furiously trying to dig up more of those so that the entire structure of the government didn’t lose its foothold. So far, they were doing admirably: stepping up and holding the reigns in the emperor’s absence. Morax seemed quite pleased with that. Still, even if the Qixing didn’t give into panic, that didn’t mean no one did.

As far as Zhongli could tell, one of the biggest issues causing uncertainty at the moment was the fact that the imperial palace was the biggest private funder of new and experimental businesses and excursions. People could seek either financial, material or intellectual aid for their ideas directly from the emperor through a specified route. The level and form of aid was fluctuating, but many new endeavours flourished and gained a place in the city because of it. It was a route for both aspiring and old businesses, and humanitarian or cultural investments to take a chance at rising to relevance with a little push to get things going.

And now that route was gone. People were putting their ideas on hold, waiting for a more opportune moment or starting to think of backing out completely. They were cautious, spent less money and waited to make investments. Deals and business talks were getting put on hold. And Mr. Hanxue wasn’t completely incorrect in his statements: where someone did not take chance, there were some who were taking the risks and sneaking their toes between doors that otherwise might have not opened for them.

Uncertainty. It was escalating: slowly but surely.

Money in itself was another problem. Mora was a currency all of Teyvat recognized and used. And only the emperor of Liyue had the power to make it. It wasn’t an issue yet, but the mints of the Golden House had already quieted down. If their ruse persisted for long and the value of Mora started to rise, it would change the entire market scene.

It was a little too early to make drastic statements about the future one way or another. If all went well, all of the issues caused by Zhongli hiding his new identity would be fixed soon, after Morax had successfully dealt with his opponents. If everything went well. This all was certainly far above the incentives Zhongli usually had to deal with in his tasks.

“Would you like any dessert, Mr. Zhongli?” Xiangling asked him cheerfully as she collected his empty plate and balanced it on top of a tower of empty dishes on her hand. “There’s something new you could try. I’ve been trying to think of a way to add carrots into a dish in a way Xingqiu agrees to eat them and just came up with a new recipe for this super fluffy pancake using carrots and mist flowers to add taste to the dough!”

Zhongli stopped watching the crumbs of tea leaves group up in a little swirl in the centre of his cup and smiled at her. “Thank you, but not today. I’m afraid I need to be going.”

“Oh? I thought you were on vacation,” Xiangling chatted while collecting the dishes of Zhongli’s dining companions who had excused themselves a while earlier.

“Hm? How did you know?”

“Oh! Hu Tao told me,” Xiangling explained. “She has… erm… well, been visiting me frequently ever since you started to plan the Rite of Parting. I think she didn’t want to bother you that much during such an important job so she’d often drop by to chat!”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows at the way Xiangling’s eyes shifted to the side like she was avoiding speaking of something. Hu Tao had been bothering him a little less than usual ever since he had collapsed that one morning at work. Don’t tell me… “Has the director by any chance been using you as a pranking and scaring target in my stead?”

“Ah— no no! Or well yes, but it’s nothing serious! We’re friends after all,” Xiangling quickly said but Zhongli simply sighed when hearing that. Why was he not surprised…?

“My apologies. I’ll talk with her tomorrow.”

“No, really it’s okay, I don’t mind,” the young chef quickly assured as Zhongli finished his tea and stood up. “So, what has you so busy on your day off, Mr. Zhongli?”

“Not busy per se, I simply wish to visit the memorial altar today and the late afternoon is the busiest there. I wish to avoid the worst crowd.”

“Oh, you hadn’t gone yet? I thought you of all people would have. I went there yesterday myself. We took turns during the quieter hours with dad so one of us could keep the restaurant open while the other went to pay respects.”

Zhongli sighed a little. “I was… tired after my work week. That is why the director extended my vacation. You’ve been busy too, I understand. Be sure not to overwork yourself, miss Xiangling.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’ve taken some time to rest.”

“Good!” Xiangling said, looking genuinely happy. “And don’t worry, I have dad and Guoba to look after me. The Rite was really neat by the way. Oh! You know, I collected some of the flowers that fell onto the streets! I made a bouquet from them and dried it to use as a decoration.”

“You did?” Zhongli was a little surprised. While talking, he took some of the plates Xiangling was balancing off the dish tower to make it a little lighter as they kept talking. “I wasn’t aware the previous Rex Lapis was so dear to you.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. But it felt like an important memento of the occasion,” Xiangling replied while stealing the dishes Zhongli took back, assuring she could carry all of them. “It was such a nice ritual that I had never heard of before! And it’s not often someone you know cooks up a big event like that, so the flowers felt really special!”

“Well, I’m sure our late emperor would not mind.” Zhongli was honestly a little flattered to hear her say this. But he couldn’t let himself completely forget why he was out and about today. “Speaking of the Rite, I know people often eat out during the Rites of Parting and Ascension. I hope the lack of the other hasn’t been affecting you and your father?”

“Not really. It’s actually been pretty busy recently,” Xiangling replied light-heartedly, but frowned a little. “I’m happy work keeps me occupied though, because if I had time to think, I’d probably be super worried about the next emperor.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “How so?”

“Well, our customers keep telling wilder and wilder tales of what might have happened to the previous Rex Lapis. It’s a lot of scary talk and crazy conspiracies when people get going, especially if they’ve had a few servings of alcohol. So, I just hope that at least the next person the God of Contracts chooses is doing okay.”

Zhongli was dumbfounded for a second, before he huffed a little laugh. “I’m sure they are.”

Xiangling laughed a little as well. “Somehow when you say it, it feels like it’s true.” Suddenly a small bear creature hopped over to them and tapped Xiangling on the leg. She readjusted the dish tower and took a hold of it with both hands. “I should get going before dad starts to wonder what’s taking me so long. It was nice to chat, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Likewise. And thank you for the meal. It was delicious as always.”

“Aww, thank you. I’ll sent the bill to the Funeral Parlor again.”

“Oh, erm… yes, if you would be so kind.”

“No problem! Hm? What’s the matter Guoba?” Xiangling was about to leave when she stopped to look at her bear companion curiously.

Zhongli too looked down at the little bear, who had come to stand in front of him after catching Xiangling’s attention. Guoba looked up at him quietly, head tilted to the side like he was thinking, before he smiled and started waving his paw happily up at him.

Zhongli wasn’t sure what to make of the bear’s behaviour. “Hello to you too, little friend. I see you’re doing well.”

“Yup!” Xiangling confirmed. “Guoba is as happy as ever. Looks like he really wanted to say hi to you, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Well, it is nice to see you too, Guoba,” he said, offering the bear a nod. “But I shouldn’t be keeping you two from your duties any longer. Have a good day, both of you.”

Zhongli made a move to circle around them to leave as Xiangling said bye to him as well. Guoba however stopped waving as Zhongli passed him. Instantly the happy expression fell and the bear started looking sad instead. Zhongli stopped, surprised to see the little bear react to him so.

“Aww, Guoba,” Xiangling said and balanced the dishes on one hand again to pet the head of her companion. “I didn’t know you liked Mr. Zhongli that much.”

Me neither, Zhongli thought to himself before smiling to the bear in an effort to cheer him up. “I’ll come again soon.”

That earned him a happy babble and another wave to send him off as Zhongli walked away from the restaurant towards Yujing Terrace. He pondered a little about the bear’s behaviour: this was the first time Guoba had been so eagerly expressive around him. The little creature was always friendly to everyone, but this felt a little different. Something on the back of his mind, which he really should just start calling Morax at this point, was telling him that it might be too. He should ask the god about it the next time they spoke.

There wasn’t technically speaking a need for him to pay his respects to the emperor. According to Morax, he had already done so by putting up the Rite and helping the soul go free. But it would have been suspicious if anyone was watching him for him not to go. And if one wanted to insert themselves into a discussion about the current state of affairs, the memorial altar for the mysteriously parted emperor was a very inconspicuous place to start such conversations. And that is exactly what Zhongli was planning to do. Also, a little bit of professionalism in him wanted to see that the venue was well taken care of in his absence.

Despite of what Morax had said, Zhongli felt personally a little better offering his prayers for the emperor’s soul properly. He refrained from praying in the name of the God of Contracts however, because it felt weird to him now that the god could definitely hear and comment about it. Zhongli found himself wondering, what the emperor had been like as a person. Some emperors had been able to meet their predecessors in the past and Zhongli would have very much liked to talk with someone else who had experienced a god living in their mind.

After lighting an incense stick of his own to join the others by the altar and checking that everything about the site was well taken care of, Zhongli started to make his way slowly out of the Terrace. He stopped to talk with people along the way, hearing some more stories and opinions from around the city. While he did learn interesting things, it wasn’t anything ground-breaking, mostly only emphasizing on things he had already heard. There was only a small pang of guilt he felt when he heard a child explain how the atmosphere was tiring and the adults were acting so tight, that it was hard to have fun while out playing.

It was only after he had already left the terrace and walking across the stone walkways over the decorative ponds, when he was alerted from his thoughts by a familiar voice.

“Inform the millelith on guard around the city to stay alert and report anything unusual immediately,” a clear female voice said with a commanding tone. “We cannot know how the situation changes once the news spread, but above all, we want the citizens to feel safe. And avoid any more unnecessary rumours from starting to spread as much as possible.”

Zhongli glanced towards the voices as a millelith captain responded in affirmative to the lady in purple clothing walking in front of him. The Yuheng…

“The Qixing will meet with the adepti later to discuss our response,” Keqing continued and they stopped at the end of the wooden pathway where it met the stone, leading into the main streets. “I will keep the millelith posted as soon as we have more information.”

“Yes, lady Keqing,” the captain said in attention before hurrying off.

Zhongli had reached the end of the stone bridge and stopped to wait for the captain to leave, before taking a couple more steps forward to reach a proper conversation distance with the Yuheng.

“Lady Keqing,” he greeted with a little respectful bow. “I see you’re as hard at work as ever.”

“Oh, Mr. Zhongli.” Keqing turned to him, raising her gaze from the scroll in her hands. “Yes, recently more so than usual it feels like. But you have nothing to worry about, it is nothing we cannot handle.”

Instantly reassuring me of things being fine I see, Zhongli thought to himself, deciding to be direct with the Yuheng instead of trying to lead the conversation on. The opportunity to hear thoughts from one of the Qixing directly was a lucky break. “Pardon my intrusion, but I couldn’t help but hear parts of your conversation just now. Has something happened?”

Keqing sighed. “I suppose a person like you would not be likely to spread around rumours…”

Zhongli shook his head. “If it is a matter of secrecy, I shall not pry into it, Yuheng. But given the situation, I am willing to offer my aid, should you require it.”

“Secrecy is not the issue here. Something like this cannot be kept a secret for long. People will find out soon, no matter what we do,” Keqing replied. “I can tell you, that yes: indeed, something has happened. And it does not help the existing situation we’re dealing with.”

Zhongli noted that the Yuheng seemed uncharacteristically restless. She was usually on top of her conduct, but right now she looked anxious, although she was hiding it well. Something that cannot be hidden by the Qixing… “The way you speak of it makes this sounds like something new brewing is outside of your control, rather than something having come to light about an existing problem. Would I be wrong in assuming it to be an outside issue that requires your response?”

“You’re quite astute, Mr. Zhongli, that is indeed correct. Although it would be beneficial for us to keep this under the wraps until the existing issue with Rex Lapis is dealt with, we do not hold the strings.” Keqing glanced around. There were some people walking atop the stone bridge or spending time by the railing of the wooden walkway, but no one was currently within earshot of them. She took a step closer anyway and spoke softer. “And actually, considering your offer earlier, there is something you might be able to help with. It might have actually saved me some time to have run into you at this moment. I know you’re well-versed in Liyue traditions, so let me ask you: are you in any way familiar with Sumeru's rituals of the same nature?”

“Sumeru…” Zhongli repeated and held his chin in thought. “I would not call myself the most educated on the subject, but I do know a thing or two. And it is certainly not beyond my capability to research.”

Keqing nodded. “Then we might perhaps call for you, since you have the experience in organizing such events, in the case a formal address or something similar is required from the Qixing.”

“I am happy to help. May I inquire what this is about?” Zhongli decided to press. “Has something happened in Sumeru?”

“Yes. I suppose, since we might require your expertise, it is only right to warn you about it.” Keqing took a deep breath. “The Qixing received a message from the Akademiya only a few hours ago. Apparently, a huge fire has destroyed large parts of the forests and damaged many settlements and cities as well. As far as we have heard, it is still raging. No one seems to know what was the cause of it as of yet, but they are investigating.”

“A devastating event for humans and animals alike,” Zhongli said solemnly, feeling a wave of empathy at the thought. He could tell Morax was listening in closely on their discussion from the stirring in the back of his mind. “I’m guessing Liyue will be offering humanitarian aid then?”

“That we can only decide once we know more of the situation, but we will offer what manner of aid we can should it be required,” Keqing said but shook her head. “That is, however, not the main issue regarding the situation there. It wasn’t in fact even the main point of the message we received.” She took a step closer still. “Although we cannot keep this a secret for long, I trust you to not go spreading this around everyone in the city.”

“You have my word.”

“There was a… casualty during the fire. According to the message we received, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata has passed away.”

It was hard for Zhongli to remain calm after hearing Keqing’s words. Not because he himself felt strongly about it or even had time to think what he had heard really meant. Before Zhongli could digest the information, there was a stunned, cold weight of silence that sank down his spine and settled into a pit near his stomach. Disbelief. Worry. Anger. Zhongli shuddered at the feeling and quickly closed his eyes, hoping to heavens they did not start to glow when he felt Morax’s reaction to the news as his own.

The Dendro Archon was dead.

“We do not know the details,” Keqing continued. “The news will spread about this soon, most likely before we can get new updates from our colleagues in the Akademiya.” She paused for a breath and looked towards the imperial palace. “This type of news was not something we needed while our own archon is missing…” she admitted quietly.

Zhongli suddenly understood her restlessness. When the news about the Dendro Archon’s death would spread, at a time when the whole of Liyue was already growing more anxious about the uncertainty in the air, there was no way to tell how badly some people would react. Or how many it would affect. People could become more inclined to quickly draw drastic conclusions or accept grim opinions, start acting based on less information than they would normally or even worse, despair. A national disaster had happened in Sumeru only moments after the death of Rex Lapis: a disaster that had claimed the life of an archon. Right now, when the people of Liyue knew nothing of the whereabouts of their own god, it would be a normal reaction for anyone who cared about their divine ruler to worry.

“Are you alright?”

Zhongli raised a hand to his forehead, pressing lightly on his temples. He kept his eyes shut still, just in case. Morax was not calm about this. He could almost see in his mind the way the god had buried his fingers in the hair under the white hood, ripping into it. The localized pit of howling winter winds in his chest was impossible to ignore. “…Yes. My… apologies. That information was just so sudden. I can understand why you do not want this spreading at this time.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Keqing said and took a step back now and cleared her throat. “Depending on how this situation develops, the Qixing might be required to make a formal address in respect. There are also many people from Sumeru who live and work in Liyue, who we wish will get a chance to say a proper goodbye if they so wish. I’ll be contacting you at a later date if we require some aid.”

“I understand,” Zhongli promised and straightened, opening his eyes. Morax had all but shut himself from him, leaving Zhongli feeling alone in his mind. “Should you request it, I will do my best to aid you. Thank you for sharing such information with me so readily, lady Keqing. I appreciate the trust.”

Keqing shook her head. “Like I said, it is not a secret and since we might ask for your help, it is natural to tell you about it beforehand. Now, I must be going. There is a lot to be done.”

Zhongli nodded. “As the Yuheng, you’re undoubtedly busy in the current state of things. Please, take care of yourself. Something happening to the members of the Qixing is the last thing we need.”

“As I told you in the beginning, it is nothing we cannot handle and I really mean it,” Keqing said and turned to leave, speaking over her shoulder. “Emperor or not, Rex Lapis is still but one person. One person’s added workload is not going to topple the Qixing. We’re more than capable of handling the situation, even if it is not easy. It is the attitudes of everyone else and the more old-fashioned laws that hold us back and create more work.”

Zhongli huffed a little after they had said their goodbyes and Keqing had left. That’s the Yuheng for you. For a second, he entertained the thought of would she have chosen to say what she did if Zhongli had revealed his identity to her. Knowing her, most likely yes.

Then he released a breath from his lungs, running a hand through his hair, and started digesting the information he had just received.

Morax remained silent. Zhongli walked among the crowd down the bustling main street, trying to decide his next course of action. This piece of news would undoubtedly change how things needed to be approached. He found himself hoping that the information from Sumeru was inaccurate or that the Qixing had been somehow mistaken. But that was highly unlikely and it was not like Keqing had a reason to lie to him. Not that he could think of, at least. The Yuheng might not have been the biggest fan of Rex Lapis, but she didn’t know of Zhongli’s relation with that topic.

…She didn’t, right?

Zhongli groaned and rubbed his temples. He was not looking forward to the time he’d have to reveal the whereabouts of the God of Contracts to the people. This all was turning into a bigger and bigger mess, and ultimately, Zhongli knew he would be held responsible for a majority of it. The face Lady Keqing alone would make if she found out was enough to make him wish he could keep hiding forever.

.

“Morax…”

“I could have gone to see them!” the god snarled at Zhongli’s attempt to calm himself. “I was going to go see them! Someone threatened me. My life. That is not something I or any of the archons has experienced in centuries. I thought to contact them and inform them of what I know. But what have I done instead? Gotten myself so weak I cannot even face my own people!”

Zhongli jolted at the loud, booming crack from the outside of the room, like a mountain had been split into two somewhere. The lights in the room had dimmed and were flickering at the weight hanging in the air. Zhongli was reminded of the way the sky had been split in half during his first trip to this place. So far, the room itself was intact. But if Morax’s emotions affected the state of this place like he had once said, Zhongli was happy it was dark outside the room so he could not see the effects in real time again.

“We cannot tell if these two occurrences are related based on what we know,” Zhongli reasoned with the man who looked like he was standing half a room away from him, but felt like he was in all corners of the room at once. Morax had let him in, but Zhongli did not feel like there was space in here for him at the moment. The fog around them was thicker again. “How are you so sure you could have done something to prevent this?”

Morax looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Have you heard what has been happening in Mondstadt as of late?”

“In… Mondstadt?” Zhongli hadn’t expected such a question and quickly dug up some news from his memories that he had heard in passing before the Rite of Parting preparation had started. “One of their divine guardians seems to have been agitated by something and has been causing storms in the city.”

“Yes. It first happened around a month ago, at least based on what news has reached me,” Morax said and turned to look into the dark stone garden outside. “But that was around the time it started getting worse. I don’t know how long Dvalin has been so restless or why. The last news I have is that a great storm, harshest one yet, hit the City of Freedom around half a week before I was attacked.” He took a short break before asking. “How much do you know of the Anemo Archon?”

Zhongli was frowned, unsure what the other was getting at. “I’ve read many stories and legends. And I know he does not rule over his people like the other archons, honouring their freedom to choose their own path.”

“’Honouring’?” Morax scoffed and a hint of exasperation was suddenly added to his tone. “Honour is not a word I’d be associating with that drunkard. But that is not important now,” he mumbled to himself, before turning around. “What’s important, is that most times Barbatos is asleep. He wakes up only in times of turmoil or strife, usually totally oblivious for a while as to what is happening until he gets his brain working somewhat adequately again. Then he aids his people should they need it, fools about among the mortals for a century or two, before going back to sleep. For the last couple of centuries, he has been slumbering again, away from the world.”

Zhongli thought on his words, connecting them with the topic at hand and the question of his Morax was answering to. He stiffened as things started to click in his mind. Turmoil… “Then…”

“Knowing this, to wake the Anemo Archon… no, to find the Anemo Archon, what would you find the most effective?” Morax questioned with a poisonous voice. Zhongli did not answer, for the god knew already he had caught on to what he was trying to tell him. Morax sighed and the tension in the air lessened slightly. “I cannot be sure, to answer your question properly. But I can be cautious. The death of an archon is no small matter. It has been several centuries since we last had to say goodbye to one of the Seven. If Rukkhadevata has left us and I was targeted directly as well, those winds around Mondstadt are suddenly howling in a different tone to me.”

“Can you contact the other archons still?” Zhongli asked, realising just what magnitude of a dilemma he had gotten involved with. And he was not okay with it.

Morax shook his head. “I’m still weakened. I could go, but not without half of Teyvat noticing. Well, half might be an exaggeration, but whoever notices includes anyone who is waiting and keeping an eye out for me to show myself. And I am quite certain they’re less likely to underestimate me a second time. Rex Lapis rarely uses much of their divine strength to solve issues, not since the landslide in Mingyun Village over a century ago.” His face hardened and eyes gleamed again. “They might have thought I’ve grown docile or that the vessels have limited the overall power I have. But even the worst fool will not try to trap a dragon into a bird cage twice.”

“I understand,” Zhongli said, trying to calm his own inner turmoil by channelling it into something productive. “Can you ask the adepti? Should I add instructions to the message I will send them?”

“Not to the same one. I don’t want to flood one channel with all the water,” Morax decided immediately and thought for a moment, with a twitching frown appeared on his face. “But yes… Even if it is risky, I have to get to the bottom of this and warn all the rest of the archons, in the case something is still to happen elsewhere.” He sighed and looked Zhongli in the eyes. “I understand I am asking a lot from you with all of this. But I promise to keep you safe.”

Zhongli closed his eyes and bowed his head down a little to the god. “I know you did not want any of this. I will do my best to aid you in finding out the truth.”

“You… well. Never mind. Thank you.”

“And Morax?” Zhongli decided to add, straightening.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

The god raised an eyebrow at him. “For what?”

“For your loss,” Zhongli replied and put a hand over his heart. “You lost a friend today.”

Morax was stunned silent for a few seconds before he turned his back to Zhongli. He raised his hands to tightly clutch his upper arm and side, when he mumbled a reply. “Yes… I suppose I did.”

.

The time Zhongli was supposed to use that evening to visit the market place and other locations around town to collect information, he spent updating their plans with Morax and training when they were done. The more used he was to the feeling of the god’s power, the more options they would have should a need to use them arise. And the more plans they had in place, the less likely there would be a need. He couldn’t do much still, at the risk of being sensed, but the little geo particles did move better according to his wishes by the time he decided to get a few hours of sleep before going back to work in the morning.

But as if everything was competing on how to make things turn from bad to worse faster than the next: the next day, new information reached Zhongli’s ears while walking through the streets, before he even arrived at the Funeral Parlor.

In the early hours of the morning, the Crux Fleet had returned from one of their trips and the sailors carried with them some worrying news. Their planned trip had been cut short to avoid further casualties to both ships and the crew, making them turn back and return to Liyue to repair and recover. Now, after a long week of fighting against the winds and waves, the Crux had reached the Harbor and could share their experiences.

A great storm had closed off the entirety of Inazuma from the rest of the world.

Chapter Text

“That storm is in no way natural, I’m telling you,” Beidou reported and shook her head, spreading her hands. “No storm I have seen engulfs the entire sea behind a wall of purple clouds and strikes lightning down every second step you take. And I’ve seen and sailed through many on my travels. That beast rose around us entirely too quickly and without any warnings too.”

“And it is impossible to get through?” Ningguang asked from her seat behind her desk, looking thoughtful and calculating. It was one thing after another these days to add onto her growing list of concerns. “It is not often the Crux Fleet returns to harbour with a tail between their legs.”

“Hey, I’ve prioritized the lives of my crew here. There isn’t a sea I can’t sail,” Beidou countered, confident in both herself and her crew. “But this one isn’t something you can get through without proper preparations. And taking many ships through at once is a no go, at least until we know better what we’re up against. We don’t want to be losing the entire fleet in the case something goes wrong. And keeping track of other ships in that electric fog while also trying to navigate your way through would be next to impossible. No compass works within the storm and let alone seeing the sky, you’d be lucky to see the water while looking over the railing. Not losing your way and getting turned around among those waves is easier said than done.”

“Hmm…” Ningguang hummed and turned to look at the adeptus in the room. “Ganyu. I am guessing the adepti have not heard a word as to why the Electro Archon might have called forth such a storm?”

“No, Lady Ningguang.” Ganyu shook her head.

“And could the adepti travel through the storm to enter Inazuma?”

“Well, um…” Ganyu thought for a moment. “It should be possible, if we send the right person. But visiting other gods without Rex Lapis’ consent is highly unusual. Actually, unprecedented.”

Ningguang sighed. “Would you not say that these are highly unusual circumstances? I understand I hold no right to command the adepti, but in the absence of Rex Lapis, I hold the highest authority in Liyue. As such international and diplomatic affairs are also under my jurisdiction for the time being. With the news we have received from Sumeru, we cannot afford to rest on our laurels not knowing what goes on in other nations. If something has happened in Inazuma, that is four of the Seven Nations getting put through a grinder of sorts at once. In all honesty, may his majesty rest in peace, but Liyue might have gotten off easy compared to Sumeru and Mondstadt.”

“Still no sign of Rex Lapis then?” Beidou asked, looking at Ganyu. “Here I was prepared to come back to greet a new emperor after this trip.”

“I…” Ganyu hesitated and bowed her head down. “I’m sorry. We’re doing everything we can.”

“Hey, relax, I’m not doubting you. I’m sure the adepti want to solve this situation as much as everybody else,” Beidou assured. “Just let me know if there is something our fleet can do to help you out.”

“Oh? …Thank you, captain.”

“And Ningguang.” Beidou turned back to the Tianquan. “Leave the Inazuma case to us. The adepti have their hands full already. Getting over the sea to places is our job.”

“Very well,” Ningguang said and nodded. “Who am I to doubt the great captain Beidou’s skills in seafaring? Bring me news of the happenings in Inazuma and you will be… compensated.”

“Sounds good to me. As long as I get to decide what food and drinks are involved.”

“As you wish. I will also offer financial aid to repair the damage done to your ships.”

“Look at you, wanting to get me out of your hair so quickly.”

“We must deal with this issue urgently, so I want you to be on your way as soon as possible.”

“I hear you loud and clear, don’t worry. We got this.”

When Beidou had left to prepare her ship and crew for their new mission, with Ganyu at her heels to aid in the assessing of the the required financial aid Ningguang had promised the fleet, the Tianquan herself leant back on her chair and pulled out her pipe. Without lighting it, she played with it, letting it slowly twirl on her fingers. Watching the carvings and decorations slide across her view from all angles as the pipe turned helped her mind decide on the things it most needed to sort out. It was calming to her, feeling and watching the expensive pipe do as she wished above her hand. Control and understanding of her life in all things she cared about was what Ningguang strived for. Be it a personal item she could hold in her hands, information she could pin on her wall or the city of Liyue spreading beyond her windows.

“Rex Lapis,” she said quietly to herself, contemplating the weight that name carried. She had thought she understood the meaning and weight that name and person possessing it held in their hands, but as the recent week had passed, she was more and more certain she knew next to nothing. It wasn’t the amount of work they did or the reverence they commanded. The emperor of Liyue was more than that. Needless to say, she would do her utmost in the emperor’s absence, but there was something she could not grasp. A hole she couldn’t find a way to fill.

She felt a change in the air, as if the gears that made the world were turning somewhere she couldn’t see. It was an unpleasant feeling. Even in the ever-traditional Liyue, change was inevitable, but this week had truly been one change after another that caused her stress. Ningguang leant back in her chair, letting her thoughts dance from a piece of information to the next, forming strings of thought that gradually weaved her next move. She would not have risen to the position of the Tianquan if she did not know how to turn even setbacks and hard times into profit. She needed to expect and plan for even the unexpected. And she had someone in mind who could help her.

.

Zhongli sighed at the still wet ink on his chair and went to get a towel to clean it off. He was back at the Parlor and hadn’t even gotten a chance to sit down to look at the work that had piled up during his absence before Hu Tao had decided to strike. He swore that girl had an emotional maturity of an eight-year-old at times… And the sense of humour to fit one too. His current mindset and worries were not fit to handle the director at full force.

And speak of the devil…

“Well now, look who has decided to show up,” Hu Tao giggled as she skipped across the floorboards to meet him when Zhongli showed up within her field of vision with a towel at hand.

“Need I remind you that it was you who ordered me to take a few days off, director?” Zhongli asked, unamused.

“Yes, but who knows: perhaps you had so much fun out there with the living, that coming back to work for the dead just slipped your mind,” Hu Tao chatted and circled around Zhongli innocently to peek at his backside too see any evidence of her success.

Zhongli scowled at her. “Did you really expect me to fall for that? I would appreciate if you didn’t actively try to ruin my clothes for your own amusement, director. Or the furniture.”

“Oh, come on, it was just a bit of ink.”

“Must I remind you then?” Zhongli crossed his arms. “That that much wet ink will indeed seep into the wood when allowed a moment to rest?” He held the towel up to show it to her before decisively striding along and heading to his office to deal with the mess she had created. “Thanks to you, that chair will from now on say ‘old’ to anyone who pulls it out and tries to use it.”

Hu Tao followed a step behind him without a hint of remorse. “It’s a good thing it’s yours then. We wouldn’t want you to forget important life lessons, now would we?”

Zhongli took a deep breath and bit back an argument, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. He knew better than to allow himself to be pulled along with the director’s pace. Hu Tao followed him to the office and hummed happily, inspecting the things on his table while Zhongli cleaned as much of the ink off his seat as he could.

“Was there something you needed from me, director?” Zhongli asked once he was sure he could again muster a more professional tone. He folded the blackened towel to a side table in a spot where he’d easily remember to take it with him the next time he left.

Hu Tao napped the towel between her fingers and took it as soon as he had let go of it. “I’ll take this to be cleaned. See, isn’t this that ‘responsibility’ you always say I should be more aware of?”

“I do not think taking out the laundry after someone already cleaned your mess counts,” Zhongli sighed. “Did you need something or did you just come to bother me?”

Hu Tao did in fact pull out a letter from her pocket to give to him. A client request she had received that she wanted his advice on. Before leaving, she also told him that her instructions for the next few lectures Zhongli would give to the undertakers were in the piles of paper on his desk. Somewhere. After she had cheerfully wished him a good day at work, saying she would go out to do promotion if someone asked, Zhongli shuffled the papers around until he found her instructions.

He held bi-weekly lectures to the employees of the Parlor, on various topics, to both refresh and broaden their existing knowledge. Last week, the lecture had been cancelled because of Zhongli’s work on the Rite of Parting and this week’s one was pushed to the end of the week because of his vacation. He’d have three days to make a seminar about embalming techniques and a presentation of a corpse that needed to look presentable for a rite. As the threat of disease had been reduced slowly but surely through the centuries, many families had started wanting to see their loved ones one final time before the burial or cremation. Hu Tao didn’t personally care for a practice that made the dead look more alive again, but it was a profitable service they could offer, so she didn’t complain. In public at least: Zhongli had certainly heard her opinions many times.

Zhongli found himself staring at the papers lying around his desktop, unable to will himself to start working on any of them. In a minute, he would pull himself together, slap himself mentally to gear his brain to the right mindset to get things done and proceed like usual. For just a moment however, he had the memory of Hu Tao’s smile at the forefront of his mind. How she would chat about this or that after coming over to try and scare him into making a mistake in his notes. Perhaps the upcoming lecture was something Zhongli still would hold, but what about the next?

Zhongli’s hand gripped a little into the paper under his palm. How would that cheerful expression change when he’d hand her a letter of resignation? The thought of resigning had never crossed his mind before. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was a place he felt he belonged in. He did not want to leave it behind. But what choice did he have? And what should he say when the time would come? What could he say? Could he by then… tell her the truth?

He shook his head and pushed himself away from the table, grabbing the papers closest to his fingers to go through them as he started pacing around the room. He’d have to do it. What he felt about it made no difference. For now, as long as he was here, he should clear as much of his desk as possible for the sake of the next person Hu Tao would hire after he’d need to leave. Starting with this… oh: this second page of something.

Sighing, he went back to the desk to look for the first.

.

The maintenance report was penned just as he had requested, Zhongli realised to his delight. The altar and the decorations were also well kept. He had glanced at them yesterday on his visit, but even at a closer inspection, everything seemed to be in order. Good. The morning hours to catch up on paperwork, a fulfilling lunch, a short meeting with a client’s family and then back to the site of the Rite of Parting. The day was progressing smoothly.

The Ministry of Civil Affairs worker, who was in charge of watching over the site today, was nervous as he waited for Zhongli’s verdict on his work. Apparently, someone had told him that Zhongli was incredibly strict with how things should be and would reprimand him without a second thought if a decoration was even crooked. Zhongli wasn’t sure why he’d get such a reputation. Sure, he was particular about how things should be, but he wasn’t going to yell at someone for making a mistake. Seeing how relieved the man was when Zhongli didn’t scold him was mildly uncomfortable. If this man knew Zhongli was to become the emperor eventually, he’d have probably fainted… But Zhongli doubted Morax would take that for a reason to reconsider his choice.

That aside, after he had assured the man such rumours about him were not to be taken so seriously, there was someone else he needed to see. While walking towards the Yuehai Pavilion, Zhongli glanced towards the palace that loomed high against the sky behind the Yiyan Temple. He could see some sparkles and runic texts at times floating in the air around it before disappearing, then reappearing elsewhere. It seemed that Morax had been right: the adepti had fortified the palace’s protections since the incident. Morax had instructed Zhongli that if there ever was danger, seeking refuge in the palace was the best option. Since the adepti now knew of him, they would let him in no matter which entrance he’d show up at. And thanks to Morax, he now knew there were more of those than the three that were public knowledge.

Zhongli stopped when a woman he recognized walked out of the Yuehai Pavilion door before he reached it. “Miss Huixin,” he greeted with a little bow and stopped. “Good afternoon.”

“You are…” one of secretaries for the Qixing racked her brain for a second. “Mr. Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, correct? Good afternoon. Can I help you?”

Now that he thought about it, perhaps she could. “Do you know where I could find miss Ganyu, by any chance?” he asked and opened the folder he had in his hand to pull out a stack of papers. “This is the report regarding the preparations of the Rite of Parting. The altar will be removed tomorrow as per tradition and everything is in order to proceed smoothly. I understand this report is normally only filed into the archives and wouldn’t require any manner of immediate input. However, since a few things were changed this time, I wish to hear miss Ganyu’s opinion on a few details.”

“I will be seeing head secretary Ganyu in a minute for other matters,” Huixin replied, nodding. She offered her hand towards the papers. “Would you like me to deliver the report?”

“That would be perfect. Thank you,” Zhongli said and handed it over to her. She promised to deliver his message to Ganyu so that she would look at it swiftly. Wishing Huixin a good day at work, Zhongli closed the folder he carried and left the Terrace. One less direct contact with an adeptus: check. Which was good, because Morax had been worried about Ganyu’s ability to keep a good poker face if Zhongli showed up at her office door…

Now then: next on his list was finding Hu Tao. He surmised it would be around this time the director had traumatized enough people to garner the attention of the millelith.

Morax had been right to worry about Ganyu’s reaction. Not that Zhongli or him could see the face she made when Huixin a little later handed her the report and told her Mr. Zhongli had asked her to check it.

“Are you alright, miss Ganyu?” Huixin asked and the qilin quickly snatched the papers to herself and turned around, pretending to clean up space for them on her desk.

“Yes! Absolutely,” she replied hurriedly and accidentally fumbled another pile of papers to the floor as she set the report down. That little accident granted her time for a few deep breaths while Huixin was preoccupied collecting the scattered documents.

She couldn’t chase Huixin away without concluding their business, so she held herself back admirably from going through the report immediately to read between every line she could. Or whatever it was their lord wanted from her. This report never needed immediate attention, so the fact that Rex Lapis would personally wish for her to read it had to mean something. If her fellow secretary realised her somewhat hurrying the conversation along, she did not note about it. Unbeknownst to Ganyu, Huixin did notice: but Ganyu was a busy person and everyone knew that. Seeing her flustered and hurrying one thing along to get to the next was not a new phenomenon.

What will I do if he shows up in person one day? Ganyu asked herself nervously as she sat down to read the report after Huixin had left for other work. She was already embarrassed because of her last interaction with the consultant. To know that she had back then most likely sensed something she wasn’t supposed to only added to that embarrassment. The paper crinkled slightly under her fingers as she started reading it. She would do anything to make it up to their lord if she had gotten in his way somehow. She was sure Xiao felt the same.

Based on the start of it, the report was what you would expect from an official record a big public event: a collection of receipts and notices, a sorting of planning phases and expenses, a catalogue of problems and their solutions… She had seen similar ones a hundred times, but still drank in every word she could, if only to memorize the handwriting. A knock on her door interrupted her and she looked up to see one of Ningguang’s secretaries peek inside.

“Miss Ganyu,” Baixiao said, stepping inside. “Lady Ningguang wanted to hear if the assessment for the expenses from the Crux Fleet has progressed. She also reminds that you were asked to be present later today for the meeting of the Council, as the representative of the adepti. You haven’t confirmed your attendance and the meeting will begin shortly.”

“Uhm…” Ganyu glanced at the clock on her desk, nervously. “Captain Beidou is making the final checks for the ships. I will go through them one more time when she has finished. It should be ready tomorrow, if all goes well.” The paper under her fingers rustled slightly as she tensed. “The Council meeting…” She hesitated, eyeing the report on her hands. There was no way she could get away with putting a funeral report over the summons from the Tianquan without it seeming suspicious. But she knew from experience how long Council meetings could get. I have to read this… Her eyes wandered at the neatly written lines, detailing the purchases of decoration materials. It might be important… But which is more important? Should I get someone else to read it? But he asked me to read it. Is handing it to someone else even okay? Oh, what do I do…

“Miss Ganyu?”

“Yes,” she replied, clearing her throat. “I’ll be there. Let me just… set things down before I go.” Relax, Ganyu, she told herself, tapping the stack of papers against the table to even them out. Oh heavens… I hope I don’t screw this up…Was keeping secrets always this hard?

Baixiao nodded and turned to leave. Before she could close the door, however, she stopped. A small rattle on the window was all the warning Ganyu and Baixiao got, only enough time for both of them to glance towards the side wall in curiosity.

The gust of wind that forced its way into the room scattered the papers from Ganyu’s desk. They fluttered and flew around in a whirlwind while the forcefully opened window panes hit against their hinges in loud clacks. Baixiao yelped and cowered from the sudden intrusion, barely seeing anything from beyond the papers flying about.

Ganyu clasped the pages in her hands against her chest to prevent them from scattering with the rest. Her instincts sensed the magic in the winds that were making a mess of her office and her reflexes had her tense for a potential battle. She squinted at the whirls of anemo around her, but kept her eyes trained on the window. A half-written page of a notification fluttered across her view and once it passed, she saw the young-looking boy who now sat on the window sill. Baixiao soon glanced up from under her arms as well and gasped, making the sound of shock at the man’s arrival that Ganyu wanted to make as well, but that was stuck to her throat in surprise.

“Lord… Barbatos?” Ganyu uttered as the dying winds let her poor work float down from the air. She had not seen the Anemo Archon in almost a millennium and his appearance had changed a little, mainly his clothes, but the faint familiar presence of the divine was not lost on her. Baixiao, in the meantime, looked ready to faint when Ganyu identified their visitor.

“Heya! Thank the heavens someone around here was easy to find,” the god replied with a playful tone. “I was going to go straight to the palace to look for someone, but if I flew through all those barriers you guys put up, I feel half of the Harbor would be at my throat before I could even introduce myself.” Resting one of his heels under himself on the window sill, he leant forward against his thigh.  “It’s… Ganyu, correct? It’s been a while. Oh, I apologise for the mess. I was in a hurry. If there is a cleaning bill, you can send it to the Knights of Favonius.”

Ganyu was trying to collect herself, feeling about as organized at the moment as her papers around the floor. To say that she was surprised to see an archon at her window was an understatement. If Rex Lapis now decided to show up at her door she didn’t know how to feel anymore. “Erm… um… lord Barbatos! What ahh… pleasant surprise? What brings you here?”

“I came to have an audience with the mighty Rex Lapis of course!” Barbatos replied, flippant in his delivery but with weight in his words that didn’t belong in the wind. “Only that I learnt on my way that he is currently unavailable. Ah, such a shame. A few drinks with the old blockhead would have done wonders right about now.”

“Erm…” Ganyu cleared her throat. “I’m sorry you visited at such a bad time. Would you, um… that is to say, what are you—"

“I’m glad you asked!” Barbatos raised his voice before she could finish. “I hear there is a little unfun game of hide and seek going on around here. Would you like help looking?”

Ganyu’s eyes widened a little. “Pardon?”

The God of Freedom laughed. “You have a god to find, no? Well: I swear, if he dares to try and get killed out there, I will personally hunt him down. And write the most illustrious of ballads about how lame he was when I saved him.”

Ganyu cleared her throat again, nervously this time. Just a few days ago, she would have welcomed this offer with gratitude. Now, however… “Baixiao,” she addressed her fellow secretary who flinched as she was awoken from her stunned shock and brought into the conversation. She still looked like she wanted to be mistaken for a piece of furniture. “Would you kindly go tell Lady Ningguang that I will be late for the Council meeting? I must, uh, escort our new guest to the palace.” She turned back to look at the deity in the window. “If you do not object of course, lord Barbatos. We should continue this conversation in a more appropriate location.”

.

Ganyu had brought the Anemo Archon to the imperial palace, promptly causing a minor panic among the adepti. It was good to see the neighbouring archon alive and well, considering the recent news that had reached them, but there was discourse among them on how to stop Barbatos from going to search for Rex Lapis. Some were certain it was alright to simply tell him to leave it to them and trust that he would, some thought that without a valid excuse, they could not stop him. Telling him the truth, or as much as they knew of it, similarly to how the yaksha had shared the situation with the rest of the adepti, was ultimately the safest option within the limits they knew to avoid.

What posed a bigger problem in the end however, was that Barbatos or Venti as he insisted to be called, was not the most discreet person. He understood what they told him well enough, but seemed to enjoy prancing around the subject with fancy, indirect words afterwards that didn’t instil confidence. What’s more, Venti was adamant about meeting Morax, despite of what they said.

That had brought Xiao here, in the middle of the city. They had from a distance secretly kept an eye on Rex Lapis at all times. That is why they had recalled most of the adepti into the city from all around Liyue. The adepti presence in the city had grown, making it less suspicious that someone was within a one hundred metre radius from the emperor at all times. They were admittedly torn between their orders to keep his identity a secret and their duty to protect him, so this was the middle road they had chosen until they had further orders.

Because of this arrangement, finding where Rex Lapis was at any given time wasn’t a hard task. Xiao’s real problem was in how to contact him in the middle of the day without ruining everything.

“Look.” He heard a whisper from the street below that the wind carried into his ears. “Is that an adeptus?”

Xiao was standing on top of a roof far above the street, in a spot that was clearly visible to the people below. He had donned his mask momentarily in the case his eyes betrayed him and he’d glance too directly towards the man that most needed to see him. Truly, standing out like this was screaming against his nature.

“Such a foreboding presence…”

“Do you think he’s out on a lookout for Rex Lapis?”

“Or maybe something happened? The adepti have been showing up a lot recently.”

“How scary… I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“The millelith are here protect us, don’t worry.”

How unpleasant… Xiao grumbled in his mind, glancing once down towards the street to the gossiping people before teleporting out of sight, hearing the few gasps his departure caused before he shut his ears to them.

In a spot among the high rooftops no one could see him, he took of his mask and sighed the strain of it off his shoulders. Rex Lapis had noticed him. Xiao had seen him knock down a flower vase on the reception desk of the establishment he had been visiting with the director of Wangsheng. If Xiao strained his hearing, he could hear the young director scold Rex Lapis for being clumsy and getting his clothes wet. Hearing her be so casually disrespectful and familiar with the emperor was unpleasant, so Xiao stopped soon and teleported away again. If his lord did not respond to this encounter, he’d have to think of something else.

His traversal brought him to a room lit by light from a single window. Given it was in the middle of the afternoon, it was still plenty of brightness to reach into the shadows. Xiao shrunk himself into a corner that couldn’t be seen from the window and settled to wait.

He didn’t have to wait for long until a rattle at the door warned him of it opening. As someone stepped in and the front door closed again, Xiao straightened from his waiting position and knelt down on one knee in the shadows.

Rex Lapis walked across his small apartment to the living room window and pulled the curtains over the view of the city. The door to the kitchen where the other window of the apartment was, was closed, leaving no open access to anyone viewing from the outside. Without saying a word or sparing him a glance, Rex Lapis moved to the dresser close to the bed. Xiao knew he must have seen him, so he stayed quiet.

Taking off the rings on his fingers and setting them to the clay bowl on a small table with a clink, his lord finally addressed him. “How may I help you, venerable adeptus?” he asked while pulling his gloves off to set them aside.

“My apologies…” Xiao replied, biting down a reflex to add a title of some sort. “There has been visitor to the Imperial Palace. They are adamant about meeting you in person.”

Rex Lapis made a small grunt and was silent for a while. He continued taking of his wet coat, but seemed to deliberately stall for a little time.

“I am but an associate to the adepti through the Rite of Parting. Who would want to meet me?”

“They’re… a bard, if you will,” Xiao said, careful in his wording.

The hands opening the buttons on the shirt stilled. After a few seconds they resumed their work, but the emperor took a moment longer to reply. If Xiao had to guess, there was conversation of some kind going on that he couldn’t hear. He wasn’t sure of the level of connection the newest emperor shared with their god, but from what he had seen, it seemed surprisingly intricate and profound: on the level usually showcased among emperors only long into their union with the divine. Soul diving aside, even simply communicating seemingly freely with their god while awake wasn’t something every emperor could do.

Morax could not at the moment be communicating with his vessel by directly talking into his mind. That would have left traces behind for the adepti to track. Thus, there had to be another way of communication the two souls had devised. Xiao waited patiently for this silent conversation to come to a conclusion.

“Surely a bard would have many other worries to attend to. Please tell them not to worry,” Rex Lapis finally said as he took off his wet shirt and set it aside.

Xiao doubted that would be a pleasing response to the Anemo Archon. Would Barbatos take a no for an answer? He grunted and dipped his head slightly. He would deliver his lord’s wish regardless.

Rex Lapis was rummaging the dresser for a new set of clothes. “They should be cautious themselves. Liyue is currently not the safest place to travel around.”

Xiao tensed. So, there was some threat out there their lord was aware of but they were not. Something dangerous to even someone like Barbatos. Xiao’s fingers dug into his knee his hand rested on, when he suddenly considered that their lord might have not heard of the Dendro Archon. He raised his head a little, just as Rex Lapis pushed his hand through a new sleeve. “There is … news from Sumeru.”

Rex Lapis nodded, stopping him. “I’ve heard,” he said quietly and paused again for a few seconds before glancing straight towards Xiao over his shoulder. “I hope Fontaine and Natlan get fair warning of the smokes the wind might bring their way.”

Xiao had a minute flinch in his chest at the words and bowed his head down in understanding.

Rex Lapis put on the rest of his new set of clothes. As he selected a set of gloves to wear, he spoke again. “Should the bard wish to see me even so, tell them to keep dreaming.” Without waiting for an answer, he picked up the rings from the bowl and put them on as he walked back to the door to leave. “I apologise: I must get going. Director Hu is waiting for me.”

Xiao only responded with a nod, before a flash of green and black particles carried him away from the apartment and he started his journey back to the palace.

When he had left, Zhongli sighed in relief and stepped out of the door, trying to keep the hints of stress out of his face. So... The Anemo Archon had sought him out. Or Morax, more likely. Now wasn’t that a piece of news he hadn’t expected… And judging by the very clear disdain he had sensed from the deity upon hearing Xiao’s message, this wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He understood why the adepti would have sought him out for this. Not that Zhongli had linked “bard” with another archon until a flash of a memory had been sent to the forefront of his mind to enlighten him. Still, despite his inaudible groans, Morax appeared to be relieved to learn Barbatos was alright, at least. But if there was someone out there on a hunt for Morax: Barbatos, who was most likely not trying to hide, could be in as much danger as the Geo Archon was. Zhongli hoped the God of Freedom to be understanding.

Hu Tao cheerfully welcomed him back to work and commented that he had forgotten to put on his tie. Zhongli let it be and didn’t go to get it, ushering her along to finish their business in the streets. He had a lot more paperwork to do after he was done here and a certain bank to visit in the evening. Xiao’s arrival had cut a few corners from their plans, allowing them to directly hint to the adepti that the Pyro and Hydro Archons needed to be contacted. With the arrival of Barbatos to Liyue and the knowledge Zhongli had caught on the streets that the Crux Fleet would attempt to reach Inazuma through this new storm, which meant that the Qixing had most likely taken action; this left only Snezhnaya on their list.

Which in turn meant that Zhongli needed to make use of his connections and meet a certain harbinger.

“It is never a bad idea to prepare for your future,” Hu Tao explained with a little giggle to the next person she had decided to be her victim of promotion tactics. Her day had apparently been spent going through stores in the main streets and remind the owners of ‘workplace accidents’. “You wouldn’t want to be late on such a big date, no? Doesn’t having a plan in place well in advance put your mind at ease to live your life to the fullest until then? Well, we can provide that plan for you.”

Zhongli sighed as he listened on. How many times had he heard this conversation? As per usual, when the owner of the store started to get angry with his boss, he stepped in to provide a little insight on something this particular store was selling to lighten the mood. Then he would repeat some parts of Hu Tao’s sales pitch in a more refined form, get reprimanded by her for not having enough liveliness in his speech, before getting dragged into the next place.

Really, the contrast of his two current jobs was such a clash Zhongli was having a hard time believing both were real. Perhaps he was simply dreaming one of them? Preferably the one involving an archon murder plot…

“How many more stores are you planning on visiting today exactly?” Zhongli asked with a sigh as Hu Tao brought them to a stop in front of an antiques store.

“Oh, just this and one other still. Don’t worry, you get to be back behind your desk soon enough,” Hu Tao promised as she hopped closer to check the wares on display towards the street. “Do you think you could find something useful for rites among these while we’re here?”

Zhongli glanced over the items. “I can take a look at least. While I do, director, would it be too much to ask that you—”

His voice stopped in his throat when a violent shiver shot up his spine and forced his senses into high alert. For a second the Morax he usually felt only subtly hinting things to him in the back of his mind, now gave him the impression of a dragon baring its teeth as it prepared to strike.

Before Hu Tao had time to ask him what was wrong, the entire street or in fact the entire Harbor momentarily paused all talk and business to turn their heads up into the sky. One glance and then an array of hands from all who had taken a look rose to shield the eyes from the blinding flash.

A hot, white light that hurt the eyes of those who dared take another peek, had lit up the late afternoon sky like a second sun. It was large, chasing away clouds from its vicinity and pulsing an eerie glow. Soon after the initial flash there was a sound: a high-pitched note that was carried into the ears of mostly children and young adults before disappearing entirely.

All of the harbour gasped and then fell silent, shielding their eyes yet yearning a closer look.

In the Council chamber of Yiyan temple, Ningguang, Keqing and Ganyu had risen from their seats along with the rest of the members who governed the city and stared out of the windows.

Down in the harbour, Beidou ran up to the deck of the Alcor to see what was going on and couldn’t hold back cursing under her breath.

On another part of the port, Childe kept daringly staring up at the bright light from between his fingers, determined to not miss a thing.

Somewhere in the wilds a little outside the city, Xiangling dropped the chilis she had collected as Guoba hugged her legs and shivered in discomfort.

On the main road leading to the harbour, a young exorcist paused only for a moment in surprise before running towards the city.

And on the courtyard of the imperial palace, the streets and rooftops of the city, as well as the mountains bordering Liyue Harbor, every single adeptus summoned their weapons and elements to their side.

Another flash of light and another high note burst out to command everyone’s attention, before the white, blinding glow disappeared. In its wake, it only left a circular gap into the clouds and a wave of questions and exclamation that rose from the people on the streets.

For few seconds in the rising bustle and hubbub, Hu Tao was speechless. “…Wow,” she managed as she found her voice. She stepped forward to return under the sky after having been pulled into the shade of the large parasol by the antiques store. “What do you think that—?” She was stopped, both from walking and talking, by the hand that tightly clasped around her wrist. “Zhongli?”

Zhongli had squeezed his other hand tightly over his eyes and forehead and tried to steady his breath. He had moved on instinct, moving both himself and Hu Tao away from the light, but now even with it gone, he found himself unwilling to go back out under the open sky.

Morax had left. That singular spike in his senses was the only warning Zhongli had gotten before the god had exited his consciousness, leaving behind nothing but the ghost of a connection. He had warned Zhongli that if he ventured out on his own as a spirit once again, even though their souls were still connected, it would severely limit what Zhongli could do on his own.

And thanks to that, as if to contrast the light that had just shone upon the city, Zhongli was left in the dark. Suddenly, he was aware just how much he had come to rely on Morax’s experience and power to keep himself calm. The empty space inside him the god had occupied was too vast to comprehend.

“Zhongli? Are you alright?”

What was that? Zhongli kept asking himself, but there was no answer he could find and no one to answer for him.

For the first time, ever since he had become aware of his new role, he was scared.

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, director,” Zhongli sighed and held his hands tightly together just in case they decided to shake. “That was unsightly of me.”

“Aiya, don’t worry about things like that,” Hu Tao chattered, balancing on her heels in front of him. She had managed to convince him to move from under the parasol to inside the antiques store. The inside of the store was cool and but the usual quietness of the establishment was overshadowed by the hustle that came from the streets. “You don’t have to act cool around me. Even if you did, you can’t fool me,” she chuckled and leant down to peek into his eyes that were still locked into the floor. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

He honestly wished he could, but at the same time, the thought of getting Hu Tao involved made his stomach twist. “I’m… afraid I cannot quite explain it.”

“You act like something really unpleasant crossed your mind. I’ve never seen you like that,” Hu Tao thought aloud and hummed. “Oh: did something uncomfortable ever happen to you that involved bright lights by any chance? Or do you know what that light was and are not telling me?”

“No,” Zhongli replied immediately to the second question. He wished he knew. “I do not know what that was.” The other option on the other hand: not quite true but the director had given him an easy way of explaining himself out of this. Trauma. Yes, let’s go with that. “But… something like that. I’d rather not talk about it.”

Hu Tao crouched down and held his hands. “Just try to think of something else. How will you go to the end of the tunnel when the time comes if you chicken out at the sight light at the end of it?”

Zhongli scoffed and closed his eyes. Hu Tao’s sense of humour never failed to make him feel exasperated, but it was almost a nice contrast at this moment. He listened to the director’s chatting as he collected his thoughts, while using a part of his attention to give her short answers to keep her satisfied with his involvement.

It wasn’t fear of death that had made him lose his cool back there. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly had made him feel so afraid. Was it just because of Morax? He wondered why he felt the god’s absence so vividly now, compared to the other times last week the other had gone on excursions. Then again, Morax wasn’t trying to hide from him anymore: that might explain it. The deity was also still weaker, which might explain some lack of finesse.

Morax had promised him to always be there if he was in danger, reminding him that despite being elsewhere, he could always feel Zhongli’s immediate surroundings and state. Zhongli wished the opposite was true at the moment. It wasn’t just himself he was afraid for at the moment. Although he did not fear death per se, being with Hu Tao weekly having gouged that out of him years ago, the repercussions of what his death might mean and cause were not lost on him. And the thought of Morax’s death was genuinely chilling. And his imagination wasn’t quite enough to supply him with a good idea what might be needed for it to come to that, which was unsettling to say the least.

“As long as I am with you, I cannot die.”

That’s what he had told him. But what counted as “with him”. Was Morax still with him at this moment? Was that… beacon something their enemies had triggered upon stumbling into Morax’s trap or was it a flame to lure out the moth?

“Well, anyway,” Hu Tao said after finishing her latest quip. “We should get back to the Parlor.”

Zhongli looked up, confused. “Didn’t you say you still had two stores to visit?”

“Aiya, look outside.” Hu Tao shrugged and snaked her way into holding his hand to pry them off of each other and pull him up. “Does this look like a good atmosphere to do promotion? The owner of this place is also outside, talking with people. See her over there? I’ll come back another day.”

She pulled him by the hand to follow her outside. Zhongli instinctively glanced up to the sky, but outside the edges of the circle in the clouds, now somewhat shredded by winds, nothing was out of the ordinary. Zhongli wasn’t sure if that made him feel much better. He felt that if he had something concrete to think about, it might have been easier to stay calm about everything. But his initial terror had passed and he was able to think rationally again, even if he didn’t know much.

Hu Tao kept bothering him for the rest of the afternoon and early evening that Zhongli used to catch up with more paperwork, bringing over some of her own work and a pot of tea for them to enjoy while taking over the other, smaller table in his office. Zhongli supposed it was her way of supporting and caring for him, despite the fact that she was interrupting his work. He felt he should have been more thankful for her presence than he found himself to be, but he disliked the thought of making her worry. And the fact that this was becoming a regular occurrence made him hate himself. She had seen him in a distressed state too many times these past two weeks. He wanted to tell her that he was fine, but she would have simply dismissed him by saying she didn’t know what he was talking about. Zhongli was supposed to keep up the pretence of his normal life while Morax searched for his adversaries and he wasn’t doing a good job of it. The thought of doing a subpar job when asked of you by a god was unpleasant. Zhongli couldn’t help but feel that he was letting both Hu Tao and Morax down.

His shoulders shuddered when he felt Morax’s presence return to him as the sun had almost set and he was packing up for the day. His immediate worried questions were shot down by a feeling of tranquillity that soothed his nerves. After the initial bewilderment for the sudden change in how he felt, Zhongli was reminded of the explanation Morax had given him once about how their souls reacted to one another. How Morax had relaxed against his shoulder when he had been exhausted and Zhongli wanted him to rest. Like telling yourself that everything was fine, except that the other was doing it for you. Was that what his distress was about? Was he getting flustered because a bandage had been ripped off harshly from the top of his nerves? That made him feel like a flustered child. He truly needed to step up his game to be of any use.

Still, Morax was alright, thank the gods. Was it alright to thank the gods in this case? Zhongli wanted to go ask him about the light and what had happened after, but refrained unless Morax called for him. Besides, he still had one thing he needed to do today.

Which had brought him to the Northland Bank. Although business hours were over, the guard outside knew him to be an associate of Childe and did not stop him from entering. Ekaterina was slightly reluctant to tell him where Childe was but Zhongli eventually got the information he needed and headed back out and down the main staircase towards the docks. Judging by how Ekaterina had acted, Zhongli was guessing that whatever this ship was that was preparing to leave for Snezhnaya, it would carry a harbinger as it left. Weirdly, that made him feel unsettled. One would think one less Fatui harbinger in Liyue was a good thing, but… he could not shake the feeling of dread.

Childe was speaking with one his aides on a dock next to a Snezhnayan ship that was getting ready to set sail. The harbour was painted orange and blue by the last lights of the setting sun. Zhongli ignored the stares he got from the Fatui agents nearby as he approached. The aide pointed him out to the harbinger before he got too close.

“Childe,” Zhongli greeted as the other man came to him. He glanced at the ship next to them. “I heard from Ekaterina that this is where I could find you if I was lucky. I see I might have caught you at a bad time?”

“Yes, in fact,” Childe said matter-of-factly. “Did you have something important to say? I’ll hear you out if you make it quick, but I will board the ship when it leaves, just so you know.”

I knew it… Zhongli’s gaze wandered around the other Fatui working about. “Is it a mission that calls you so suddenly?”

“Comrade, you know I cannot tell you such details,” Childe reminded him with a shrug. “I must return to Snezhnaya for now on official business, but that is all I can tell you.”

Zhongli tried to think. If Childe was unwilling to talk, that would complicate things. The harbinger seemed a bit tensed, which didn’t bode well. Under normal circumstances, Zhongli would have given up on trying to pry into the workings of the Fatui but there was a strong denial to that notion that surged inside him before he could nod. Are you certain, Morax? This was the Fatui. Not the most trustworthy organization in Teyvat to share secrets with. This was important to Morax of course, but how could Zhongli convince Childe to believe that too was another story.

“So, was there somethi—"

“Would you be willing to exchange some information for a prize instead?” Zhongli interrupted and he saw the look in Childe’s eyes change.

The harbinger was quiet for a beat, before he crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Zhongli a calculating look. “I’m sorry: what?”

Zhongli tried to look casual. “Can I ask for moment of your time in private? I have something to discuss with you. Business, if you will.”

“Okay, now I’m confused,” Childe admitted and shook his head. “Not that I mind spending time with you, of course, but where is this going? But well, if it is a business matter you wish to talk about, we can move to… say, my cabin aboard the ship.”

Zhongli glanced at the foreign vessel getting ready to sail. He was hoping Morax knew what he was doing, because his sense of self-preservation was telling him to not board the ship. “Very well.”

Childe actually seemed a bit surprised he agreed, but said nothing, turning around to lead him onboard. He told his subordinates to not set sail without his permission and to not let anyone near his cabin for now, before showing Zhongli the way below the deck. Childe’s room was grand, certainly fit a for a harbinger, even for what appeared to have been arranged on a short notice.

Childe strode to the desk bolted to the floor by the window and sat down on the edge of it, crossing his arms again. Zhongli stayed by the door, leaving a good distance between them as Childe started talking. “You certainly know how to grab my intrigue. I wouldn’t have expected someone like you to try and pry into mission directives for the harbingers. You realise there are… consequences to such things?”

“Of course. That is why I do not wish to pry, but trade.” Zhongli was trying to think how to proceed. He understood what Morax wanted him to do, but doing it without revealing his identity would not be simple. And Childe was not the first person he wanted to know about it anyway. He couldn’t actually name a person he wanted to tell, but it wasn’t Childe.

“An exchange of information,” Childe clarified as Zhongli said nothing, tasting the words. “I hope you understand that a history lecture about a dish you had for lunch cannot be exchanged for classified information?”

Zhongli nodded. “I understand that.”

“Oh-ho, so what do you have to offer?”

Zhongli thought for a second longer, remaining as firmly still as possible to hide his uncertainty underneath. “Would the current whereabouts of the Geo Archon interest you for instance?” He could only hope Morax would stop him from saying too much. There wasn’t much he could do if Childe decided to sell information forward somewhere. He had no idea why Morax held such confidence that Childe wouldn’t, when Zhongli definitely didn’t and he was supposed to be the one who knew the harbinger beforehand. Did Morax have a good relationship with the Cryo Archon?

Childe’s eyes thinned slightly and he leant to the table behind him. His eyes were scrutinizing every inch of the man before him, trying to ascertain his goals and motives but coming up empty.

Zhongli hurried to continue. “Since I am the one suggesting a trade, how about you agree to a contract of sorts? I will share what information I can with you. As we go on, you can decide how big of a prize in exchange those pieces would cover. All I ask, on the basis of fairness, that there will be something you will share with me regardless, so I won’t end up giving up my information for free. What say you?”

“You’d be giving me the right to choose how valuable the information you give me is then?” Childe asked. He seemed to slightly relax and looked less ready to pull out his bow. Although in Childe’s case, that was never a faraway option anyway. “Am I allowed to ask questions?”

“Of course. If you allow me the same.”

“And if the information is of no interest to me?”

“Then you may deliver it to the Cryo Archon for her to judge its value.”

That caused Childe to fall silent. Zhongli hoped adding the Tsaritsa into the conversation would hint Childe a bit about the importance of things they needed to talk about. He was thinking on it, Zhongli could see.

After a long moment in silence, Childe nodded. “This should be good.”

.

Zhongli wasn’t certain what he had expected and had those expectation been met or exceeded as he walked towards his apartment after leaving the docks. In a way, he felt relieved, in the other, the sense of dread had only been strengthened.

“Why would you know about this?” Childe had asked him almost as soon as they had started.

Zhongli had closed his eyes for a second. “Due to my participation in the preparations of the Rite of Parting, I might have become privy to some details hidden from the general public.”

Childe had not looked like he completely believed him but had kept his tone jovial. “Go on.”

If Childe suspected him to be the next Rex Lapis, he had hidden it well. Not revealing that at least was going according to plan. The harbinger seemed to have grasped on quickly that whatever information was being shared, didn’t belong to the ears of his subordinates. Zhongli had no doubt the other harbingers were a different story and he did not know them well enough to judge what that meant in the long run.

He glanced at the millelith patrolling the streets. The incident earlier today was the talk of the town, with many speculations as to what the light in the sky could have been. But the millelith seemed as calm as ever and that together with Morax’s quietness on the matter, made Zhongli feel more at ease about the immediate situation.  But his conversation with Childe had added a little more depth to his understanding of things. Enough to settle a steady determination to his stomach that he needed to grit his teeth and pull through. For the sake of both Liyue and Morax.

Childe had tapped his arm, evaluating the prize of the information. “Before I respond, answer me this: what do you want to know? I am not quite certain I am clear on that yet.

“Surely you’ve realised the world in many regions is in great turmoil?” Zhongli had affirmed, trying to keep the tone of the conversation light. “How about you tell me, what has happened in Snezhnaya to warrant an urgent recalling of a harbinger?”

Childe had stood up from his spot and walked around the table to watch out of the window. They had been quiet for a moment, until he finally spoke. “One of the harbingers has died.”

The fires of Sumeru. The storms of Mondstadt. The seclusion of Inazuma.

The mystery surrounding the murder of Rex Lapis and the disappearance of the God of Contracts from the lives of his people.

If something had happened in Fontaine or Natlan, was still to be seen.

Childe had breached his personal space with a vicious gleam in his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, mister Zhongli. Those are not little secrets you’re asking of me.”

“Nor are the ones I’ve given you,” Zhongli had countered and tried to reason with the man who was leaning an inch away from his face. “Surely you agree that we’re not in opposing sides on this?”

Water had condensed in the air around Childe’s hand. A hydro blade was brought between them, the edge carefully pointed towards the ceiling. “How about I take you with me to Snezhnaya? You could meet with the Tsaritsa yourself. I’m sure you’d like her.”

Zhongli shook his head as he reached his apartment to clear his mind. He needed to use his evening wisely. Time was of the essence. He could manage with little sleep with Morax’s help, so a light evening meal and a good session of practice in the control of geo needed his full focus.

As soon as his hand touched the door handle, however, he froze.

“Look, I like you enough to grab a meal outside of business hours, but that doesn’t mean I trust you. Don’t take it personally, it is part of the job,” Childe had added to his threat.

Zhongli had kept his expression unwavering to the best of his ability, wondering what Morax would do if Childe decided to take matters into his own hands. He had kept his eyes on Childe, refusing to look down at the blade of water inching up his chest towards the throat. “Are you certain the true situation of Liyue will not interest your god at a time like this?”

Childe’s expression had twitched and he huffed. “I do not pretend to know her will by heart.” He had retracted his blade anyway and stepped back. “I hope you realise it is my head on the chopping block if it does not in fact interest her and I give out classified information. I wish you would consider my perspective, comrade.”

Zhongli felt Morax become alert as well as he walked into his apartment. He left the door ajar, just in case, as he summoned his spear and tried to get a sense of his surroundings. He stopped as he reached his living room. The curtains were still pulled over the window after his talk with Xiao earlier that day, leaving little light to see around, but he refrained from going to light up his lamp. He was alone. There was no one here.

But something wasn’t right.

“Sounds like the Geo Archon is quite a bit more cautious than I would have expected from the guy.”

Zhongli had looked at Childe from the corner of his eyes. “Your verdict?”

“I do not understand why you would come here to lie to me about this, so I am going to believe you,” Childe had replied, but huffed a little in amusement as he leant closer again to whisper. “But if I’ll find out that you lied to me, you might want to start sniffing your tea extra carefully before taking a sip.”

“Thank you for the warning.” Zhongli had closed his eyes and wondered what type of poison would be needed to kill him at the moment. He knew Morax’s presence gave him some resistance to physical ailments, but he did not know the extent of it.

Zhongli’s vision glimmered to life as he called forth his elemental sight. A pulse of energy revealed to him the dark edges and corners of the room. Everything untouched by elemental forces was delivered to his retina in dull shades of grey.

Which is why the streaks of colour that danced in his vision made him draw a deep breath and clutch his fingers around his spear.

Red.

Blue.

The touch of green that would have been left behind by Xiao was nowhere to be seen. These were new. Fresh. Something that hadn’t been here only a few hours ago. Traces of both pyro and hydro energy played against the grey background, one closer to the kitchen door, one by the screen that separated his bed from the rest of the small apartment.

Someone had been here. He hadn’t noticed any evidence of breaking in at the door. Only the heightened awareness he had on his surroundings because of Morax had once again told him that something was not right. Nothing inside seemed to be ransacked or out of place either. Zhongli checked the kitchen and behind the folding screen just in case, but the result was the same. Nothing was missing and neither of the windows had been opened either.

Zhongli tried to quell the rising uncertainty with rational thought. Someone had been to his home, while he had been away for the evening. It could have only happened within the few hours between his talk with Xiao and now. Who had it been and what did they want? With multiple elemental traces in place, it was most likely more than one person. Had he been found out? Had his and Xiao’s interaction earlier not been discreet enough or was there something else? Had the light from earlier today something to do with this?

Zhongli dismissed his spear and stood in the middle of his apartment, trying to decide what to do. Should he pretend he didn’t notice something was off? Was it safe for him to stay here? Should he seek the protection of the adepti, just in case?

Thinking back to the words Childe had whispered to his ear only a little while ago made him shiver.

“Someone tried to attack the Tsaritsa. A hopeless attempt, but one of my comrades who came to her protection was killed in the process. But it isn’t just her funeral I will attend to back home. Mark my words, the Fatui will find the one who dared to point their weapon at Her Majesty.”

Whatever it was that he had gotten involved with, it was creeping closer. And closer.

Leaving his apartment behind, Zhongli stopped the first millelith guard he came across and told him of the suspected break in to his home. Even as he explained it, he knew the millelith could do very little and there was next to no evidence to go off of. Nothing had been broken or stolen and the only proof he had were traces of elemental energy only a vision user could detect. It was nevertheless good to at least warn the millelith that there may be someone going about to keep an eye out for. It was also a fairly normal reaction after realising a potential crime.

Zhongli explained patiently to the millelith guard who came to investigate his apartment with him of what he saw and where the elemental traces were. The soldier was amicable and took him seriously despite not being able to sense anything himself, promising that they would keep an eye out for any potential suspicious individuals and ask around if anyone had seen anything. He was also firm in assuring Zhongli that he was sure there was nothing to worry about and that he could rest assured that he would be safe in his own home.

At the request from Morax, however, Zhongli went to the Funeral Parlor for the night. The Ferrylady believed him when he explained his concerns for sleeping at home and why this was not a reason for her to call for Hu Tao again because he was being a workaholic. It wasn’t the first time Zhongli would spend his night at the Parlor. There were more than few instances of him waiting for Hu Tao to show up from her expeditions or when there simply was a big project to do. This time, he did not intend to work, however. He could not practice his control of geo here, just to be safe, so he brewed himself a pot of relaxing tea and sat on a couch in one of the less used rooms for receiving relatives of their clients. Unless there was an appointment he wasn’t aware of early in the morning, no one should be bothering him here until it was time for him to go to work again.

He spent an hour or so in silence, drinking the tea while his thoughts wandered. Morax left him again for a moment after Zhongli had settled, but there was no sense of danger or hurry this time as he left. The night outside was serene: no intruders, unnatural lights or chills to be felt in his senses. Zhongli allowed himself to relax and enjoy the aroma of the warm tea. When the clock on the wall ticked to midnight and the teapot had gone cold and empty, he laid down on the couch and after a deep breath, closed his eyes. Doing as he had learnt, he chased the traces of power that kept him aware to the side and after a few tries, drifted into sleep.

But only a moment of quiet later, the pressure of the pillow under his head was replaced with grass and a gentle breeze licked his cheek.

Zhongli snapped his eyes back open and stared into the blue sky. After a few seconds to gather what was going, he sighed. Where was he this time?

Slowly he sat up to look around, instantly to realise that wherever he was, it was not in Liyue. The trees and the pieces of ruined architecture he could see belonged to Mondstadt. As he looked over his shoulder, Zhongli gasped a little upon seeing the gigantic tree that rose behind him to the sky, its branches rustling quietly in the wind.

A sound of a harp brought his attention to the figure sitting on top of a piece of a broken pillar. Slender fingers were plucking on the strings, not playing anything in particular, but letting pleasant tunes carry in the wind. Before Zhongli could determine if this was another case like those people in the city or the people who had sat under the tree that would pay him no mind, the sitting figure hopped down from the pillar. ‘Down’ was perhaps the wrong term to use as a whirlwind caught the young man and carried him back up into the air.

Zhongli gasped, both at the realisation that the young man was flying straight towards him as well as the sudden weight that crashed against his head and chest. It wasn’t as violent or unpleasant as it had been on some occasions, but had him dig his nails into the dirt to keep himself sitting upright. His eyes fell from the flying man before he could reach him and Zhongli’s muscles fought against the invisible strain that grew stronger the closer the man got to him.

“Hey!” the man greeted him as he reached Zhongli, seeming oblivious to his struggle. “Are you—"

With a strong gust of wind, a white fog spread around them before the man could finish his sentence and Zhongli let out a breath of relief as the pressure was lifted off his shoulders. He looked up now that he could and saw Morax holding the smaller man up by the jaw in front of him.

“Be mindful of what you do, bard,” Morax growled with a low voice and pulled the other’s face close to his. “I’ll grow a new mountain into the middle of Cider Lake if you harm my vessel.”

“Oh, so he is your newest pal,” the young man with gradient hair replied, unconcerned about the hand that was clutching his face, the winds still carrying his weight. “Why is he here?”

Morax scoffed and let go of the other man, crossing his arms. “The question is, why are you here, Barbatos?”

The bard massaged his jaw and shrugged. “Didn’t you tell me to keep dreaming? That sounded like a clear invitation to me.”

Morax grunted, exasperated, and slapped his palm on his forehead, rubbing his fingers through his hair. “I meant for you to dream so that I could come to you. Not that you would barge in here. Did I not make it clear enough for you that there is a need to be careful, or are you still half asleep? Or drunk? Or possible just dafter than I remember? Imagine my surprise when I went out to find your dream and it ended up bringing me back where I left. I expected you to be close by enough to not have both of us found, not literally where I started.”

Zhongli listened to them argue about some dream involved business, but could only concentrate on the basics of it. He was too stuck on the name ‘Barbatos’.

“I didn’t know he would show up here,” Barbatos tried to defend himself from Morax’s disdain. “Why did he, if you could enlighten me?”

“Because you left the door open,” Morax replied like that explained everything.

“Wait, really?” Barbatos was surprised and looked down at Zhongli. “Is he that in tune with you?” The God of Freedom crouched down in front of Zhongli who was still sitting in the ground and gave him a bright smile. “Aww, blockhead, you have a new friend to hang out with. Isn’t this the first time since that one lady what-was-her-name-again some centuries ago? Maybe practice your small talk skills now that you have chance?”

“Mind your own business,” Morax grumbled and pulled his fellow god up by the collar, glancing down at Zhongli. “I’m sorry. Pay him no mind.”

Zhongli closed his eyes and tried to not argue aloud how hard that request was.

“Oh come on, Morax, at least let me say hi properly;” Barbatos said and shook his head at the awfulness of the manners at display. “Isn’t this a good opportunity for me to pay respects to the newest caretaker of my dear senile friend?”

“I’ll show you exactly how senile I am if you waste more time here,” Morax warned his colleague with a shining glare, which made Zhongli wonder if he himself looked even half as threatening when he did that, even though the eyes were the same. “I don’t want you loitering around Liyue until I’ve found the people who want me dead.”

“Aww, blockhead, you do care,” Barbatos cooed, unaffected by the glare.

Before Morax could remark anything in response, Zhongli cleared his throat. “Should I leave? It sounds like I ended up here by accident again.” He tried to sit up straight as the two arguing gods turned to look at him.

Morax tilted his head. “You want to know more about what is going on too, don’t you?”

Zhongli frowned. “Well yes, but…”

“As long as the veil is up, there should be no harm to it, now that Barbatos is already here,” the God of Contracts explained, missing the core reason why Zhongli didn’t feel like he belonged here. “He seems to be hiding his presence here adequately enough to grant us some time. I will wake you up immediately if I sense an attempt to track us or approach you.” As if to emphasize his opinion on the matter, Morax sat down to the grass. With a slight glow and movement of his hand, a round stone slate rose from the ground to form a makeshift table.

The fog around them didn’t make for a nice view but it was clear enough to tell that the sun was still shining beyond it. The gently winds were blowing undisturbed, making the mist swirl. Barbatos flopped down as well and whined about the lack of courtesy towards guests until Morax gave in with a grumble and summoned a bottle of wine and three cups from who knows where. Zhongli decided not to argue against staying and used the time Morax took to pour them drinks to internalize that he was having a picnic with two gods inside a foggy dream version of Mondstadt. He was definitely still sane, right? He wished Morax would stop acting like this was the natural progression of things...

Zhongli took up the low stone cup to mimic the other two by the table, but his hand froze before he could take a sip when Barbatos spoke.

“So,” the Anemo Archon said, with a less jovial tone than before, but still somehow made it sound light-hearted. “There’s only six of us now then?”

Morax whirled the wine in his cup in silence for a moment. “I’m not buying it without evidence. When I’m able, I will connect with the Irmunsul to search for Rukkhadevata’s consciousness. That should give us definite answers.”

“Do you think the body is gone but the soul might remain then?”

“It is possible,” Morax muttered and took a sip of the wine. “How do you fare, old friend?”

“Me? Dvalin took more of a beating than I did,” Barbatos said with a sigh. “But my people helped me get through to him and free his mind, in the end.” Downing his cup with one gulp and grabbing the bottle for more, he looked at Morax with a pointed gaze. “We got some outside help. Teyvat has received a few visitors.”

“Teyvat?” Morax looked back at him and squinted. “From Celestia?”

Barbatos shook his head. “Beyond Celestia.”

Morax fell silent, simply staring at his fellow god. Zhongli did not know what they were talking about and did not dare to ask.

A little clack broke the silence around the table when Morax set down his wine. “Why?”

Barbatos shook his head. “I don’t know. But they seemed like nice people though,” he told them, a hint of happiness returning to his voice. “There’s two of them, brother and sister. It seems there was an accident of some kind that hinders their abilities until they get used to how things work around here, but they’re pretty strong. Interesting too. They might be coming here too after things settle down in Mondstadt. They made quite a few friends in the city and have been helping out.”

Morax stared at the wine in his cup and hummed in thought, before he raised it again to drink. “It’s good to hear things are settling on your end,” he said, changing the subject away from these visitors. "Did you figure out who was behind it? Did they not attack you directly then?”

Barbatos grimaced and poured himself a third glass. “They did… After Dvalin was saved and everyone was tired, I was trapped in ice, along with many of my people and one of the travellers. It was a spell designed to trap me, probably to render me defenceless. I could not have escaped without outside help.” He shook his head, like he was remembering something unpleasant. “But other one of the travellers escaped the spell and managed to loosen it just enough for us to struggle ourselves free before it could devour us. Still, it took all of us to break free from it entirely.”

Morax’s eyes were trained on the bard as he spoke. “Did you notice who triggered the spell?”

Barbatos sighed. “No. Nor do I know what they intended to do after we were trapped.”

Morax grunted and resumed staring at his wine in thought while taking a few sips here and there. Barbatos heaved out heavily and leant back against his hand, staring up into the sky almost hidden behind the white veil. Little winds started twisting the veil wherever his eyes looked.

Zhongli had only managed to grasp the basics of the conversation. There were unknown concepts to him being thrown around, and this was the first time he was learning more details of the situation in Mondstadt. But he managed to piece together most things he had heard. It sounded like whatever plan had been set for Mondstadt had been thwarted. If so, it made sense Morax would want the Anemo Archon, who had just escaped danger, to stay out of Liyue until the situation here had been sorted out.

Zhongli finally took a sip of his wine. He didn’t recognize it, but the taste reminded him of a tea he had once drank. With the help of the drink, he gathered his courage to speak.

“Lord Barbatos,” he started, politely. “Do you know anything of what is going in other nations?”

“Hey,” Morax said and frowned at him. “If I don’t want you to call me ‘lord’, I certainly don’t want to hear you call him that.”

The Anemo Archon laughed. “Call me Venti. That’s what I go by with the people these days. And don’t worry about formalities, like the blockhead said. We’re all friends here,” he assured with a bright grin that made Zhongli almost believe his words without reservation. “But to answer your question: not much. Winds told me of the smoke in Sumeru a little before I heard the news from there. When I came here, I learnt about the wall Baal cast around Inazuma from the adepti.”

“Someone tried to attack the Tsaritsa,” Morax reported to share the information they had gotten a few hours ago. “She lost one of her followers in the attempt but is unharmed. We’ve also hinted to the adepti to check in on things in Natlan and Fontaine.” He gripped the cup in his hand and his face scrunched up. He looked mad at himself again. “It’d be so much faster if I could go there myself.”

“You stay nice and cosy here, old pal, at least until we know what we’re up against,” Venti said and reached over to pat Morax’s hand.

Morax frowned at him. “I know. Not we. You are going back to Mondstadt and stay with your people. Preferably out of sight.”

“You worry too much: I can take care of myself now that I am on high alert. How about you concentrate on taking care of yourself and your new friend, Morax? I can tell you are not at 100%, no matter how well you think you can hide it.”

“I’m quite fine, thank you. Concern yourself with something else.”

“Morax,” Zhongli interrupted, remembering to ask. “The light today. What was it? Did you… figure something out?”

Morax poured himself another cup of wine, momentarily frowning on how little of it was left considering this was his second and Zhongli’s first cup. Then his attention returned to the discussion. “It was a beacon of sorts. A signal, communicating to those who knew what to listen for. But it was a language I have not heard before.”

“Wait, even you?” Venti was a little shocked. “When I realised I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, my hope immediately was that at least you would.”

Morax shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. But I have identified it enough to detect it in more subtle environments now. The light itself was a mere distraction. The most important part was the sounds. What I don’t understand is why they would deliberately stand out like that to all of Liyue. There is also abyssal energy at the edges of the city. It seems our enemy is preparing their next move.”

“When do you think they will strike?” Zhongli asked, inwardly bracing himself for a coming storm. “And what do you want me to do in the meantime?”

Morax’s eyes were patient. “You delivered our instructions to the adepti today. If all goes well, we’ll be set to respond accordingly once they make their move. Unfortunately, we don’t know what they’re planning, so we must remain cautious. We need more information still. It is impossible to strike first for now, as much as I wish we could finish this swiftly. It could only make things worse. And there is a chance they’re on your trail now.” Morax exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. “We continue according to the plan. But stay vigilant. It seems Barbatos countered their ploy, but after today, I am fully convinced they do not intend to give up on their plans for me without a fight.”

Barbatos smiled. “Unlucky for them that you’re not the type to give up without a fight either, right.”

“No,” Morax admitted and took a sip of his wine. “No, I am not.”

Chapter Text

After Morax eventually shooed him out of the dream to have a moment of proper sleep before a new day, Zhongli woke up to the morning sunlight much calmer and more refreshed than the day before. He knew the two archons had continued their discussions after he had left but decided it was not his place to pry unless Morax thought it necessary. So, despite his slight curiosity, he walked his non-existent commute down a few halls to his office and started his day, only stopping by the employee kitchen to have a quick snack that barely counted as a breakfast. They needed to restock some basic necessities… In a profession where all-nighters were sudden and, thanks to Hu Tao, frequent, a balanced diet within an arm’s reach was essential.

Meeting the Ferrylady as she left her shift to go home, he learnt that Hu Tao had had a long night doing her usual ghost involved business and would sleep late. Which meant that Zhongli had a good three or so hours of time to do paperwork in peace before she’d show up for the day. And since Morax did not have any pressing tasks for him at the moment either, that was exactly what Zhongli intended to do. He was still firmly on the mindset that whoever would eventually take his place, deserved to start from a clean desk. Not that Zhongli usually was the type who had work piled up, but his three-day absence and the preceding week organizing the Rite of Parting had left their mark.

He finished his lecture plans and the remaining paperwork for the Rite before a scheduled meeting with a client later that morning. Noticing he had a free moment, Zhongli pulled out an empty sheet and scribbled down the needed words after taking a steadying breath.

A letter of resignation.

The first few sentences were easy. Formal announcements like this had a code to adhere to and mostly started the same, with only changes to some keywords. But it only took Zhongli as far as the reasons for his request to officially resign where his pen stopped. He had thought about this part more often than he would have liked and it still wasn’t any easier. When he’d hand the letter to the director later, would he by then be free to tell her the truth? Or should he in fact wait before even giving her the letter? Lying to Hu Tao left a bad taste in Zhongli’s mouth. However, the idea of getting her involved felt worse.

Zhongli sighed and put down his pen. Knowing the director, she would probably think of the whole letter a prank if he told her the truth. He saw in his mind’s eye how her expression changed as she gradually realised he wasn’t joking. Zhongli ran a hand through his hair and pushed the paper aside, standing up. If he left for his client meeting now, he could stop by Third Round Knockout for a proper breakfast. Although the meeting did involve a meal later on, it was going to be a long one.

As per usual, the god with him showed no mercy for him in the matter of the letter. He could feel Morax raising his eyebrows at him but Zhongli ignored it and left his office behind. Staring at the draft letter in confusion would get him nowhere. Yes. Yes, this was a good plan.

Who am I kidding? Zhongli thought to himself as he walked along Liyue Harbor’s streets. Since when have I become the type to run away from things that need to get done? He was learning new things about himself daily these days. And he didn’t appreciate most of the things he was realising.

He could only stomach a light breakfast that day.

His client meeting later was with a noble family who had some disagreements amongst themselves about the funeral of their matriarch. He was needed to offer a professional opinion and advice for both the arguing sides to help them come to a final conclusion. Since the client’s wishes revolved around some overlapping traditions and unclear instructions (because of an accident on the scrolls that had stored the information), Hu Tao had assigned Zhongli on the case. She had quite proudly promised that her walking encyclopaedia would be able to recite any of the traditions they were worried about from memory. Zhongli did not exactly disagree with her on this, but he nevertheless wished the director would be less boisterous about it.

Thanks to his lack of appetite, by the time Zhongli was walking towards the Liuli Pavilion for the appointment, he still had a plenty of time. Had he been in a hurry, he might have dismissed the hustle in front of the Feiyun Commerce Guild main office and continued along. It was seeing the millelith among the usual employees that had him slow down his steps. He wasn’t within proper earshot, but Morax’s senses were sharper than human’s and easily picked up the conversation he wanted from among the noise of the streets.

“Money is no excuse when human lives are at stake,” the young master of the Feiyun Commerce Guild spoke to his subordinates and the millelith gathered by the stairs. “Surely you do not expect me to worry about something like that during such grim times? Consider any expenses you need covered. Spare no manpower or resources,” he ordered with a voice that expected no arguments and pointed at the direction his people were to take their leave. “I will join you personally as soon as I’ve given the millelith a detailed report.”

“Young master Xingqiu, I must urge you to refrain from going out yourself,” one of the servants stepped forth while the others bowed. “We must take extra precautions regarding the safety of yourself and the rest of the family for the time being.”

Xingqiu dismissed his concern without a second thought. “If you expect me to sit by and watch the rest of you do the work, you are grossly mistaken. My brother has a firm handle on the Guild’s management for the time being, thus it is my duty to aid with the search. You will not stop me from giving this everything I’ve got.”

“Still, you should be careful until we know more,” a young man with a light blue hair spoke beside him next, catching the young master’s attention. Zhongli knew this young man to be from a family of exorcists and an accomplished one himself. “I will set out to look for some clues. Wait until I get back before you charge into the wild on your own. Okay?”

Xingqiu appeared reluctant but nodded. “Oh, alright. I shall trust you on this, my dearest friend. But make haste, for chivalry cannot long be quelled.”

The employees and servants of the Feiyun Commerce Guild left to do their tasks, while the young master invited the millelith sergeant inside to talk. Zhongli’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as the scene dispersed in various direction. When an icy blue head of hair hurried past him on its way to leave the city, Zhongli reached out to stop the young exorcist.

The young man stopped and turned around when a firm hand tapped on his shoulder to catch his attention. “Oh, I’m sorry sir. I am in a hurry. Did I get in your way?”

Zhongli shook his head. “No, nothing of the sort, do not worry. I simply overheard some worrying talk while passing by. I was hoping you might be able to enlighten me as to what has gotten the Feiyun Commerce Guild so worked up?”

“Oh…” the young man, whose name Morax supplied to him to be Chongyun (why did the god know that, Zhongli could only guess) , replied and hesitated for a second. “There was… an incident last night. Um…”

“Something to do with main family itself, judging by what I heard,” Zhongli helped him along, hoping the young exorcist would ease into talking with him at least a little.

“Yes,” Chongyun affirmed. “You… you wouldn’t have happened to see the guild master anywhere this morning, would you?” Zhongli raised his eyebrows and Chongyun sighed, continuing before he could reply. “I suppose that would have been too good to be true. See, Xingqiu’s father— er, that is, the guild master of Feiyun disappeared last night.”

“Disappeared?” Zhongli repeated and raised a hand to his chin to think. “May I ask how? Perhaps I could be of help and ask around.”

Chongyun nodded, thanking him for the offer and shared what he knew. “It was in quite the bizarre circumstances, I hear. The guild master was out meeting some business associates in Wangshu Inn and the meeting only finished when it was getting dark. He had many of his people with him, including some guards. He stepped into his litter when they left the inn and told them he needed to go through the documents they had gotten during the day so they shouldn’t disturb him. But when the ensemble got back and opened the curtains, he was… well: gone. No one noticed anything during their trip, but by morning he had simply vanished.”

Zhongli listened to the explanation with a frown. “Sounds like one of those magic tricks where someone climbs into a box only to appear in another. Except that there is no other box to appear from this time. How curious… And no one noticed anything strange during their travel here?”

“No.” Chongyun shook his head. “There was an instance the guards fended off some slimes who got too close, but it was only the little ones and apparently no problem.”

“They did not report that to the guild master?”

“No, there was no real danger, so they thought they needn’t disturb him.” Chongyun frowned. “I’m sorry. That is really all I know. I’m heading out to gather clues right now.”

“I see,” Zhongli said and nodded to him. “Good luck. I will keep my eyes and ears open in the case I hear anything.”

Chongyun edged towards the stairs, in a hurry to leave now. “Thank you, umm…”

“Zhongli.”

“Oh? From the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor? I’ve heard of you from Xiangling and Hu Tao. Well, in any case, thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” Chongyun said and bowed his head a little. “If you find out anything, you can report it to anyone working for the Guild and it should reach the right person.”

As soon as Zhongli agreed, Chongyun said goodbye and turned to leave. The young man didn’t get far down the stairs before he was stopped yet again.

“Be careful.”

Chongyun stopped and turned around enough to look properly over his shoulder at the consultant who was standing at the top of the stairs.

Zhongli closed his eyes for a moment to decipher the message Morax wanted him to deliver. “There have been some rumours of abyssal energy gathering in some places in the vicinity of the Harbor. It is not impossible that some outside party of that nature is involved with this incident as well. Keep your guard high.”

Chongyun took a few second to process and then his mouth pressed in to a tight line and he nodded. “Thank you. I’ll tell that to the others who are out searching as well.”

They parted ways. As he walked towards the Liuli Pavilion again, Zhongli’s thoughts were far from his work. What do you think, Morax?

The god too was deep in thought as they entered and were directed to the right room to wait for the people they were meant to meet. There was a possibility this incident was unrelated to their own problems, but the way the master of the Commerce Guild had seemingly vanished into thin air was a bit too peculiar to ignore.

Zhongli’s brow furrowed deeper yet and he kept adjusting and turning the teacup in his hand, as if to admire the art, when in reality he was using the artistic lines to focus. Morax had shared with him a fragment of a grim memory. The feeling of being pulled out of your seemingly safe place into the unknown and leaving nothing behind. Zhongli didn’t want to think about the possibility, but if it happened to be right, they had a problem.

If their enemies suspected someone else but him to be Rex Lapis…

“Ah, you’re our consultant, I presume? Good day to you. Have we made you wait for long?”

“Oh—” Zhongli was dragged out of his thoughts and back into the present situation he needed to uphold. He put down the empty teacup and hurried to stand up to respectfully greet the prestigious clients who had walked in. “Good day to you as well. Zhongli, of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. It is my pleasure to provide you my assistance today.”

It wasn’t an outrageous assumption. Certainly not if compared to someone like Zhongli himself. The master of the Feiyun Commerce guild was role model for many. Talented. Intelligent. A man with a keen business sense and strong values. He was charitable and kind, yet guided both his family and business with purpose. No one could deny the prestige or power the Feiyun Commerce Guild held in Liyue.

After concluding the client meeting, which went smoothly despite his distracted thoughts, Zhongli took a detour on his way back to the parlour. His destination was a little store on a side street, whose owner he knew to be a keen gambler and a fan of everything involving the high society. A gossiper, if you will. However, in this case, Zhongli was after a bit more factual information: the betting charts for the selection of the next Rex Lapis. Zhongli had not paid much attention to the betting game, although he had heard snippets about it as he had prepared the Rite.

People had submitted their guesses or betted on existing selections, trying to narrow down the public opinion: who was most likely to rise next to the position of the emperor. And perhaps win a little bit of money in the process. The games had lost some of their edge as the time had passed, but all the charts were still valid as getting your money back was not part of the deal once you had placed your bet. No one had thought the selection to be postponed like this after all.

Zhongli took the meticulously crafted chart from the old man, who was all too excited to have someone asking about it and was talking Zhongli’s ears off while he inspected the paper.

The Tianquan.

Lord Shu from the house of Mung.

Young Master of the Weng Liu house.

Lady Xie Li Foo.

The Tianshu.

The Yuheng.

Members of the Qixing and the nobility were leading the chart, as expected. Ah, yes. Here it was. The master of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. As he had expected. He read on.

Captain of the Crux Fleet. Still no surprise, considering her reputation especially among the sailors. Quite high on the charts still, considering.

Master Hangzhi from the printing industry.

Some more nobles who Zhongli did not know of.

The troupe master of the Yun-Han Opera Troupe.

Zhongli eyed the list down. The lower he got; the less votes were submitted to the candidates. There were prominent names from businesses, big names from the ship building and mining industries, some renowned artists and the rest of the Qixing were down there as well.

Reaching the end of the list where only a couple of votes were submitted per candidate, Zhongli suddenly froze and simply stared at the name that was undeniably there.

Hang on… I got votes?! Unbelievable… Why? Why would anyone think he would be a valid option? Zhongli was still unclear why the Lord of Geo himself thought that. Him? Above all these other candidates? Someone bet actual Mora that it would be him? This was absurd. Granted, it was just a few votes, but… Oh dear, Zhongli massaged his temples, while the owner of the chart was enjoying seeing his reaction on finding himself on the list. Someone else was also finding the realisation amusing. Morax, please stop laughing… These five people were about to win a lot of money.

Suddenly feeling tired, Zhongli cleared his throat and decided to not address his inclusion at the bottom of the chart, instead asking the excited old man beside him if he could have a copy of the paper. As soon as he had copied the names on the list down for reference, he thanked the old man and went back to the main street. He had wasted some time but he should still be—

“Zhongli!”

Oh bother…

“Good timing,” Hu Tao chirped cheerfully as she hopped close to where he had flinched into a stop at her shout. “So, you’re done with the client meeting I take it?”

Zhongli greeted his boss politely as he handed her the signed and completed agreement of the funeral arrangements, now void of any dissonance between relatives.

Hu Tao smirked. “I knew you could do it. Ah, that’s a relief. They were really stubborn about all of this correct traditional method business.”

“Quite,” Zhongli admitted. “But both sides had also realised that at this point an outside opinion was mandatory. Thus, they were willing to listen to me despite their bad blood. They were quite fed up with the argument themselves.”

“Ah, I don’t understand why they treat life so seriously. No one makes it out alive anyway. I heard some of the conflict actually had something to do with who would be the next family head and someone burnt the instruction scrolls on purpose instead of a candle just falling over. You know, to get back at someone, maybe, or to judge the reactions of all the candidates vying for the spot.”

“That is none of our concern, director.”

“I know right! What a relief. Mortal problems are so silly,” Hu Tao chatted and suddenly seemed to remember something. “Oh, that reminds me: did you finish the seminar plan? I’ll check it over.”

Zhongli nodded. “I finished it just this morning. I will bring it to your table as soon as I return.”

Hu Tao tapped him to the chest. “Oh, I can go get it myself. I’m heading back next.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrow. “So am I?”

“No, you’re not, you’re going to head to Wanmin Restaurant and get me a serving of steamed fish and prawn dumplings for lunch.”

Zhongli was suddenly hit with a sudden wave of disgust, which surprised him. He wasn’t a fan of the director’s favourite food, sure, but for some reason Morax seemed to utterly loathe this request.

“Aya, don’t look so eager now,” Hu Tao chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, and could you buy some tea? Some refreshing type, please.”

Shoving Morax’s nausea to the background, Zhongli agreed, adding that he would shop for some ingredients for the kitchen while he was at it. Instructing Hu Tao that she could find his lesson plan on his desk, he set out towards Wanmin Restaurant, stopping along the way to buy some cooking ingredients.

He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the warmth of the sun and the liveliness of the city around him as he did his chores. The folded-up paper with a list of names of people in potential danger burned in his pocket, but for the moment, these kinds of simple things that kept up his façade needed to get done. He wondered would he be even able to roam the streets like this when all of this was done. In that sense, this mundane shopping trip at Hu Tao’s whim suddenly felt like something he should cherish.

If he wanted to, he could have called for Morax to drop their act and reveal his identity to these people who now passed him by with a glance if even that, briefly apologising if they pumped into him at times. He could release the god’s power and see the shocked, perhaps fearful expressions on the faces of these people. They would avert their gazes if he turned to look at them, peeking at him when they thought he couldn’t see with whispers on their lips. He could call on the adepti and they would come; bow down and kneel around him. The millelith patrolling around the streets would stand in full attention awaiting his orders. The hubbub of the street would die down in anxious waiting for his every move and word.

Oh, how easy it would have been for his life to fall apart. Zhongli hurried along, leaving the scene a nobody, wondering for how much longer could he walk among these people without their eyes on his back and their heads lowered as he came close. The thought of that was so utterly foreign to him. If everything went as Morax wanted, soon Zhongli would turn from a person showing their respect in the presence of those more prestigious than him, to someone who was supposed to bow to no one. For now, he slipped unnoticed past the other customers, merchants and guards on the streets, leaving no impression of himself to their days. But by the next time they saw him, would that encounter turn into the talk of day and the next among friends and family?

“Hello, Mr. Zhongli!” Xiangling shouted a cheerful greeting, straightening up after the last swipe to clean the table she had been wiping. “Are you here for lunch?”

Zhongli shook his head. “Hello, miss Xiangling. Not for myself this time. I’m afraid I’ve eaten my fill in form of a business lunch. It would be a waste to sample your food with an already full stomach. I am here today on behalf of the director instead. Could I trouble you with her usual?”

“Sure,” Xiangling replied with a smile. “I’ll make it myself so you can grab it quicker: dad has a queue. I also came up with a new dipping sauce I’m sure Hu Tao will like with the prawns! I’ll add a serving of that.”

Zhongli thanked her as she hurried off into the kitchen happily. He was about to settle to stand in a spot where he wasn’t in the way of people to wait, but Guoba interrupted his lonesome contemplation with an eager jump to hug him by the waist and continued hopping around him until Xiangling called for her bear companion from the kitchen. Zhongli was reminded that he had never asked Morax about the bear like he had intended. It was a little pity that the god could not respond to him freely while hiding. It would have made things easier for them.

Just as Xiangling returned with a serving of a hot meal ready for delivery, a voice called out to her through the crowd passing by on the street and girl with a darker skin and spiky hair jogged to them, with a frown on her face.

“Hey Xiangling, er… sorry to interrupt your work and all,” she said with an accent as she stopped beside them.

Zhongli took the food from Xiangling’s hands as they turned to look at the eccentric young lady who had joined them. He knew well enough who this was, although they hadn’t met personally. Most people in Liyue had probably heard her voice at least.

“You got a minute?” Liyue’s resident rock musician asked before Xiangling could reply. “Have you seen Yun Jin around by any chance?”

Zhongli tensed, but it went unnoticed by the two girls.

“No, not in a few days I think,” Xiangling said and looked thoughtful, trying to remember. “I think she stopped by to grab a snack in secret to take between performances. I made a new one that really suits her diet better and she was super eager to try it out! But she’s been busy with work so I haven’t had the chance to ask her how she liked it.”

Xinyan looked disappointed and Xiangling enthusiasm died down a little when the other girl didn’t seem as chatty as usual. “You haven’t either? Aww, man, did she really get caught?” she wondered aloud, scratching her head.

Zhongli tried not react too strongly to her choice of words as he cleared his throat. “Get caught by whom, if I may ask?”

After a brief introduction from Xiangling to get the two of them acquainted with each other, Xinyan replied. “We agreed to meetup and hangout today. Yun Jin’s been super busy with the troupe work and all, but she had a half a day off today to relax before a performance late at night, so we agreed to have lunch together. That’s why I thought she might have come here. You know, if something turned up and she was busier than she expected and couldn’t wait for me. But I’ve been looking for her for over an hour and no one’s seen her.” The musician shook her head, sighing. “So, I thought maybe the people at the troupe got wind that we were about to meetup and didn’t let her go. They don’t really like me, so, I can’t really go asking them about it myself. Any chance you’re free, Xiangling?”

“I could talk to them for you,” Zhongli offered, trying to not show how the list of names in his pocket felt like it burnt through his clothes suddenly. “I have a few acquaintances among the Yun-Han Opera Troupe who I could talk to.”

“Would you?” Xinyan was surprised but it melted seamlessly into a sincere smile. “Aww, shucks, thanks so much. It would have bothered me for the rest of the day.”

“Think nothing of it,” Zhongli said and nodded Xiangling a goodbye. “Let’s make haste so my boss doesn’t die of hunger while waiting for my return.”

Xinyan insisted that he’d drop the food off first as they passed the Funeral Parlor on their way to the teahouse, where it was most likely they would find a member of the opera troupe. Zhongli was adamant to find out what had happened to Liyue’s most revered opera singer as soon as possible, but relented to take a detour enough to give Hu Tao’s lunch and his other purchases to a colleague of his outside the parlour. Then they immediately continued on towards the Heyu Teahouse. Zhongli wanted to be sure as soon as possible. Xinyan kept the conversation going and remained much more positive than her companion. Zhongli hid his worries the best he could to keep it that way: there was no reason to worry the young aspiring musician needlessly. It was natural for her not to worry too much. Her friend had only been missing for an hour and the possible explanations were plenty.

Xinyan’s expression only fell after Zhongli came back to her with the news he had gleaned from the troupe member he had found while she had waited outside.

Yun Jin had been gone since yesterday evening. After the night’s performance, she had left for her dressing room, but never arrived.

Surely, they… whoever they are, are not simply picking out everyone they suspect, just hoping to find the right one? Zhongli was deep in his thoughts as he made his way back to the Parlor. And surely, surely, they would not base such assumptions on a gambling chart?

This was bad. Even if these cases of people of note disappearing were unrelated by some chance still, they could not think of it as such. They had not planned for this possibility. If innocent people of Liyue were coming under fire for this… Well. Let’s just say Morax was furious. And with their souls connected, Zhongli was feeling the rising wrath of a god vividly. Once again, he felt like he was housing a dragon under his skin.

Zhongli could not deny how his stomach churned when thinking of the names on that list. It was too big of a coincidence that two of the people who had their names on the list had disappeared without a trace within a short time. They could not ignore the possibility, no matter what other options existed. Not knowing their opponent’s hand was something they could only prepare for by trying to have a response for anything they decided to do. Zhongli could tell that behind his seething, Morax was already making plans upon plans to respond to the situation. They also could not ignore the fact that Zhongli too had his name on the list, even if at the bottom of it.

“Is something the matter, Mr. Zhongli?” an undertaker asked as Zhongli marched through the foyer of the Parlor towards his office a tense expression on his face.

“Ah… well…” Zhongli fumbled on his words, cursing inwardly how Hu Tao was yet again being proven right about his lying capabilities as soon as he had to make one up on the spot. Luckily, this co-worker of his didn’t know him as well as the director did so there was hope it wasn’t as obvious. “I just learnt that a friend of mine is in trouble. I cannot help but worry…”

“Zhongli!” Hu Tao’s voice down the hall startled him a little and he turned around to look at the director who was standing at the end of the hall. Her voice sounded unusually authoritative. “Come to my office please.”

Saying that, the director turned on her heels and walked towards her room with a brisk stride, clearly expecting him to follow. Zhongli took a deep breath and did as she wished, trying to guess what the director wanted from him this time. He felt a little like a kid about to be disciplined by a teacher all of a sudden. Hu Tao didn’t usually bother about any given location when coming to speak with him. In fact, getting summoned to her office was quite rare, especially like this. He had no time for this either at the moment… Zhongli couldn’t help but feel restless as he stepped inside the director’s office. He had all but decided to drop off work early today to go check on some other people and perhaps gather some information around the Harbor again. But it sounded like Hu Tao had other plans for him.

“What can I do for you, director?” Zhongli asked as he closed the door behind him and walked a few steps in before stopping. Hu Tao was standing by her desk, her back to him. “Was the draft for the lecture not satisfactory?” If it was just that, he could deal with this.

“Oh, I didn’t read it yet,” Hu Tao replied without turning, but she moved restlessly, as if unsure where to keep her hands and on which foot to stand. “Been a little preoccupied.”

Zhongli frowned. Hu Tao sounded cheerful, but not in her usual way. This smile in her voice was… tense. Forced. That was not a good sign. It wasn’t easy to upset Hu Tao to the point where she’d let something like that slip. “It sounds like something worries you. Did something happen?”

“I was hoping you’d enlighten me on that,” Hu Tao replied and whirled around, leaning against the edge of the desk once she faced him. Zhongli tilted his head and opened his mouth to ask for a clarification, but Hu Tao had already raised a paper up for him to see. And upon seeing it, his blood froze. Hu Tao’s fingers were pinching on the edge of the paper that was a little crumbled, telling him that she had not been gentle handling it. “Zhongli, what is this?”

He could not deal with this.

Hu Tao bit her lip at the face of his silence and how he averted his gaze, and the draft letter of resignation rustled and wrinkled further under her fingers. “Zhongli, what is this?” she repeated, the false cheeriness now gone from her voice. It sounded like she really wanted to know. She really did not understand and was begging for an explanation from him.

Zhongli cowered a step away from the sound of her voice he could only hear as betrayal and clutched one arm over his abdomen, while the other hand flew up to cover his mouth, to fight back the feeling of nausea that threatened to rise. He had closed his eyes, not wanting to see the expression she currently wore. This was not how he had wanted this to happen. He was such a fool… He had left the letter on his desk. All Hu Tao would have had to do is glance over the papers looking for the ones she needed. Zhongli was not in the right mindset to deal with this. What even was the right mindset to deal with this? He felt like everything familiar was being forced out of him, leaving him in a space with no comfort.

Hu Tao shuddered when he still didn’t answer or meet her gaze and a small sound escaped her throat as she slammed the hand holding the paper to the edge of the table to push herself up from it. “Why? Zhongli, I don’t understand.” She walked across the room to him and pressed her palm against his chest, to force him to not turn further away from herself. “At least try to deny it! Say that… that you’re writing this for somebody else.” It had his name on it. There was no way he was writing it on behalf of someone else. “You’re good at explaining things. So, explain this to me. Zhongli, please. Tell me why?”

“I…” Zhongli stuttered out, hoarsely, but he wasn’t able to continue further than that. He had left the letter unfinished exactly because he did not know what to say. A few hours filled with other things hadn’t suddenly changed that.

Hu Tao grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand down from his face. “Zhongli… Zhongli, talk to me.” She didn’t sound like she knew what to say either. She must have had many questions, the answers for which had been postponed when her meal had been delivered to her by someone other than Zhongli himself. But the extra time that had granted to her had not been enough to draft answers on her own, only adding to her confusion instead. “If you’re unhappy about something, you could have just told me. We… we can work things out. Right?” She clutched her fingers around the palm she had pried off his face. “If this is about something I did—”

“No,” Zhongli stopped her from finishing the thought. That was the last thing he wanted her to think. “That’s… not…”

“Then why?!” Hu Tao asked again, her voice rising with her confused emotions. She did not know what to feel anymore, which in turn made her frustrated. “Why would you want to resign?! Zhongli, I don’t understand. Look, I’m sorry if my teasing went too far, but I—”

“No!” Zhongli stopped her again and forced himself to face her. “Hu Tao… this… It is not about you. And I’m not unhappy with my job. Far from it.”

Hu Tao took a deep breath and let go of his hand, stepping away. “Then what?” she asked, quietly. “Why then would you write this?”

Zhongli took a deep, shaking breath through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Decisions had to be made now. He had nowhere to run. “Do you…” No, it was stupid to ask, of course she would. “You remember around two weeks ago. About… About how I collapsed suddenly.”

Hu Tao flinched, almost too slightly to notice, but the rustle of the paper she had clutched inside her fist gave her away. She said nothing.

“I told you a while back…” Zhongli continued, slowly, carefully crafting each word from the scratch in his head before speaking out loud. “…that I had figured out why it happened.” He swallowed. He had to do this. “I’m afraid it is something I’m… stuck with.” He could not get her involved. Not now. “And it requires my attention.” She was not on the list. She could still stay safe. “Predominantly.”

Hu Tao, who had stayed still like a statue for a moment, now hugged her hands across her chest and her fingers dug into her arms. “…Is it something dangerous?”

Yes. “It… could be. But I have people who will help me with it.”

It was the director now who had let her head droop down and wasn’t meeting his gaze. When she made no comment for a painfully long moment, Zhongli straightened his posture and forced himself to come on top of the situation, or at least pretend he could.

“Director Hu,” he said, keeping his voice softer and more level. “Allow me to… formally inform you of my intention to resign from my position as a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Due to personal issues, I lack the time and commitment required to carry on with my tasks.” Seeing Hu Tao look so deflated before him like this was testing his composure. “I request your approval.”

Hu Tao’s fingers dug deeper into her arms. They stood there for a long while: Zhongli choosing to wait as long as she needed to respond. But when she finally mumbled something, he couldn’t make it out.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, inching slightly closer.

“Denied,” Hu Tao repeated aloud, stopping his approach. She sounded tired.

Zhongli was taken aback and blinked at her for a few seconds before a sigh escaped his lips. “Hu Tao…”

“Denied,” Hu Tao said for the third time and turned her back to him. “It’s not like that thing you have will take all your time, right.”

Zhongli groaned a little, closing his eyes tightly. She was not making this easier. “Hu Tao, it’s—”

“It’s not a big deal;” she interrupted him this time. Some cadence returned to her tone, but it was raspier than usual. “If you can’t give the job all your time, that’s fine. Just come by when you… have a moment.”

“That’s not—” Zhongli tried to argue but Hu Tao wasn’t giving him the space to speak.

“You could just come by to give a few lectures every now and then. Or I can come visit you to ask a few questions when things get complicated,” Hu Tao recounted options, her shoulders hunching further down as she went on. “You don’t need to be here all the time. Just… come when you have the chance. And do the work you can while you’re here.” This time Zhongli managed to only open his mouth before Hu Tao shut him up again. Her voice rose slightly. “Leave. I’ll give you a leave. You deal with that… thing you are stuck with… and come back here when you’re done. I know you can do it. I mean, you never fail anything.”

Now that actually stung a little. Zhongli exhaled, pressure still mounting in his chest and making him feel nauseous, although not as bad as before. Somehow, seeing Hu Tao struggle was giving him the little needed push to do better himself. “Director… I’m not certain I can return once—”

“Leave.”

Did she mean to repeat her decision or was this an order?

Zhongli weighed those options for a few seconds before he turned around and left without a word, leaving Hu Tao alone in her office.

He left for that day, feeling a pressing need for fresh air. Morax was understanding, but did not attempt to mend Zhongli’s inner turmoil. They had briefly discussed Zhongli’s resignation process, but the god had very little understanding on his reluctance to go ahead with it. It was a necessary procedure and it was not like Zhongli could never see his colleagues again, so Morax did not see a reason to stress about it so. Whether Zhongli liked it or not, it needed to be done.

And indeed, now it was done. And Zhongli felt like something akin to a wet cape was draped over his shoulders: dripping, dragging and holding him back uncomfortably every step he took. Morax was expecting him to shake that cape off on his own and stand up straight. Zhongli wasn’t sure if he appreciated the confidence that he could do so, or despised the god for his indifference.

He soon found himself sitting at a table at Third Round Knockout, drinking tea, or rather staring into his cup and taking sips when he remembered to.

The conversations of other people were his only distraction. They reminded him of why he had to keep his head up high and grit his teeth. From them he learnt of something of dire importance: something that had happened earlier during the day.

The adepti had declared their distrust for the Qixing, officially blaming them for having a hand in the murder of the previous emperor. The adepti had placed all members of the Qixing under watch and refused to acknowledge the Tianquan as the stand-in ruler in the absence of Rex Lapis.

And just like so, Liyue was divided.

Divided into those who believed the adepti to do no wrong and be the true voice of wisdom in the place of their god, and to those who refused to believe the Qixing would turn on their own country and have their hand in the murder plot against a god.

Order was crumbling.

With the adepti seemingly shifting their attention away from searching for the God of Contracts and his new vessel, instead focusing on looking for people to blame for the situation, it was now for the first time truly discussed: what if Rex Lapis did not return?

There were also other rumours that reached his ears as Morax’s sensitive hearing brought news from not only the neighbouring tables, but around the plaza as well.

A mining foreman had never shown up to his meeting with the crew about to set out to the Chasm and the financial backers were at odds with the mining company.

A young son of a noble family had been declared missing and a high prize was being offered for hints and sightings.

A mother of three had never returned from a shopping trip, leaving her children to run around and look for her in the streets, asking everyone if they had seen her.

A fisherman’s boat had been found drifting in the bay, its owner missing but all supplies still intact onboard. Would a talented person of his trade simply fall off their boat and drown on such a calm day?

So many people…

The now cold teacup forgotten, Zhongli buried his hands into his hair. Not all of these people he had heard rumours about were on the list of candidates, so perhaps their first assumption hadn’t been right on the money after all. Whether all of these cases were even related and further more connected to the people they were after, they did not know for sure. But Zhongli couldn’t help but assume the worst.

“Why, Mr. Zhongli. What a surprise.”

An unsure female voice called out to him and Zhongli raised his head from his hands to look at the very not-natural looking Ganyu talking to him from the street below the restaurant’s terrace.

Ganyu cleared her throat. “You uhm… seem… distressed! Is something the matter?”

Zhongli sighed. Of course the adepti would be worried if he sat here alone in the middle of the day for hours, downing only a single cup of tea. Or was it two? He must have looked frazzled as well or at least that’s what he felt like. And yes, he supposed Ganyu was the least suspicious adeptus to have approach him just because. But he was starting to understand why Morax had been worried about Ganyu’s acting skills…

“Good afternoon, Miss Ganyu,” he said politely and straightened his posture. “Thank you for your concern, but I am quite alright. Simply… tired. A lot has happened lately.”

“Oh, uh…” Ganyu scratched the back of her head. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I could help you with?”

“No. But… thank you,” Zhongli replied and stood up, leaving enough money on the table to pay for two pots of tea: one for the actual pot he had mostly had and one for the hours he had hogged the table. He thanked himself for having money with him to day. He did not feel like sending a bill to Hu Tao at the moment. He nodded Ganyu a goodbye. “Please, concentrate on your work. I’ve understood that you’re quite the busy person. Especially at times like these, the work you do is invaluable.”

Ganyu got visibly flustered and turned her eyes away from him, swaying from side to side slightly. “You’re too kind. I’m nothing special. Just doing my duty.”

“It is not a habit of mine to lie about such things. I mean what I say, Miss Ganyu,” Zhongli assured her and rounded his table to leave. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are things I too must do. I wish you a fine day and evening.”

“Of course!” Ganyu startled up to look after him and waved a little. “Please, you take care of yourself as well.”

“Of course.”

As much he felt uncomfortable at the moment, Zhongli was starting to understand why Morax was being harsh on him. There were far more important things at stake than his work or general comfort. He should not forget that despite of laying low at the moment, the adepti were relying on him now and expecting him to lead them. It did not feel real as of yet, but they indeed were on his side and ready to help if needed. For the sake of them, Morax and indeed all of Liyue, he needed to concentrate. For now, Morax and him needed to talk and think of a response to this series of disappearances around the city. Going to the Funeral Parlor was not amongst his options at the moment so he headed to his home, wondering if booking a room at a hotel was a farfetched option.

It was late in the afternoon, the day fast turning into the evening. As he made his way home, Morax unexpectedly sent a memory to him: a scenery of beautifully maintained garden spreading around him, dazzling in the golden twilight. Peacefully rustling red trees and blue flowers swaying along the stone-laid paths and clear streams. It was a stunning picture of tranquillity and a peaceful moment to enjoy it. Like a hopeful reminder of what kind of goal to strive for. The memory came with the scents and sounds as well, making it feel as if he had been there: in a garden in the imperial palace. Zhongli huffed a little, slightly amused, but calmer. So now Morax saw it fit to console him. In his own way. Zhongli would have to work for it seems.

He reached his front door and stopped. The memory faded from his mind as more pressing matters took its place. Yet again as he reached his apartment, he could feel it: something was off.

The millelith had found out nothing about the intrusion into his home, like he had expected. But something still wasn’t right. And the presence was stronger now.

Preparing himself mentally, Zhongli opened the door and stepped inside to his apartment. He could hear nothing. See nothing. But he could feel it.

Energy. Magic. A presence?!

A chill ran against the back of his neck, being the only warning he received, before he dodged out of the way of an icicle that would have smashed him in the head if not for Morax.

The door behind him was slammed shut and ice frosted over its seams to lock it tightly in place. Zhongli summoned his spear and let his energy light up the vision behind his back. He turned around just in time to see the abyss mage giggle at him and raise its staff up once again to attack.

Where had the mage come from? It was the middle of the day, in the middle of the capital. And furthermore, where exactly had it hidden to attack him from behind? His entranceway was not that spacious. Zhongli did not have time to form an answer to any of these questions before another barrage of icicles required his attention.

Managing to block a few, he dodged out of the way, ducking behind a corner, now in his living room. His eyes darted around, looking for options. He needed to get out of his apartment. The window was small, definitely hard to dive through, but if he could break it, someone outside might notice their fight. The window in the kitchen was bigger but the door was closed, so he’d need a second more to open it. The mage would not grant him many of those and geo was ill-suited against breaking elemental shields to stagger the abyss creature. Perhaps if he could crystallize some of the ice to make himself a shield…

Zhongli clicked his tongue and readied his spear. Floating gems solidified above his other hand. He was at a disadvantage in such a closed space against someone who could lodge juts of ice into any surface around them to obstruct and potentially hurt him.

Cryo… The elemental traces we found were pyro and hydro, he thought, biting his lips together in concentration. Does this mage have friends? Hiding somewhere? The screen that hid his bed suddenly seemed imposing.

<That’s not all,> Morax suddenly spoke in his mind. The fact that he chose to do so directly told Zhongli how potentially precarious the situation was. <There’s something else here. Stay vigilant!>

The abyss mage teleported in front of him, a spinning circle of floating icicles dancing around him and smacking him on his arm before he managed to block it entirely, tearing the sleeve of his coat. Zhongli lost his balance, but his fall formed into a roll backwards, landing with only one knee on the floor, thanks to Morax’s experience aiding his body to adapt.

Zhongli stopped his roll, the gems around his hand spinning before he sent them flying through the window to his right and the glass panels shattered with a loud crash. He held his weapon at the ready to counterattack or defend, but a light suddenly erupting beneath his feet made him grunt in surprise and shift his eyes down towards the floor, to the white lines that circled around him in ordered sequence.

<No!> Morax managed to curse in his head before the floor under him disappeared.

Chapter Text

The sound of shattering glass to their right caught the attention of two women walking along a raised walkway, interrupting their enthusiastic chatting. But as they turned their heads, the last of their talk about a cute sailor they had seen was replaced by a surprised gasp and a yelp. A flurry of brown clothes swished by them, causing a gust of wind to wave their hair and clothes and they raised their hands to shield themselves.

But upon seeing the form of a man who had come to stop beside them, their hands covered their mouths in surprise. Hanging from the railing with one hand, his feet firmly against the support beams and a cluster of glowing gems clutched in his other hand, was an adeptus.

Menogias paid the gushing women no mind as he stared at the gems, that he had stopped from flying dangerously close to the humans’ heads. Although created with standard geo vision levels of energy, the presence of their lord’s power was definitely discernible.

But that was not all. He raised his head to look at the broken window of the house he had been guarding. The pieces of falling glass were only just now reaching to the street below. Although a torn, flowing curtain still blocked most of the direct view inside, through the hole the gems had made into the window, he could sense it.

The Abyss.

The women gasped again as he leapt away, teleporting mid jump to land inside the small apartment. The traces of power were everywhere, flooding freely like someone had opened a dam. Menogias’s eyes caught the glimpse of a white magic circle on the floor as it dissipated, its purpose fulfilled. On instinct, he shifted his feet away from the traces of the lines and watched them fade as his heart started to beat faster and faster.

He was acutely aware that despite the abundance of energy, there was no one here. Only just a moment ago, he had seen Rex Lapis enter this apartment, but now it was empty. The overflowing energies tangling together around him prevented him from focusing his senses on such a short notice as much as he tried. The destination of this transport circle was unknown.

Menogias wasn’t sure was it rage or despair that threatened to take him over as he screamed. He didn’t often let himself be overtaken by such emotions, but the mask on his belt was glowing in response to his cracking control.

As soon as the burst of emotion was done manifesting itself as a loud stream of sound from his oesophagus, he teleported outside again, dashing over the streets towards another person he had only just seen moments ago.

“Whuh—” Ganyu gasped as Menogias appeared next to her out of the blue and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her up from the pavement.

“With me,” the yaksha only muttered as a warning before they both disappeared, leaving surprised citizens of Liyue to shut their gaping mouths on their own.

Menogias let go of Ganyu as soon as they were inside Rex Lapis’ civilian home again. The yaksha could see the confusion turning into horror as soon as the qilin sensed the same he did. “What did he say to you?” he asked, stepping closer to Ganyu as her wide eyes scanned the room. The shards of ice were only just shattering around them.

“What… What?” Ganyu stuttered, turning around trying to perceive everything she could in the room, until she looked at him. “Menogias—!”

“You went to talk with him,” Menogias interrupted and grasped Ganyu’s shoulders tightly as she started to shake. “What did he say?”

“He…” Ganyu stuttered, her eyes again flying around the room, trying to grasp the situation.

“Ganyu, focus.” Menogias shook her shoulders. “That might have been the last piece of information we’re going to get until everything unravels. We have to make decisions, now.”

Ganyu squeezed her eyes shut. “He said… that we should not worry about him. And to focus on our job. He said he had something he must do.” Ganyu’s fingers weaved through her hair and clutched it tightly. “He promised to take care of himself.”

Menogias let go of her shoulders and marched to the last of the ice chunks stuck on the floor that was yet to disappear. Summoning an array of sharp-edged gems above his hand, he commanded them to swirl around his fist like glove as he plunged his hand into the cold crystalline structure, shattering it into tiny enough pieces that they soon dissipated into the air.

“Menogias,” Ganyu called out to him as the other adeptus stood up again. “What do we do?”

Menogias stared at a piece of ice he had trapped inside the circling gems, preventing it from disappearing. It was almost beautiful, like a clear light blue crystal roughly the size of his hand, encased within a golden halo. But under that sheen, the foul energy it gave off was being edged into his memory.  “We talk to the others.”

.

The solid surface that reappeared underneath him was rough and uneven, making him stumble. Zhongli clutched his old trusted polearm in his hand as his vision started to clear and the blinding white around him dispersed. But even before his eyes could ascertain his whereabouts, he knew he would not be defenceless. The surface underneath his palm was solid rock with small gravel and grains of sand on top of it. Through the touch on his skin, he could sense stone walls that rose around him, connecting seamlessly at the top to form a wide-open natural cave.

In other words, if this was how someone was planning to catch the Lord of Geo, they were idiots.

But making hasty decisions before he knew what he was up against would have been foolish, so Zhongli kept Morax’s power on the down low and only sharpened his senses, preparing to defend himself as he could finally make out his surroundings properly.

It was indeed a cave, longer than it was wide and perhaps a little over two times his height. Next to the stone walls a bunch of wooden crates and other scraps laid here and there, littering the area. Ahead of him at the other end of the cavern stood a simple wooden table with a few chairs around it and a shelf next to a fire, making up a crude living space for a small group.

And in front of him, Zhongli saw six people. Four human and two abyss mages, a cryo and a pyro one, that finished teleporting in as he did.

“Is this the dude? Well, finally!” a burly man with hammer groaned and cracked his neck. “Finally, someone to have a little fun around here with. Hey, you! This’d better be worth the wait.”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” a woman standing directly in front of Zhongli at the centre of the group ordered firmly, without sparing the man a glance. Her eyes were glued on Zhongli’s form crouching on the floor before them.

Zhongli held his weapon a little tighter and waited for someone in the room to make move, going through his options. If he relied on Morax’s power, escaping would perhaps not be the hardest task, but it was definitely risky. He did not know where this cave was, nor were there more people somewhere nearby, lying in the wait or ready to be called. Even if he could channel enough energy to reshape the walls around him to avoid getting encircled and to divide up his foes, the teleporting abyss mages would definitely still pose an issue.

He was also surprised to see the three men who were standing behind the mages and woman up front. They were by all accounts: regular people. Treasure hoarders? Their attires seemed to suggest so. Zhongli could not see the connection between the people in the room. Why would people like them be conspiring with the Abyss to find the emperor of Liyue? A personal vendetta? It made no sense to him, as of now. He needed a better grasp of the situation and the people facing him.

But this woman… Zhongli felt the sense of unease as their eyes met. She looked like a normal person, but he had never seen anything like her attire. It looked like a uniform, black and blue, prim and neatly set, but none he had ever seen. The emotionless pit that was her eyes was unsettling to look at, as if she could hypnotise him at any moment. She stood still and straight, even with the panting and distressed looking abyss mages at her sides, and looked at him with an expression that told Zhongli nothing of her intentions or thoughts. Perhaps most unsettling of all, even with the heightened senses granted to him by Morax, Zhongli sensed nothing. It was as if she wasn’t really there at all.

The woman glanced at the two mages from the corner of her eyes. “What has you two so frazzled? Was our guest uncooperative?”

The pyro abyss mage heaved and shook its head. “No. But this puny human… He managed to break the window and shattered our concealment wards. I had to move the epicentre of the spell in a real hurry to get us all out of there quickly enough.”

The cryo mage seemed less tired as it huffed. “He did not put up much of a fight. I’ll grant him skill at dodging, though. But those pesky illuminated beasts have been all over the city the past few days. With our wards pouring out, it was only a matter of time before one of them would have shown up and gotten us caught.”

“Hmm,” the woman said thoughtfully, her eyes returning to Zhongli. “You did well then. The funeral consultant has successfully joined us, after all.” Her eyes squinted a little. “Although I must say, you should have been a good child and returned home for the night. It would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

“That’s why I’m saying this’d better be worth the wait,” one of the treasure hoarders spoke up again. This one seemed more upfront compared to the two who were staying quiet and hanging back. The man tapped his hammer to his palm, taking a step towards Zhongli. “So, you’re going to resist, right? I’ll take good at dodging as the only noticeable skill if I can get a little workout in.”

“I said hands off,” the woman repeated, now shooting a glare at the man. “I am not done here.”

Zhongli stood up slowly, trying to appear non-threatening with his movements. He still held on to his spear and his vision was glowing at the ready, but he kept the weapon down, only taking a defensive stance, ready to dodge if this man with the hammer or someone else decided to attack him. Morax was also silent, but Zhongli could feel his tension underneath, judging and reading the situation, ready to do what was needed when someone would dare to make a move against them. Zhongli was fairly certain he could defeat the three treasure hoarders and, although definitely more tedious, the two abyss mages were also within his skill to at least escape from. But the woman was an enigma… And although he could not be certain, before him were likely at least some of the people responsible for the recent kidnappings. Which meant, there could be more than his life at stake here.

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?” Zhongli asked as his eyes met the woman’s again. Did they know already that Morax was with him? The mages seemed to think it was just his power that he had used back in his apartment, which meant that his training in fusing his vision’s power with Morax’s as a subterfuge was working. It was best not to reveal his cards for now.

A small smile graced the woman’s lips. “All we need from you is your cooperation for a short while. You will be required to stay in this cave for the time being. Worry not, basic necessities will be provided. If you do not resist, I can promise you a mostly painless experience.”

Zhongli edged away from her, wishing her expression would at least give away something. “Why? And why me?”

“The details are on a need-to-know basis I’m afraid. What I can tell you is that there is someone we would much like to meet, and until we do, we require you to stay here,” the woman replied and raised a hand towards him, her palm up, making Zhongli take another step back as precaution. A greenish flash materialized something that looked like mess of tangling, thin branches on her palm. “I apologise, but I am in a hurry. Your decision, consultant. Would you like to attempt to fight all of us first, or be a good boy and allow me to simply give you this little gift?”

“Wait, you’re giving him one of those bracelets you told us about? So, he’s like, one of the main dudes?” the man with a hammer gaped at the tangle of branches and turned to the other two men. “This mean I got a post where I can’t even fight the millelith?”

“Would you shut up?” another one of the human men spoke now. This one had a mask over his eyes. He was quite tall. “I’ll spar with you later.”

The woman was ignoring the treasure hoarders and offered her hand and this “bracelet” closer towards Zhongli. “Time is ticking, consultant.” The mages had grabbed their staffs beside her and were also facing him. “I would much rather have you in one piece still when I walk out of here. How about you?”

Zhongli eyes wandered from the weird branches, to the woman, to the mages and to the human men. The only path out of the cave seemed to be behind all of them. Attempting an escape would mean a fight he could not win without Morax. And honestly, he wasn’t too confidant even with the god’s help. Morax was trying to reassure him that it was possible, but they had not been able to try how much of Morax power Zhongli could handle at once. A bit of control practice was better than nothing, but ill-suited for an open brawl. Still, Morax was ready for action at a moment’s notice, intending to remain true to his promise to aid Zhongli if he was in danger. And he certainly was now.

But the hammer man’s words had slightly cleared up the situation for him. Firstly, these people were almost definitely behind the recent kidnappings. And it seemed likely each person was guarded and perhaps “required to wait in confinement” as he was asked to do, until the mission of these people was done. A mission, he was sure, was that of locating Morax. Secondly, whatever this thing was on the woman’s hand, it was something only given to certain prisoners. And judging by how this man itching far action was bemoaning a lacking chance to fight the millelith, something that was not possible with “the main dudes” Zhongli was apparently part of, there was a distinct chance that some of the kidnapped people were decoys, meant to be found more easily than others.

This all also cleared up another thing: although they seemed to suspect him, these people were not 100% certain he was Rex Lapis. And that meant…

“Good boy,” the woman said softly and smiled as Zhongli dismissed his spear and raised his hands in surrender, standing up straight from his defensive stance. “You,” she ordered over her shoulder to the three men and nodded her head towards Zhongli. “Confiscate his vision and hold him still.”

Morax’s bewilderment and shock to his decision were almost violent, but Zhongli pushed the god’s protests away and down from his mind, letting last shreds of his heightened senses return to normal with it, as the three men grabbed a hold of his arms and restrained him and his vision was ripped out of its chain. He was forced down to his knees, harshly, considering he wasn’t resisting, but Zhongli remained subservient. He could not make hasty moves until he knew more of where the others kidnappees were kept. For now, his goal was clear:

Morax must not be found.

The burly man craving for action and the tall person with a mask stripped off his coat and tossed it aside, while the third man took his vision away somewhere. At the woman’s instruction, the masked man rolled his left sleeve up to his elbow and held it raised up for the woman.

“Good,” the woman said and her fingers wrapped around Zhongli’s wrist, pulling his arm towards her as she knelt down in front of them. “Now hold him still.”

Zhongli grunted at the tighter hold the two men took, trapping him in place as the woman brought the bundle of branches up to his bare forearm. The woman’s emotionless eyes gleamed as green energy sprouted around the branches and brought them to life. The branches wriggled like dangling worms as dendro energy moved and wrapped them around Zhongli’s arm. They intertwined, and weaved together, tightening around his skin and interlocking into what could actually be called a bracelet now.

The woman seemed pleased as the branches settled, but her hold on his arm was firm still and her fingers still fed the bracelet energy. “And to make sure you don’t get any ideas about taking my gift off,” she said almost gently and looked up to Zhongli’s eyes.

Zhongli grunted, first in surprise and then in pain, as something pierced his skin and dug into his flesh. The woman seemed to enjoy how his face twitched and contorted as thorns sprouted on the underside of the bracelet, locking it in place on his arm. Zhongli hissed between his teeth and tried not to shudder as blood sprouted from underneath the branches and trickled down to the cavern floor. The arms holding him in place tightened further as his muscles strained, preventing him from trying to pull his hand away.

“Very good,” the woman praised slowly and shifted her hold on his wrist closer to the bracelet, petting her fingers across it. The dendro energy was fading. “I was hoping to at least see a tear, but you are a brave boy indeed.” Suddenly she fell silent and the fingers caressing the branches stilled. As soon as the last of the green energy had died down, a couple of what looked like veins on the branches’ surface lit up, now with a more golden light. It was faint and lasted only a moment, before fading, but by the time that happened, the woman had pulled harshly on Zhongli’s arm to get him closer to herself and the fingers of her other hand wrapped around his throat. “Oh? And what. Have. We. Here,” she said, slowly again, but this time her tone was dripping malice.

“It’s gone,” the cryo abyss mage commented from behind her shoulder, its eyes firmly on the bracelet. “But unmistakably the right reaction.”

The woman chuckled, her eyes firmly on Zhongli as she pulled him close to her face. “You wouldn’t happen to be with someone at the moment, would you?”

“What?” Zhongli managed to gasp for a breath before her hold around his throat tightened.

“See this bracelet, I am quite proud of it,” the woman explained with a silken voice. The hand that held onto Zhongli’s arm was rubbing the edge of the bracelet, blood smearing against the skin under her fingers. “It has a distinct feature that lets it react to different kinds of energy.” She leant even closer. “It’s good at finding things people want to hide. And without your vision, I dare say nothing at all should be happening here, much less a glow of this colour. So, say…” Her fingers were digging into his skin. “You are not with someone very special at the moment, are you?”

Zhongli’s mind was racing. He was ready to admit, he had not expected them to have a tool like this. And he was in much worse of a position to defend himself right now than what he had been. And most definitely would rat Morax out if he did anything. The reason the bracelet had stopped glowing so fast was because Morax had shrunk away as soon as the god had apparently realised what the tool did. Luckily, it did not seem to be reacting to the power from Morax that Zhongli had already “made his own” so to speak. At least not when he wasn’t actively using it. Or perhaps the lack of reaction was Morax’s doing as well, Zhongli couldn’t exactly tell.

Right now, he needed to explain this away somehow without ruining everything. He gasped for a breath the woman allowed him by loosening the grip of her fingers and pretended to catch his breath (it wasn’t technically all pretending), while his mind went through the library of stories and lies he and Morax had prepared for varying situation that might rise.

“Special? Do you speak…” Zhongli started, his voice a little raspy. “…of the God of Contracts?”

The woman’s eyes flashed and the nails digging into the skin of his throat bore deeper. Zhongli also felt the men holding him shift at his words and make surprised grunts of their own.

Zhongli winced a little at the way the woman raked her nails across his skin, leaving behind red marks. “I…” he continued, putting all he could into keeping up a decent act. “…I met him. In a dream. Is he the person you want to find?  Are… are you the people who—”

His speech was cut of when the woman once again closed her fingers around his windpipe. “That is none of your concern,” she said quietly but firmly. “A dream you say? Do elaborate. Go on now.”

Zhongli coughed a drop of saliva out of his throat as he was allowed to breathe again, before he continued. “He came to see me… twice. When I was preparing the Rite of Parting. It was important to him, that the Rite was done properly. So, he came to give me instructions,” Zhongli explained as clearly as he could and tried not to pull on his arm too much as the woman kept rubbing his skin by the bracelet as he talked, twisting the torn skin underneath. “The adepti already approached me… because they sensed the traces of his presence. And they told me to be cautious when they let me go, in the case someone else detected it too. I’m guessing, someone like you. But that is all I know.” He closed his eyes. Trying to make himself seem more defenceless in their hands. “Please. I do not know where our lord is now.”

The woman hummed quietly in thought and didn’t let him go.

“Do you believe him?” the pyro abyss mage asked.

“It does match the intel,” the cryo mage admitted but pointed its staff at Zhongli’s face, causing a chilling wave to frost his skin.

The woman’s eyes wandered to the bracelet, which looked but a bundle of bloodied branches at the moment, devoid of any unnecessary glowing. “Time will tell,” she replied and stood up, letting go of Zhongli now. She looked at the three men who were waiting around, their postures tense. “You know your tasks. And remember to keep an eye on the bracelet at all times.” She turned to glare straight at the man with the hammer. “If I come back to see him beaten up, know that I will seal you all inside this cave once we’re finished. With riftwolves if I’m feeling generous.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the man in the mask said and stood up, pulling Zhongli up with him. The other man quickly followed as well to keep his hold steady.

The woman and the two mages left. The treasure hoarders took Zhongli to the back of the cave, where the debris lying around had been built into a crude cage against the wall. The structure was flimsy at best and even without his vision, Zhongli was almost certain that he could have broken out of it. That coupled with the fact that only three normal humans without visions were apparently left to guard him and the whole situation of this being a cave with as much stone around to use if someone was able, was making Zhongli think that it was all intentional.

They were daring him to try and escape. They were making I easy, especially for someone who was partnered up with a god. They were leaving holes for him to wiggle his way out of, if he only wanted to.

But he stepped inside the cage without resisting, letting the men lock the door behind him and leaving him to watch behind the bars as they settled around the table to talk with one another. He was certain that escaping at the moment was unwise. He had managed to fool them, at least as far as he could tell, for now. Morax had hidden away deep within his soul, barely making enough contact for Zhongli to tell he was still present. However easy it was made out to be, the moment they would try anything involving the god’s power, the whole ordeal would turn more dangerous, without question.

Zhongli rubbed his aching arm above the bracelet that was firmly stuck on his skin. Dribbles of blood were still falling down his wrist, but slowly the wounds he could not see underneath the branches clotted around the thorns biting into his flesh. This damned thing was a problem now. It effectively meant that for now, if they wanted to keep hiding, Zhongli was on his own.

Not willing to simply do nothing, Zhongli studied the three men who were guarding him while obediently sitting in his cell. From what he could tell, while listening to them talk as time passed, they were hired hands who did not in fact know a lot of the details as to what they were doing. Someone higher up in the treasure hoarder’s personal command chains had made a deal for a lot of money and that deal had landed these three here to guard him. If he had to guess, that was true for the other kidnapped people as well. Most likely, remembering back to their surprised reaction when the woman and Zhongli had spoken of the God of Contracts, they had not even been aware who their employers were searching for.

And because of, one, this entire cave not having any chances of actually imprisoning the Geo Archon if he decided not to stay, and two, the fact that they had earlier talked about how the millelith could find some of the places people were held in: Zhongli was guessing that these people were entirely expendable to the people the woman represented.  

His three guards had very different personalities. The large burly man who kept wanting to hit things with his hammer was crude and loud, and was easily bored out of his mind. He kept whining about not getting a chance for a good brawl, the lack of chances to be outside in the wild and how they were not allowed to “have fun” with Zhongli. The other two referred to him as Big Shun.

The man with the mask was quieter and of all of them, seemed the most dead-set on completing their mission. He appeared to be close to someone the three kept referring to as “big brother”, who had assigned this spot to them, and the masked man appeared to be loyal to this big brother to his core. His name was Brazem and he was from Mondstadt.

The third man, named Wo Lang, was the most timid of the three. Or rather than timid, it might have been more accurate to say he didn’t want to get involved in arguments and preferred to steer away whenever they happened, which was often. He usually stayed quiet as the other two started to argue about this or that, but participated in other types of conversation. He spent most of his time making alchemical mixtures of varying elements to use in battle.

Zhongli shrunk himself into the corner of his cage and remained quiet and passive. He wasn’t too confident in his acting skills, but as long as calm and withdrawn were the only requirements, he felt like he could do this. If he was talked to, he responded with a small voice. When they brought him something to eat or drink, he would only touch it after they had left back to their table. And if the burly man was bored enough to come mock him through the bars and kick them to startle him at least a little, Zhongli simply hung back in submission and did not argue back or defend himself. Eventually he got used to the ache on his forearm as well, more easily able to keep it in sight of his guards no matter his position as they often demanded of him.

That’s right, he thought as once again the three started talking about their assignments and wondering how other teams were faring. Pay me no mind. At first, they had hushed each other and glanced in his direction when one of them brought up details about the entire operation. They would then speak more quietly or change the topic. Keep talking. But gradually, they stopped doing that. Even as they got some reports from the other teams or the overall development, they started talking about them as if he wasn’t there. I am not a threat.

And thus, he learnt, more and more.

The amount of people kidnapped. The number of them that were decoys and main targets. About how some of the kidnappings had failed. How angry their employers were getting because of that. Some descriptions of locations the other teams were in, although his guards did not seem to know everything or the specifics. The personalities of some of the employers these three had met. How abyss mages floating about their midst made them uneasy at times.

Zhongli listened on as they gradually forgot he was capable of doing so. Slowly but surely, the situation was becoming clearer to him.

It was difficult to tell actual time, but if Zhongli was right that they only gave him one proper meal per day, it was around the third day since he had been captured when something stirred inside him and Zhongli was alerted. The three men were over by their table, having an argument over a card game they were playing. Their attention was elsewhere.

He brought his knees closer to himself, obscuring his hands from their view as he settled his arms on top of each other on his lap. The left arm with the bracelet he hid under the right one and leant his head to the wall beside him, pretending to sleep. As he closed his eyes, he saw the veins in the bracelet’s branches starting to glow.

<Do not be alarmed,> Morax said. His voice sounded as if he was speaking to him from far away. <I’ve figured my way around it. The bracelet will not send a direct signal back to its master now or record my presence. But make sure they do not see it.>

Zhongli resisted the urge to nod and tried to reach out towards the god with his thoughts. Can you contact the adepti and share with them what we know?

<I cannot. This cave is surrounded by a barrier. Getting through it won’t be an issue, the issue is that they will know if I do so. And if they detect me leaving, they will know you lied to them.>

And what of dreams?

<It will detect those as well. Think of it as a curtain. It will not really block anything, but it will move around enough for everyone to notice something went through. I would also need to use you as conduit to accomplish it properly without leaving. The bracelet would catch that.> Morax sighed. <I understand why you decided to hide me. But know that we’re effectively at a stalemate for now because of it. And I dislike having anyone treat you like this.>

Zhongli’s brow twitched as he felt the urge to frown. He heard the three men continue their card game as their argument was somewhat solved, although Big Shun still appeared to be unsatisfied with their ruling. What should we do?

<I am limited on what I can do while trying to hide. But I will figure something out. If there is a positive in all of this, is that the wards around this place and that bracelet are free studying material for me to learn more about our enemies.>

Can you use it find the people behind this?

Morax chuckled. <I’m glad you catch on so quickly. The best I can describe it is comparing it to giving a scent to follow for a good hunting dog. When we’re free, they can no longer hide from me.> Morax sounded more than pleased at the thought.

Zhongli’s lips twitched into a little smile, before his face returned to a neutral expression. Even a little more disconnected as they were, he wasn’t immune to Morax’s eager anticipation. Then let us make haste coming up with a plan to get out of this. But even if we have to reveal your location to them, I’m worried what will happen to the other people they have captured.

<So am I. That remains our biggest problem. I dare say that if this was just about us, this would be much easier. But unfortunately, we might have to take risks with that.>

Have you—

“Hey!”

Zhongli startled at the shout a little and opened his eyes to see Shun walking to his cage. Morax’s presence quickly faded from his mind but the glow on the bracelet only started to dim slowly in his wake. Too slowly…

“We’ve told you not to hide that arm,” Big Shun rumbled at him as he stomped close. “You hear me, huh?!”

Zhongli ran his right hand through his hair, keeping himself curled up around his left arm to keep it hidden for every second he could. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to sound tired. “I just fell asleep.” He kept his eyes on the bracelet as he kept up his sleepy act. That damned lingering…

“You trying to be funny?” the clearly irritated and frustrated man growled and grabbed the keys to his cage from their little perch close by.

Brazem stood up from his seat by the table now. “Shun. What are you doing?”

“We can rough him up if he disobeys orders, right?” Big Shun said as he wrenched the door open and took the one needed step to reach Zhongli. “If you’re so innocent, why you keep hiding it, huh? Well, meek guy?”

Zhongli grunted between his teeth as he allowed himself to yanked up from the floor. For a second his obedient act slipped and he glared up at the man who held him by the collar.

Behind the bars, Wo Lang had stood up as well. “Wait, hold up,” the usually quieter treasure hoarder now also said. Brazem was already walking towards them. “I really don’t think you should hurt him—"

“Get your dumb brain working, oaf,” Brazem cut the other man off and also stepped inside the cage. “We have clear orders to leave him alone. Don’t drag us down with you!”

Shun was too preoccupied with his own popping nerves reaching their limits with combination of frustration and boredom to heed their warnings. “Well then he should play by the rules too, ain’t it? I saw that look you gave me. You think you could win me in a fight or something?” he challenged and Zhongli made an alarmed grunt as he saw the man’s free hand close around the bracelet (now thankfully no longer glowing), squeezing it. “Might not be the brightest around, but I know this thing’s important. We got to make sure it’s functioning good and all that. So, I’ve been thinking,” he spoke between his teeth as he twisted his hand around the bracelet and pulled on it. His eyes lit up with mad glee when Zhongli gasped a breath in and moaned in pain, feeling the thorns reopening his wounds and tearing them wider open. His breath quickened as fresh blood dripped down his arm and Shun held it up between them, shaking it. “We can blame it on you trying to get this off right?!”

His shout turned into roar of pain of his own as blade of a dagger sunk through his forearm and he released it from around the bracelet. Brazem yanked the blade on his arm to get him to let go completely and looked like he was ready to murder someone.

“Take your impulses somewhere else,” he muttered with dangerously low growl and shoved Shun away from Zhongli. “I’ll kill you myself if you get in the way of the mission again.”

Zhongli listened to them argue in front of him as he clutched his right hand above the bracelet, gritting his teeth. The bracelet had shifted slightly down his arm and he could see the purple, inflamed skin underneath it now. As he watched his blood trickle down his arm and to the floor, he could feel that Morax was trying his hardest to not make an appearance at the moment. Zhongli knew that if he had allowed it, a golden aura would have flared around him by now and Shun would have witnessed a much more shining variety of a glare directed in his direction. Zhongli did not want to know the details of what exactly Morax planned on doing after that.

Brazem and Big Shun had exited his cage and taken their argument outside the cavern. Their voices were still booming and echoing along the walls, telling Zhongli that they were not far. Wo Lang looked between the corridor out and Zhongli a couple of times before he ran to the still open cage. Zhongli expected him to simply lock the door again, but instead the man stepped inside.

“I’m sorry,” Wo Lang mumbled and to Zhongli’s further surprise, bowed to him a little in apology, then suddenly leaning closer.

“Hmm?” Zhongli glanced down as he felt a weight in his pocket and saw a glimpse of yellow before it disappeared behind the fabric of his trousers.

Wo Lang quickly turned around and left the cage, locking the door behind him. Then he stopped for a second and hesitated, looking a little in Zhongli’s direction after a moment of what seemed like an inner battle. “They might take a moment to come back,” he said before swiftly walking away. He stopped by the corridor leading out, stealing little glances in Zhongli’s direction but mostly keeping his eyes on what ever was happening behind the corner.

Zhongli watched him, conflicted. The man by the door was making no clear moves to keep a proper eye on him. He did not know why or should he trust this opportunity that had presented itself to him. But his vision had been undeniably returned to his pocket just now.

He wasn’t sure if he could trust Wo Lang, despite of this sudden act of defiance to the man’s directives. In the end, although the opportunity presented itself, he did not attempt to contact Morax again. He could tell the god was also being cautious. It was possible this seemingly friendlier guard was trying to trick him: to get him to lower his guard and reveal something he should not.

That night, Shun was denied his turn to keep watch while the other two slept, leaving Wo Lang and Brazem with longer shifts. Zhongli sat on the floor inside his cage, trying to ignore the throbbing pain on his arm enough to relax. It was proving rather difficult, but he received further unexpected help when Wo Lang had his first shift of the night. He brought him a slightly wet towel, leaving it past the wooden bars without a word. Zhongli thank him, quietly, and used it to clean the drying blood from his arm. Because of the bracelet, he could not tend to the wounds themselves, but it was nice to get rid of the flaking stains.

When he set the towel back outside, Wo Lang replaced it with a cup of water and a piece of dried meat, making nervous glances towards the straw rolls of his companions, like he was in the middle of committing heinous crimes. Once again, Zhongli decided to accept it and, when Brazem woke up before he could finish, he hid the rest of his unforeseen snack just in case.

On his second shift, in the dead of night, with the other two men fast asleep, Wo Lang walked up to his cage again and this time knelt down by the bars. “Hey?” he called out, barely loudly enough to hear.

Zhongli turned his head to look at him properly, having only been glancing at him in secret as he walked close, curious if cautious of this treasure hoarder now. Wo Lang was gesturing him to come closer, so he moved to the front corner of his cage and leant on the bars as he sat down again.

Obviously nervous of the other two waking up, Wo Lang scooted towards him, until he was close enough to whisper even quieter. “Um, so…” he hesitated, not meeting Zhongli’s gaze for more than a few passing glances. “Are you… actually the person they’re trying to find?”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “I do not know their goals,” he replied, partially truthful.

Wo Lang seemed uncomfortable. “Back when… they put that bracelet on you. You asked if… if they were trying to find the God of Contracts.” He held the bars in between them tightly. “Is that true? Are they… hunting down the Lord of Geo?”

Zhongli kept his voice firm. “I told you: I do not know. Why are you asking me?”

“Because I saw it,” the other man said and reached out through the bars and Zhongli, although surprised, allowed him to hold on to his hand and bring it closer. “The bracelet. They told us… that it would glow golden if put on the right person. I saw a little of it back when they put it on. And again today. Just as Shun pulled you up. It was glowing again. So, if you… are the right person…”

So he was caught after all. Zhongli cursed inwardly, but was thankful it was apparently only Wo Lang who had noticed. He was certain Brazem and Shun would not have kept it to themselves had they seen it.

“Please tell me,” Wo Lang whispered. Zhongli noticed a little shake in the hands that held his own and his eyes widened. “Are you Rex Lapis?”

Chapter Text

“Are you Rex Lapis?”

Zhongli had two questions of his own in mind after that question was asked. First: could he trust this man? Even if he could trust him, however, would telling him bring more harm than good? Having someone outside the cage helping him within the enemy ranks was definitely not a bad prospect. But if pressured by his peers, could this man truly keep a secret?

Secondly: was he? He knew Morax was probably groaning somewhere the moment that thought came into his mind, but it’s not like he could stop it from popping up. Technically speaking, of course: yes. He was. But he felt more like just a person helping out a god against his adversaries. That in and of itself was already quite a tale to tell and felt quite enough for him.

But an emperor… Zhongli’s lips twitched nervously. “Flattering, but… no.”

This was the first time someone other than an adeptus had managed to identify him. That must have meant that his mask of normalcy was starting to crumble at an ever-faster pace. Wo Lang’s back hunched down slightly as if he deflated a little. He did not let go of Zhongli’s hand, however.

Zhongli decided to continue the discussion for now, to gain some new insight about this man. And also, in the case this was a trick of some kind to get him to confess: to make up an excuse that fit his existing story. “I have merely been touched by our archon in passing. Today, the traces of that energy flared up all of a sudden. I was… scared what would happen if you noticed. So, I tried to hide it. Thank you. For not telling your companions what you saw.” When the man didn’t comment, he continued, figuring perhaps a question would rouse the man to speak again. “You really thought someone like me could have been Rex Lapis?”

There seemed to be something weighing Wo Lang’s mind. The man was still not letting go of his hand but Zhongli did not get the feeling it was in reverence to his perceived godhood. Not at least anymore. The man seemed… anxious.

“I dunno what makes a good emperor,” Wo Lang spoke up. There was something in his voice that made Zhongli frown. “People like me don’t usually make the cut is all. What would I really know?”

Zhongli looked back down at their interlocked hands, the grip on them getting tighter as the man spoke. A possibility dawned on him: was this man afraid? And ironically, had concluded the only person he could confide in was their prisoner? Zhongli realised the man’s question about whether he was Rex Lapis or not, could have been because he had seen a shred of hope, that he was in a presence of someone with the power to change the situation. And of course, he was now being denied further access to that hope.

Zhongli wondered what to do as the man’s body language and tone started to click with him, weighing the pros and cons. If Wo Lang was reluctant about his role and perhaps willing to go against Zhongli’s captors, help would have been welcome. And Zhongli did feel a bit of a sting thinking he could not offer any aid to someone seeking it from him. Then again if truly afraid, there was even more of a chance Wo Lang could break under pressure and tell someone else whatever Zhongli told him. Also, there was still the chance this man was just a really good actor.

“Why are you confiding in me?” he asked with a low voice, leaning a little closer. He wanted to hear a reason from the man’s own lips instead of assuming.

“I don’t even know, man…” Wo Lang shook his head. “Those people… All I wanted was an easy couple of Mora. A chance to hang out and treasure hunt with my pals. I don’t want to make enemies of gods. What if they really are after the emperor? I’ve nothing against the Lord of Geo. Those folks are nothing but bad news. Why did big brother make a deal with them?”

It sounds like he has wanted to get this out of his chest for a while, Zhongli noted silently, somewhat sympathetic to Wo Lang’s situation. Although he didn’t have entirely clean hands, he seemed to be effectively trapped into doing something he wanted nothing to do with but had no way out of. “Perhaps…” Zhongli said aloud to answer the question. “An easy couple of Mora?”

Wo Lang flinched. “Off of the emperor’s skin? And ours?”

“You would know this big brother of yours better than I,” Zhongli replied and frowned a little, pressing his lips into a tight line. He had no experience of trying to absolve people of their sins in the name of gods. But he was a consultant, one who often dealt with grieving relatives. And although currently unavailable, there was an actual god in their presence. One that Zhongli was hoping he had been starting to understand a little better recently. “Don’t worry. This will come to an end soon. And it will not be an end where those people catch the emperor,” Zhongli promised with a steady tone. He was starting to feel he needed to hear these words said aloud as well.

“What? What are you talking about, man?” Wo Lang raised his eyebrow at him. “Why would you know that? Hold on, why aren’t you scared? You’re the one they locked up.”

Zhongli smiled for a second and pressed his head on the wooden bars that separated them. “When I met our archon, I happened to learn in the process that he isn’t the type to turn his back on those who rely on him. You don’t want anything bad to happen to the emperor, correct? Nothing comes for free, of course, but if you truly regret your part in this, then I am sure the God of Contracts will hear you out.” Right, Morax?

“I don’t get you, man,” Wo Lang huffed, but he sounded less anxious now. “How can you sound so sure about that kind of stuff? And why do I feel I can believe you?” He let one of his hands go to rub his palm across his face.” This is so stupid… I’m coming clean to a man to whose cell I’ve got the keys for. Boys would laugh their asses off…”

Zhongli gave him a short, quiet laugh. “If it makes you feel better, this cage is flimsy enough that I could break out of here without a key if I wanted to.”

“Wait, you don’t want to escape?”

“I am merely smart enough to realise these bars would not be my only obstacle.”

On the other side of the cave, Big Shun was rolling in his sleep and mumbling something, which caused Wo Lang to quickly let go and get up. He glanced down at Zhongli one more time when he was sure his companions were still asleep, opening his mouth to say something but changed his mind mid syllable and walked away. Zhongli looked after him, wondering if he had done something right or not and should he have taken the chance of having outside help.

The rest of the night he spent alone in his little cell, trying to catch some sleep, eventually managing a few hours here and there.

.

“What updates do you bring me?” Ningguang asked her secretary as she leant back on her chair.

Baishi bowed a little and held out a sealed scroll. “The noble house of Weng Liu requests your—”

“I know what they want from me and that is already part of our operations,” Ningguang stopped her and rhythmically tapped her metallic nails to the armrest. “Lord Weng Liu has to understand that his son does not gain any special treatment over of the other people involved. Regardless of their social standing, all of the people on this list are of equal value to me and will receive the most I can give.” She leant forward and set her hand over the sheet of names on her desk. “Is there something you can to add or exclude from this list or otherwise wish to tell me about the case this morning?”

Baishi held her head down. “No, Lady Ningguang. No new cases have been reported, but I’m afraid the millelith also stand at an impasse. Without the help of the adepti, the officers are saying all existing plans carry considerable risks to the kidnappees.”

“I see,” Ningguang replied and stood up. “I will take a moment to contemplate this issue in private. Leave that scroll to my desk. I will look over it later.” While Baishi quickly obeyed her orders, the Tianquan looked over her shoulder to the muscular man who was standing in the corner. “I suppose even my private chambers are not exempt from your delightful company, Marshal Vritras?”

The yaksha only huffed in response and took a step forward to follow her.

Ningguang sighed. “Be my guest. Far be it from me to further increase the divide of Liyue,” she said and walked past her secretary towards her personal quarters, the war marshal at her heels.

As soon as the heavy door closed and made a satisfying click to signal her privacy was secured, or as secured as it could be at the moment, Ningguang strode over to the expensive artisan chair by a folding screen and sat down. Taking a deep breath to gather her thoughts, she took out her pipe to let it spin atop her fingers again. It had been four days now since the first person linked to the series of mysterious disappearances had been reported missing. Although no new incidents had occurred since yesterday, the progress they had made solving these cases left much to be desired.

She gave the yaksha who had walked over to stand a step behind her a long stare from the corner of her eyes and put the pipe between her lips without lighting it. “Wouldn’t you say my personal chambers in the Jade Chamber were free of any kind of unwanted attention?” she asked the yaksha, her gaze calculating the body language of the four-armed man that had been trailing her like a shadow. She gave Bosacius a moment of time to answer, but the adeptus stayed quiet.

“I’ve been thinking about the incident with Keqing two days ago,” she continued talking, deciding to try and see if she could probe a reaction out of the adeptus assigned to “watch her” ever since the adepti had announced their distrust in the Qixing: to find the culprit who had had their hand in the murder of the previous Rex Lapis and the disappearance of the next. “Although I am endlessly thankful to the adepti for their help at the time, it strikes me as odd that the yaksha assigned to be her guard managed to react so swiftly.”

Bosacius frowned and kept looking at her silently. Ningguang took that little crease between his eyes as a small victory.

“Do not get me wrong,” she added, mustering her best diplomatic tone. “I am not doubting the skills of the adepti. However, it is indisputable that that trap was made to take Keqing’s speed and combat skills into account. With the help of her vision, she can quite swiftly escape most dangerous situations. The magic trap she was lured into took that into account and effectively prevented her escape, even at her speed,” Ningguang mused and tapped her pipe to the wooden edge of the table beside her. “Curious then, that the adeptus guard was so able to respond accordingly and safe her from the trap before it could be shut around her.”

“That is merely dependant on the skills of our comrades,” Bosacius replied now. “What you mean to say is that you do doubt our prowess. Of course one would be on high alert when guarding a potential suspect.”

“According to the eye witness accounts about the incident, the yaksha was quite desperate while she stayed by Keqing’s side, protecting her until the abyss mage found responsible was apprehended. She even shielded Keqing from the blast when the mage ultimately detonated itself. If you truly suspected the Qixing of misconduct, I do not believe such protective behaviour to be all that likely.”

Bosacius’s frown deepened. “Although we know of the folly, we do not know which members of the Qixing are involved as of yet. We will protect you, in the case it turns out you are innocent, until the investigations are completed.”

“Protect us, hm…” Ningguang repeated, dismissing her pipe. “Well let’s leave that aside for now. Seeing as you are not going to leave, marshal, I see no further reason to keep my guest waiting.”

A blue haired woman stepped out into the open from behind the screen Ningguang sat next to and walked past them stand before the Tianquan. Bosacius had known she was there, but his eyes kept watching the human woman with a sharp gaze as she moved.

Ningguang took a deep breath and straightened. “What are our current numbers, Yelan?”

“There haven’t been reported changes since yesterday: eleven people in total have been confirmed kidnapped,” the intelligence agent reported. They all knew that one of the eleven was already rescued. But due to what they had learnt from that instance, it was determined to be risky for the safety of the other kidnapped people to approach the situation without more solid information. “We have found the location of four out of the remaining ten so far and have a strong suspicions about a fifth one. We secretly enlisted the help of the Feiyun Commerce Guild and received reports from their investigations. They have also noted some unusual activity that might lead us forward.”

“What you mean to say is that at least half of the missing people are still completely unaccounted for,” Ningguang said. This incident was putting their intelligence network into overdrive and it still wasn’t enough. He glanced over her shoulder at Bosacius. “Have the adepti found out anything?”

“We are tracking every abyssal trace we have been able to find,” Bosacius replied. Ever since Menogias had reported to them that Rex Lapis had been confronted by the Abyss and gone missing, the serial kidnapping case had risen to the adepti’s awareness. The official reason was the involvement of the Abyss, discovered after the abduction of the consultant of the Funeral Parlor. Despite their current hostility with the Qixing, the adepti were still under their oaths to protect the people of Liyue and of course wished for the forces of the Abyss to be gone from their territory. “It seems the forces of the Abyss are deliberately staying away from the kidnapped citizens.”

“Have you managed to capture any that have not killed themselves in the process?”

“Yes. But the information they gave us did not include locations.” Bosacius pulled a paper out of thin air and gave it to Ningguang. “These are the new details we have gathered.”

Ningguang took it between her fingers and read it in silence.

“Lady Ningguang, if I may,” Yelan continued, crossing her arms. “We have so far managed to hide which of the locations we have discovered. But the longer this persists, the more danger will all our people on the field as well as the kidnapped be in. We have to pick up the pace.”

Ningguang closed her eyes and folded the paper before handing it to Yelan. “If we recklessly make a show of rescuing the ones we know the locations of, we risk the lives of all those who remain unfound. If we manage to save half of them, only for the other half to face suffering and death, we cannot say we have succeeded.”

Yelan nodded. “I agree. But that doesn’t change that the situation cannot remain as it is. Every hour our gamble becomes riskier. Based on the one already rescued, the conditions which the victims are kept in are not immediately dangerous, but we cannot be certain the same is true for all of them.”

“The adepti will help with the rescues themselves,” Bosacius promised and looked at Ningguang’s pondering form. “But us moving openly will most likely only agitate the enemy.”

Ningguang closed her eyes and entered a moment of deep thought. Four days. Eleven people. One returned. Four awaiting rescue. One potentially discovered. Five completely unaccounted for. Behind her closed eyes, Ningguang could see the slowly flowing sands of an hourglass, gently and silently counting to the moment they’d be too late. But the other half of the hourglass was hidden: she had no idea how much of the sand remained.

“What are your suggestions going forward?” Ningguang asked for confirmation.

Yelan nodded. “Everything comes down to gathering more information. We have left the tracking down of the Abyss to the adepti and the witness interviews to the Guild. Our focus has shifted into tracking down the leaders of the involved treasure hoarders.”

Ningguang raised her eyebrows and then nodded. The leaders of the treasure hoarders had been hiding ever since the first rescue had been made and their gangs had been confirmed to be part of plot. If Yelan’s people managed to find the leaders, they might not be as tight lipped or as eager to off themselves when cornered compared to the abyssal forces. “Do you have leads?”

Yelan smiled. “Just a few more steps and they’ll have nowhere to run.”

“Then make haste. I will see to it the millelith are organized to take action as soon as you report back if a need arises. Marshal Vritras,” Ningguang said, standing up from her chair. “I trust the adepti will receive this updated information post haste.”

“Of course, Lady Tianquan.”

“Oh?” Ningguang teased, walking to the door. “’Lady Tianquan’?” Bosacius grunted, but she only chuckled lightly. “Get your act together, my trusted bodyguard. We have work to do.”

.

The atmosphere on the following day was dense, like there was a lightning storm waiting to happen inside the cavern. Big Shun was angry at Brazem for stabbing his arm (which, honestly: fair enough) and Brazem himself seemed to think that he was the only one taking their assignment seriously enough at the moment. Wo Lang hung back from their arguments, as usual.

Furthermore, something was happening outside the three didn’t know about. There was always some kind of daily message, delivered by a bird or a fellow treasure hoarder, to tell the three what to do, or rather, whether to change their conduct somehow or continue. The message would also update them a little about how the mission was progressing as a whole and how some of their pals in other locations were doing.

Zhongli was ready to guess the treasure hoarders were not supposed to use this message system as a personal “how do you do” network between friends, but he was not about to complain getting more information out of his guards.

The human messenger also always brought fresh food with them, to complement the dry goods on the shelf. As far as Zhongli could tell, they should have received more food yesterday, but the messenger was not showing up. They were not running out of food at the moment, but the three were not permitted to go outside to gather or hunt and had not been rationing the dried goods because they were supposed to have a stable source of food from the outside. There was only so much plain rice and couple of slabs of dry meat Big Shun could eat in his agitated state before growing even angrier.

This coupled up with the lack of information as to what was happening elsewhere, was making all three of Zhongli’s guards teeter on the edge of doing something they’d regret. Zhongli himself was left without a daily meal because Shun saw fit to drop his portion on the floor while passing it through the bars, blaming it on his injured arm. The man’s apology would have carried more weight if he hadn’t said it while grabbing a fistful of the dirty rice and throwing it at Zhongli, saying that it was good enough to eat still. Brazem and Wo Lang dragged him away before he managed another. Zhongli was later given a glass of water, but that was the extent of it.

A missed meal wasn’t at the top of his list of personal problems, however. That would have been his arm. Initially, the thorns had blocked all the wounds and prevented them from bleeding, but now that the bracelet had been jostled, even the slightest movement caused the thorns to move in their sockets, and reopen them. Zhongli was glad he wasn’t weak to seeing or smelling blood, but watching yet another trickle run down towards his fingers did make him wonder what his current tolerance for blood loss was. So far it hadn’t reached dangerous levels, but it definitely wasn’t pleasant. The arm was aching and turning more and more red and purple as time passed, telling him that the wounds underneath the bracelet definitely needed some attention soon.

It was late in the evening, as the three treasure hoarders were getting ready to call it a day, when an abyss mage teleported into the cave. It was a cryo mage, the same one that had attacked Zhongli and aided in bringing him here.

As the mage teleported in, all three men bolted up and into attention, so fast a chair got knocked over in the process.

“Report,” the mage ordered without a greeting.

“Well…” Wo Lang was the one to reply, glancing between Zhongli and his comrades. “Nothing. Sir. No changes here.”

“Would appreciate some food though,” Big Shun grumbled and crossed his arms. “What’s the deal? This is taking way longer than we were told!”

The mage huffed. “Just ants crawling around the place. We have to be careful or they infest everything.” It turned to look at Shun properly and made a low, doubting hum. “Why are you hurt?”

“Just a little brawl with—” Shun started but was immediately backstabbed.

“He lost his cool so I had to stop him from getting violent with the prisoner,” Brazem said, causing both Shun and Wo Lang to gape at him.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Shun snarled at Brazem and looked ready to start an actual brawl.

The mage left them to argue and teleported across the room to the cage. Zhongli had stood up as well when the mage had arrived, more cautiously than the other three. The mage floated in the air in front of him now, looking down at the red stains on his arm and clothes. Zhongli stayed silent and looked back at it, awaiting what would happen.

“I thought we told you not to harm the guests,” the mage silenced the argument happening behind him and the temperature in the cavern chilled as ice started forming around the cryo mage as it turned back to the treasure hoarders.

“Well he was—” Shun started to argue again, but this time he was silenced by barrage of ice that pushed him against the ingredient shelf and froze him against it.

“We want them unharmed until our lord decides what to do with the extras.” the mage said, displeased. “Now listen up unless you want to join them. Tomorrow we will move all the guests to a new location and your part will be done.”

“Huh? But weren’t you still missing some people you wanted?” Wo Lang asked before cowering away and shielding himself behind his arms when the mage turned his attention to him.

“None of your concern. What concerns you is to keep the ants out until we’re ready. One of those bosses of yours got himself caught so we’re running out of time,” the mage almost spat in anger. “When we come back tomorrow, you will get the rewards we see fit, so you’d better work for it. And one more injury on this man when we arrive and you’re all going to be wolf meat!”

Saying that, it disappeared, leaving both Zhongli and the treasure hoarders to digest the words. While the three men got into an argument again as soon as the other two had managed to free Big Shun from his ice shackles, Zhongli was busy planning his next move. He was almost certain that he did not want to be moved to whatever this new location was, but it could have given him a chance to finally see the other prisoners and have a chance to protect them. But he could not count on that. And this… lord that would decide what to do with those he deemed unnecessary… Zhongli was getting the feeling Morax wanted to meet the guy more than he did.

Shun and Brazem were once again taking their argument outside, leaving Wo Lang to watch over Zhongli. As soon as the two were behind the bend of the rock, he ran to the cage and grabbed onto the bars. “What do I do…” Wo Lang mumbled so quietly that Zhongli almost no longer heard it.

Zhongli took a step closer. “I’m sorry?”

The other man looked up to him and reach through to grab his hand again. “What do I do? Aren’t you like, a smart person and stuff? You sounded all sure of yourself yesterday. You said the God of Contracts would hear me out if I really regret stuff, right? They might have caught big brother, I…” He winced and unable to finish his sentences. “And because Big Shun hurt you they might…” His wide eyes dropped to bloodied bracelet around Zhongli’s arm. He looked genuinely terrified. “I don’t want this… You… you want out too, right?” he begged, glancing over his shoulder towards the sounds echoing from the corridor, telling them Brazem was about to win the argument again.

Zhongli took a deep breath. There was one thing he had thought of earlier that was relatively safe from his point of view to do. At least at this point, he had to do something to derail the plans of their captors. And if these “ants” the mage had spoken of included the people he thought, the potential chances of winning had just been raised. From this part onward, it was a gamble.

“I can think of one thing you could do.” He leant in closer to lower his voice to as quiet as possible. Wo Lang’s eyes were glued on him and for a moment Zhongli wondered if his eyes had accidentally started glowing without him realising because of the way the other was looking at him. He detached his right hand from the hold but kept his left one hovering by, to make sure Wo Lang didn’t retract his hands just yet. “This cave is rather cluttered,” he said as he slipped his vision onto Wo Lang’s hands and curled his fingers shut around it. “Do me a favour and take out the trash.”

Wo Lang’s eyes widened and he glanced between the geo vision in his hands once again and Zhongli. “What…. you sure, man?” He did not seem to understand the reason why Zhongli would ask him this. To be fair, in a normal circumstance, a vision holder parting with their vision willingly while they were in a perilous situation, was against common sense. Zhongli of course did not necessarily need his vision at the moment. Not that Wo Lang needed to know that.

Zhongli raised a finger to his lips as mark of secrecy and stepped away, glancing pointedly towards the corridor to make the other pay attention to what his companions were up to. If this worked and Wo Lang managed to take his vision outside the barrier, Zhongli was fairly certain there were people out there who could detect it. It wasn’t without its risks, for either of them, and Zhongli felt a little guilty asking this cornered man to endanger his life for this. But ultimately, it would be Wo Lang’s choice to go through with it: the vision was in his hands now, after all. Zhongli wasn’t supposed to have his vision in the first place, so handing it back to Wo Lang was something with a low risk for the other two to find out, from his point of view.

While Zhongli could not say he trusted the man exactly, the probability was high enough to gamble on. There was always a chance that Wo Lang would manage to take the vision outside, but not far enough to break the barrier. Zhongli was fairly certain his three guards did not know of its existence, after all. He himself did not even know how large of a cave system were they in at the moment or if the three men were permitted to go far enough to breach the barrier in the first place. He trusted Morax to be able to tell him if his gamble had succeeded or not, but after Wo Lang had left the side of his cage, Zhongli’s vision tucked away in his pocket, this matter was effectively out of his hands.

That night, when Brazem and Shun were asleep again, which had taken a long time since all of them were at the edge, Zhongli watched Wo Lang leave his post and slip through the doorway and out of sight.

He curled up around his arm again, but did not close his eyes this time, keeping a sharp eye on the sleeping men and the mouth of the cavern. Morax?

<You realise you have the same authority as me to forgive people, right?> the god spoke to him as the golden veins started pulsing under the dried blood. It actually worked pretty good as way to further hide the glow, Zhongli realised.

Is that important right now? Zhongli sighed a little. Do you think this will work?

<The idea itself is not bad. The adepti will definitely be searching for you. Whether our little helper succeeds in taking the vision out, is another story.>

How far away does the barrier reach?

<It is actually not that big. But the human walking through it will be detected as well. The question is, will they stop him before he can drop off the vision or not,> Morax said. He paused for a moment and then added, sensing Zhongli’s displeasure. <I am sure he understands the risks himself. Yet it was him who decided to do as you said. We cannot accomplish anything in this situation without taking risks.>

Zhongli nodded. He knew that. There was moment of silence between them before a distant echo of Morax’s voice spoke one more time.

<He got it out. Now to see what happens because of it.>

Zhongli felt the god’s presence fade once more, almost completely, and slowly the shining veins on the bracelet dimmed. Moments later, Wo Lang returned and sat down at the table, burying his face behind his palms and refusing to look at Zhongli. Silence spread into the cavern, only broken briefly when Brazem stood up later and took his turn in watch. Zhongli stayed awake throughout the night, waiting for something to happen. Be it the Abyss or someone else to make their move next, he had to be ready to act. What would he do if the abyss mages and perhaps the woman who had put on his bracelet were the ones to appear first? Was it time for him to fight? To reveal himself? Or should he hang back still and bide his time? If he managed to leave this place without revealing himself, he would have exceeded all of his expectations.

But nothing happened that night. If someone had noticed Wo Lang leaving the barrier, they hadn’t taken immediate action. The three men did not sleep long that night, perhaps only a few hours. They were anxious and only spoke about strategy in the case of an attack, otherwise staying quiet and readying their weapons, just in case. Brazem was constantly out of the cavern now, keeping a watch near the entrance from what Zhongli could tell.

The wait was almost stifling, but it was finally broken when Brazem suddenly ran back into the room and started whispering something to the others. That was all Big Shun needed to hear to run out of the cavern, despite Brazem snarling a protest after him, before giving up and ordering Wo Lang to follow the other man out.

When the other two men were gone, Brazem walked to the cage and opened it. Zhongli barely managed to stand up before the man grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled out a dagger. “Stay still,” he grunted and order and pushed Zhongli against the flimsy wall. He raised Zhongli’s healthy arm up and pinned it against bars, striking his dagger down to nail the sleeve of his shirt deep into the wood. He then grabbed Zhongli by the chin. “If this dagger has fallen off by the time we get back, I’m letting Shun have his way with you,” he growled with a low voice before exiting the cage, locking it again, then dashing out of the room, leaving Zhongli on his own.

Zhongli remained still for a moment after the man had left, but then he exhaled and let his sleeve tear against the dagger’s blade enough for him to grab the handle and yank it off the wood. This shirt was a lost cause anyway. If he had managed to remain submissive enough to make Brazem have this low expectations of him, he counted that as a success.

“What do you think?” he asked quietly, tossing the dagger into a better position on his hand as the bracelet around the other gleamed to life.

<I think it is about time we get out,> Morax’s voice said in his head, slightly closer now. He sounded very pleased at the idea but the next second a cold chill ran down Zhongli’s spine as a warning and Morax’s power flared up inside him, feeding energy to his muscles.

The air in front of Zhongli split open into a blue and purple void. A flash of metal cut through the portal on its way out and Zhongli raised up the dagger in his hand to block the incoming attack. A darkened blade of a scimitar clashed against the dagger’s edge and cut a little into the inferior blade. The force of the attack pushed Zhongli’s back against the wooden bars behind him and the entire cage shook at the impact, several beams at the top getting detached from their flimsy bonds and hanging loose overhead, threatening to collapse the cage.

The two blades shivered against one another in the air between Zhongli and the woman he had seen days ago. This time the woman’s previously unreadable eyes gleamed with emotion as she laughed.

“So, you were here after all. You cannot hide from us, Morax,” she chuckled and freed one of her hands from around the handle of her blade. From a ceramic bracelet of her own around her wrist, dark energy bloomed out and licked up her fingers. “And looks like all it took was a big enough gap to wiggle through and enough time to force your pride out of your hiding place.”

Zhongli glanced down at the hand that was pulling back to strike as his own usable one struggled against the push of the blade that was forcing the edges of both weapons closer to his throat. The dark energy he sensed was causing his stomach to twist. As much as he wished he could have used both of his hands to defend himself, he couldn’t close the fingers of his left hand, even with the added energy flowing through him. Morax was the only reason he managed to keep himself alive at the moment, the god’s energy strengthening his muscles enough to stand his ground.

The woman pointed her free palm at his torso and suddenly it dawned on Zhongli what she was about to do. The feeling of a pull on his soul was excruciating. It felt like all his energy was being drained out through his stomach. The blades flinched closer towards his throat before he managed to stop them, gritting his teeth. The woman’s hand was now pressed against his abdomen and lower ribcage, the dark energy snaking its way into his body and pulling on his soul like gravity.

She was trying to force Morax out of his body.

“No…” Zhongli breathed out and he heard in his head the gasp Morax made as he refused the god’s power and forced him out of his mind.

<Wait, stop!> Morax shouted at him before his voice faded and Zhongli gasped in a sharp breath as the pull of the hand eased ever so slightly. The veins on the bracelet, that had been shining brightly with life, dimmed and started to fade.

The woman made a confused and surprised sound and glanced down at the bracelet as well. “What?” she mumbled before her eyes locked onto Zhongli’s. She pressed her left hand more against his stomach while forcing the blades between them to lean against Zhongli’s throat, now that the resistance had been diminished significantly. “Are you playing a hero?” she asked as Zhongli raised his left arm up to prevent the blades from tearing deeper into his skin. The wooden bracelet around his arm was pressed deep against his flesh as it was used to block the blade. She hissed. “Let’s play doctor instead. Be a good boy and allow the good doctor to take this parasite out of you,” she said with a voice that flowed sweet like honey but stung like poison on contact.

Zhongli could not reply. He could barely make out what she was saying. The hand pressed against him felt like it was about to slip inside his body without care for natural restrictions. Despite of it, he had to keep his focus divided between the blades drawing out a line of blood into his skin and the demands of a god who refused to leave him behind.

It was only so many seconds he would manage to hold back both.

Desperate, Zhongli glanced up at the hanging beams of wood atop their heads and grunting out between his teeth to muster enough strength, he kicked his foot back against the bars behind him, wrenching the last hanging bindings off of each other. The woman yelped a little and dodged backwards out of the way of the wooden planks that almost hit her, swatting them aside as the entire cage around them slumped downwards, its ceiling opening up as the walls fell out of balance. Zhongli was given a second to breath more freely as she gathered herself.

Whatever the woman said next turned into a fierce guttural growl and she reached back towards Zhongli with her hand shrouded under the dark glove that kept dripping energy upwards. The scimitar she pulled back in a stabbing position this time, ready to make sure Zhongli no longer would get in her way.

And then suddenly the woman scrambled away from him yet again, this time to dodge a forest of green spears that sprouted at her feet.

Chapter Text

The cage stood no chance of surviving any further damage as the yaksha with a hair of dark and teal crashed through the remains of the ceiling. Xiao landed in front of Zhongli from a high dive, lances made of green energy sprouting from the ground around them both in all direction. The walls of the cage collapsed outwards, away from the blast of energy while the ceiling caved in and wood all around them clattered loudly to the floor. An ominous mask rested over the yaksha’s face and energy was flowing up from all around his body.

Xiao pushed Zhongli a step away from a beam falling from above and grabbed another that threatened to fall over towards them. The woman had dodged out of the way of the spears, stopped by the corner of the cage behind her, before it too started to fall over. She managed to push her way out of the cage she had briefly been turned a prisoner of, then found herself face to face with the adeptus and his weapon.

Xiao threw her back, away all the way to the other end of the cavern where she crashed against the table, breaking it apart, and barely managed to regain her balance before another barrage of energy spears from the ground stabbed through her guard and drew the first blood of the battle. Xiao’s speed was threatening to overwhelm her as the adeptus attacked again, but this time it was Xiao who grunted in pain and retreated after his next attack. The ceramic bracelet feeding black energy around the woman’s hand had left a trace of an impact to dissolve on his skin and for a moment, Xiao’s own energy danced around the woman’s hand before it was absorbed.

“Out of my way, dog!” the woman shouted and attacked first now, slicing towards the torso of the small frame, but made no impact as Xiao jumped high into the air once again, out of her way. This time when Xiao dove down, she was ready, blocking the attack itself, although the sprouting spears again managed to strike her.

A reach of her hand and a dodge out of its way. A fast slice through the air, barely blocked. A swing of the scimitar, striking only air. A forest of spears sprouting from the ground, disappearing without making contact. Blood drawn from the woman but no lethal cuts made, and energy stolen from the adeptus but no faltering in his movements.

“Enough!” the woman decided as the adeptus once more jumped high into the air and out of her reach. She raised her energy covered hand up and grimaced as the darkness flared around it stronger and deeper, trickling upwards towards the adeptus in the air. “Taste our—"

Her angry expression changed into that of shock and she yelped as she lost her balance. The ground beneath her feet churned, moving under her soles and dipping down at her heels. As she staggered and fell, her head turned and eyes met with ones glowing with golden light. “You—”

“Disappear!” Xiao plunged his spear through her stomach, pinning her to the floor as one more forest of spears sprung forth around them. One of them stroke against her bracelet and a high shattering sound could be heard before the black energy exploded outwards like a dark whirlwind.

Xiao grunted in surprise and teleported out of the way of the blast, placing himself in front of his lord. A ball of green energy swirled under his palm and he raised it towards the dark wind, forcing the violent strikes of dark energy to part before they could meet their mark, leaving it to slash against the floor on their sides. A couple of seconds later, the storm of energy dissipated, leaving behind nothing in the cavern besides them, standing in a triangular shape on the floor which’s head rest under Xiao’s shaking hand. The body of a woman had disappeared without a trace.

The mask on Xiao’s face dissipated and he breathed heavily as he allowed both the price of the mask as well as the heavy use of energy from blocking the wind just now to hit his body.

“Xiao?”

He jerked up at the voice and turned around, finding himself way too close to his lord for comfort. Rex Lapis was even reaching his arm closer to support him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes!” Xiao replied quickly and took a step away before he remembered himself and met the eyes his lord. They were no longer glowing. “My lord, we’re so sorry,” Xiao started and bowed his head down. “We have failed to protect you again.”

Rex Lapis looked a little bothered. “Didn’t you just save me? Thank you, Xiao.”

“You were abducted!” Xiao argued against the praise and frustration seeped into both his expression and voice. The red stains on the emperor’s clothes and the fresh drops of blood on his throat were bad enough, but the state of his arm made Xiao’s blood boil. “I was only here moments before it could have been too late! That is unforgivable. And you need not have helped me, I would have won.”

His lord shook his head. “Was it not more efficient for me to lend my aid?”

“My lord, that’s not what—” Xiao started loudly but silenced himself when Rex Lapis raised his hand to quiet him down a little.

“Can you tell me about the situation outside?” Zhongli asked, hoping the adeptus would stop blaming himself after he had only just saved his life. He felt he needed to talk with Xiao at some point when they had proper time, but for now there were more pressing matters to address.

Xiao seemed to collect himself a little and straightened. “The adepti are cooperating with the millelith to free all the abducted citizens. The soldiers are outside, dealing with the treasure hoarders and some hound whelps of the Abyss. They will be here shortly.”

Zhongli frowned. “I’ve heard of plans to abduct sixteen people, including myself. How many were taken in the end? Have you found them all?”

“Eleven were kidnapped in total, my lord,” Xiao replied now fully with the tone and frame of a soldier giving a report. “Nine of them were successfully located, one of which has already been saved before this operation. I’ve received reports of a successful rescue of five others before we managed to track down this hideout. You and one other were the last two where the location could not be determined.” He put a hand into his pocket and pulled out a geo vision. “We had a rough approximation of your location. I was aiding the millelith in scanning the area, when I found this. As soon as we found the sealed door and broke through it, I left the treasure hoarders waiting inside to the millelith and rushed my way here.”

Zhongli was delightfully surprised to see his vision and to hear that it had indeed at least quickened Xiao’s arrival to his rescue. He hoped the millelith were not too hard on Wo Lang and that the treasure hoarder had the incentive to surrender when a chance arose. He took his vision back to himself and it gleamed in his hand, as if it was happy to see him again.

“My lord, we need to get you out of here,” Xiao said now and Zhongli noticed him glancing and frowning at his left arm, which was bleeding profusely again, thanks to it being used as a shield to block a strike from a scimitar. “I will bring you to our healers. They can—”

“You said there was one other beside myself who was unaccounted for, yes?” Zhongli stopped him and shook his head. “All of those people are in danger because of me. They must be found, cared for and reunited with their families. Can you see to it?”

Xiao looked shocked for a second and then his expression clenched in discomfort and defiance. “I am not leaving you alone, my lord.”

Zhongli shook his head. “You won’t be. The millelith soldiers are here, are they not?”

“But—”

“Conqueror of Demons, who am I?”

Xiao looked away and clenched his teeth. “The consultant… of the funeral parlour…”

Zhongli nodded. “Exactly. And a mere consultant is not entitled to an adeptus escort, recently abducted or otherwise, when there are still others to be saved. If we’re lucky, only the woman you defeated knew of my identity. The millelith will escort me back into the city, I will see to it that my injuries are appropriately treated once I am back and I have no family to return to: that is all three of my wishes for the kidnapped ones taken care of for my part.”

Xiao felt like he was starting to lose control of his emotions. “We cannot leave you again. You’re hurt! What if more of the forces of the Abyss show up? What if something else happens? It is our duty to protect you!” He couldn’t believe he was arguing against his god but he needed to voice the opinion of the adepti, no matter the repercussions. If his emperor would punish him later for it, then so be it.

Zhongli sighed and looked away from the emotional adeptus. It wasn’t just Xiao who seemed to be angry with him at the moment. Morax had lend him his power when Zhongli had wanted to aid Xiao in battle, but the god’s cold silence in his mind now was crushing. And very telling.

He conceded. “…Alright.” The way Xiao looked at him with genuine astonishment for listening to his opinion was making Zhongli wonder what the previous emperors had been like. “I will agree to having an adeptus escort. But not as Rex Lapis. I will think of something else.”

Xiao looked at him for a while, stunned and then bowed down. “Thank you, my lord. We will not let you down again.”

Zhongli sighed. “I am not your lord, adeptus Xiao. Please keep that in mind.” He made an amused huff at the way the adeptus bolted upright from his bow and smiled at the yaksha when their eyes met again. “But now that you have decided to stay here yourself, can you at least inform the other adepti that I want all of the abducted ones to be safe and sound?”

“Yes, my… um… Yes,” Xiao stuttered and turned to lead his lord out of this despicable cavern before he got too flustered. Why is he smiling at me again? This Rex Lapis was truly an enigma.

After they exited the cavern, Zhongli now seeing behind this doorway for the first time, a millelith sergeant soon appeared in front of them from the other direction.

“General Alatus,” he said and saluted. “The abyssal hounds have been dealt with and treasure hoarders captured.” He turned to look at Zhongli. “You found him. We cannot thank you enough for your aid, sir.” He came over to him, checking his injuries, frowning at the sight of them. “You are Zhongli, the consultant from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, yes? We apologise for everything you’ve had to go through. But everything will be alright now. You’re safe with us and we will escort you back into the city.”

He started leading Zhongli outside, Xiao following a step behind them. The cave system Zhongli had been kept in was not large, but he could sense traces of the wards Xiao had dismantled on his way, meant to keep the location hidden from prying eyes. If all of the people, or even just a few of them, had been hidden under this many layers of concealment wards, Zhongli had to praise the intelligence work and the adepti for finding as many people as they had.

The short cave network opened to an obscure place between the cliffs, somewhere in the wilderness of Liyue. Zhongli saw his three guards on the ground close by, tied up and under the watchful eye of the millelith. He was pleased to see Wo Lang mostly unharmed. He was led to a soldier who had medical supplies with him and they started to wash his hand and neck off blood.

The medic was looking at his arm with a deep frown. “We will have to remove this wooden shackle to treat it. The wounds are inflamed and he has lost a lot of blood,” he reported to the sergeant who was making a report nearby. “I cannot give this the needed treatment here: he needs to see a doctor right away. I also advice against having him walk back to the city. We should bring him to the nearest road and inform the support squad we need a cart.”

“I can take him back,” Xiao immediately offered instead, then inwardly kicking himself for the glance Rex Lapis sent in his direction.

“General Alatus?” the sergeant asked and put down his pen. “I assure you we can manage here, sir. Was the plan not for you to go aid the other units once we were finished?”

“If I may, the venerable adeptus means he is not finished here,” Zhongli intercepted before Xiao had to. He looked at the adeptus and bowed his head in respect. “I believe you said there was something the adepti wanted to ask of me concerning the Abyss?”

Xiao’s eyes flashed a little but he kept his expression neutral. “Yes. There was an Abyss agent inside the caverns I had to defeat. I have questions to ask from this man.”

“There was?” the millelith sergeant asked, a little shocked. Xiao gave him a crude version of the events to write down in his report while the medic finished doing what he could for Zhongli’s wounds.

The scratch on his neck was not deep, barely counting as an injury. But Zhongli tried not to show on his face how much the wound on his arm ached as the medic cleaned what he could of it. Remembering that Morax had stated the bracelet to be useful for the sake of tracking down their enemies, Zhongli stopped the medic from prying the wood of by cutting the branches. Xiao played along with him as he explained that the adepti wanted to inspect a bracelet while it was still functional and thus it needed to be removed without breaking it for its power to remain intact.

As soon as the medic finished wrapping a towel loosely around his arm to prevent more blood from dropping about while they moved, Zhongli allowed Morax’s power to flow back within him. Under the towel, he knew the bracelet was now shining. Morax was clearly still angry at him, but physically the god’s presence was still soothing: dulling some of the pain and lending strength to his body. Without it, Zhongli would have 100% agreed with the medic that he could not have made it back to Liyue Harbor without help, not for a good while at least. He did not like to admit it, but he had not slept or eaten almost at all the past few days, and that coupled with the loss of blood was not doing him any favours. But even as vexed as he seemed to be, Morax took the chance to immediately aid him when Zhongli allowed his power to flow freely again.

It was agreed that Xiao would teleport Zhongli back to the city, while the millelith would deal with the aftermath of the scene and the treasure hoarders. Zhongli thanked the soldiers one more time, while they kept part apologising for what he had been through, part assuring him that the people responsible would see justice. Then Xiao cautiously placed a hand behind Zhongli’s back and held on to the healthy arm he placed around his shoulders.

The outdoor scenery disappeared behind a flash of green energy. It almost immediately after dispersed and brought them to a new location, to a spot near the edge of Harbor by Mt. Tianheng, well hidden from sight. The teleportation was a new feeling that Zhongli’s body did not quite know how to react to and he was fairly certain that without the divine boost, he would have thrown up.

“My apologies,” Xiao said with a low voice. “The barriers around the palace prevent me from teleporting in. We will take a hidden passageway from here to keep out of sight.”

Zhongli closed his eyes for a while. It seemed Xiao was still misunderstanding. “Bubu Pharmacy will suffice.” He met Xiao’s gaze when the adeptus turned towards him to object. “That would be a normal location to bring an injured person to, yes? Additionally, doctor Baizhu has a dendro vision, which might aid us in removing the bracelet intact.”

Xiao seemed to bite back an argument and nodded, taking better hold of Zhongli again to make sure he was coming along as they moved. He brought Zhongli to the stairs under the pharmacy, shocking a millelith on guard duty and a few passing citizens with their entrance. From there, Xiao instructed the soldier to escort Zhongli the rest of the way, giving a very brief rundown what the situation was, and teleported away. To the citizens it seemed like the adeptus was busy with other duties and simply left, but Zhongli could feel his presence nearby, telling him that he was still being guarded, like they had agreed. A strange sound resembling an exotic bird call also reached Zhongli’s ears, which no one else seemed to hear or at least react to.

<That is Xiao relaying messages to the adepti in the city,> Morax supplied an answer before Zhongli could wonder about the sound more. <Someone else is going to have to fulfil your orders since he is staying by your side.>

I would not say I ordered him exactly, Zhongli mused silently as the millelith soldier was walking him up the stairs, keeping up a professional chatter to keep his mood up. But I suppose Xiao does see it that way. That aside, we should separate again: I need to remove the towel soon. He waited, expecting some kind of reply but there was nothing. Morax? Zhongli felt an uncomfortable weight in his chest as he sensed the god slink back into the depths of his mind in silence. Morax…

The scorn from the god sent a chill down his spine. Zhongli was fairly certain it was his action of forcefully rejecting Morax’s aid that had earned him the cold treatment. But even thinking back to it, he was uncertain what else he should have done to protect the god. Everything had even turned out alright in the end. Or were his decisions regarding the adepti or the bracelet wrong? Was that what this was about? In that case, Morax should have just told him what to do. But instead, he was left with the mental image of Morax simply sending him a glare before turning his back to him. Zhongli tried to shake off the feeling as they reach the pharmacy. He suddenly felt more tired than before. Even aside from the physical weakening that once again had hit him as Morax’s aid had faded, leaving him to almost stumble on the stairs because of the sudden shift. No matter how he tried to justify his own actions or rationalize his decisions, it felt like he had somehow let down the god who he was meant to support and whose expectations he was supposed to meet, first and foremost.

Zhongli forced a smile out to greet doctor Baizhu, explaining his situation and the “adepti’s” wishes with a neutral expression he pulled out from his professional repertoire. He rolled open the towel for the doctor to see and looked quietly at the bracelet himself as the people around him talked and worked. It was only blood and branches, like it was supposed to be at the moment, but suddenly it felt like a physical representation of the cold feeling of distance in his chest.

.

“All eleven people have been successfully rescued, Lady Ningguang,” Yelan reported and she could see the weight roll off the Tianquan’s shoulders as she said that. “The consultant and the young nobleman were successfully located and rescued as well with the help of the adepti soon after the operation started. Unfortunately, there were two casualties among the millelith and a few smaller injuries. Some of the kidnapped were also injured and five of them were somehow caught up in the fighting. But none of their injuries are fatal, based on our most recent reports. They are all being brought back into the city now and some have already arrived,” she said and searched her inventory for a moment. “Here.” She pulled out a paper for Ningguang to see. “This might interest you.”

Ningguang took the paper in her hands and unfolded it. Reading over it for a moment in silence, she looked up at the intelligence agent again. “Is this what I think it is?”

Yelan nodded. “The master of the Feiyun Commerce Guild, the eldest son of the head of the Weng Liu house, the troupe master of the Yun Han Opera Troupe and the consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. These four were most likely among the main targets of this operation. Why them is still mystery we’re trying to solve. Their cases all shared the common trait of higher number of security and concealment wards in their locations and the appearance of abyssal creatures as the rescue operations started. Also: these.” Yelan pulled out a slightly red-stained bundle of fabric and unwrapped it atop of her palm before setting it down on the table before Ningguang. Underneath the cloth were pieces of thin branches with thorns. “All of the aforementioned four had these around their left forearms. This one was detached from the arm of Miss Yun Jin after her rescue. It seems to have been attached to their arms using powers from a dendro vision, meant not to be removed without the user’s say-so. We haven’t been able to figure out their purpose so far, but that might change once I get the chance to meet with the victims.”

Ningguang inspected the dead pieces of wood with a calculating look and the back of her artificial nails slid against her chin as thoughts ran through her head. She reached out her hand and let her finger run down the edge of a stack of paper for a second before she reached within the stack and pulled out a report, placing it aside the one Yelan had given her. “Then I am guessing myself, Keqing, uncle Tian and captain Beidou were meant to be among these main targets as well. Based on the information we manage to gather previously.”

“It would appear so,” Yelan affirmed and nodded again. “There seems to have been a team dedicated to capture all the others from a much larger list of people, taken if the opportunity arose. There was meant to be one decoy for every main target but it looks like it didn’t really matter who that was. According to the treasure hoarders we captured, the masterminds of this operation were getting frustrated of not being able to trap you or Lady Keqing and the Tianshu being nowhere to be found.” She smiled a little smugly. “As if finding uncle Tian was easy when he wants to stay out of sight.”

Ningguang hummed a little in agreement. “And I suppose captain Beidou’s capture has failed thanks to her being out on her voyage, if not already behind the storm veil around Inazuma. That captain does seem to possess the talent to slip out of trouble when it is not her herself actively causing it,” she mused half aloud before straightening and glanced over her shoulder to the current yaksha guard assigned to her while Bosacius was out participating in the rescue operation. “I suppose I should thank my most vigilant bodyguards for not being subjected to this… dendro contraption myself. Might I suppose this to mean I am soon to be free of your company?”

The yaksha’s face twitched a little. “I am not the one to make that decision, Tianquan.”

Ningguang sighed. “Of course.” She turned to Yelan again. “Your next move?”

A while later, Yelan walked up the stairs to Bubu Pharmacy. According to her sources, one of the recently rescued main targets had been brought here by one of the five guardian yaksha to receive treatment earlier today. The afternoon was slowly turning into the evening and although the person she wanted to meet had been among the first to return to the capital, if her information was accurate, he was still here.

Introducing herself as someone gathering testimonies about the case, she was led to a small backroom of the pharmacy where patients were at times treated. Doctor Baizhu had apparently left a while ago after finishing the treatment, so Yelan was greeted by the consultant and to her surprise, a tall man wearing a one-sleeved hanfu, tattoos all the way down his arms. He had light long hair with various feathers dangling from it, looking like they were growing from his hair rather than attached to it. An adeptus.

“Mr. Zhongli, I presume?” Yelan started after a simple greeting, keeping her voice soft to avoid causing the man stress with her presence. “I am Yelan. I work for the Ministry of Civil Affairs. Could I bother you with a few questions?”

The consultant, who had been leaning back on his chair, sat up straight to greet her. “Of course. How may I help you, Miss Yelan?”

Yelan gestured him to remain seated. “Please, there is no need to be uptight with me. You’re injured: get some rest and recover from your experiences. I only have a few questions.” Her eyes wandered to the bandage around the man’s arm, which seemed innocent enough, as the consultant complied and settled more comfortably again. Her gaze moved next to the adeptus, bowing her head down slightly in respect as their eyes met. “I was not expecting to meet an adeptus on my visit.”

The adeptus with feathered hair gave her a little nod as a greeting. “I am a healer. I came to assist Dr Baizhu in removing an enemy object from this man’s arm and to retrieve the item in question.”

“I’m assuming you speak of the dendro bracelets given to some of the victims,” Yelan confirmed and glanced down at the consultant’s arm again. “The other bracelets we encountered could easily be broken off. Was there a problem?”

“The others were rendered useless as they were broken. We wished to retrieve the item intact in order to examine it closer,” the adeptus replied and turned look at Mr. Zhongli as well. “It was unfortunately a long process, but we did manage in the end. I was about to excuse myself as you arrived. That is, as soon as I manage to convince Mr. Zhongli here to rest properly.”

The consultant sighed. “And I have promised to do so. You have already healed the worst. With the bracelet detached, I am a lot better.”

“I disagree,” the adeptus replied firmly. “It is not only your injury I speak of when I recommend that you rest. It is fatigue caused by blood loss, malnutrition and sleep deprivation. Especially considering how long it took for us today to finish your treatment, added on top of your time in captivity, I recommend some serious time to unwind in a safe place.”

Yelan raised her eyebrow curiously at the tired look Mr. Zhongli sent to the adeptus at the healer’s enunciation. But there was also another thing that had caught her interest. “You managed to acquire a working bracelet from this incident then?”

“Yes. As long as it took,” the adeptus replied, looking up at her again.

“May I see it?”

Seeing an intact bracelet instead of some detached branches gave Yelan a much better indication of this item’s nature. That and the traces of energy she sensed within the object. The branches were now on a loose coil, coerced to part from one another, wide enough to be slid off a human arm. The adeptus did not allow her to touch it or inspect it for long sadly. After giving her a minute to look at the bloodied item that hadn’t entirely dried yet, the healer told them both goodbye and left, taking the bracelet with him.

“Now then,” the consultant said and Yelan realised that as soon as the adeptus had left, he was sitting up straight again. “What is it that you wanted to ask of me?”

“Right. First of all, our investigation told us that the Feiyun Commerce Guild received a tip that the Abyss might have been involved with the case very early on into this whole incident,” Yelan started, studying the consultant’s reactions. “That tip apparently came from you.”

The man nodded without hesitation. “I did indeed warn young Chongyun of my suspicions. I’m assuming you wish to know how I acquired that information?”

Yelan listened to consultant talk, quietly, as he told her about how someone had broken into his house and he had started his own investigations based on the traces of energy he had sensed. She knew of the break-in case, having come across it during their investigations on the abducted. As Yelan continued to listen to his reasonings, she realised she found the man difficult to read: not being entirely sure was he telling the truth or a well fabricated story. He did add in the end that much of his conclusions were based on speculations or rumours, but he had deemed the threat potential enough to warn the young exorcist about it. She had no reason to distrust Mr. Zhongli of course, but it was annoying to her that she could not tell what it was about him that nagged the edge of her thought process. “That did indeed somewhat speed our investigations along. Thank you.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“Do you know why you were kidnapped?” Yelan asked next. This was the first of the main targets she got to interview, so her expectations were high.

The consultant exhaled slowly and was silent for a spell, looking somewhere far away in thought. He then frowned for a split second before speaking again. “As far as I’ve understood, they were looking for a specific person,” he said, closing his eyes. “They were unsure who exactly this person was, so they kidnapped the potential candidates. The bracelets they gave us were supposed to help them identify the right person, apparently by tracking their energy.” He was silent for a moment longer, before meeting Yelan’s gaze. “The only person I could think of to fit this method of searching and the length they were willing to go for them, is Rex Lapis. But when I questioned them about it… I received no answer.”

Yelan touched his chin in thought and digested the man’s words. So, Rex Lapis’ absence really did seem to be the reason behind this incident. Yelan had already been 100% sure the adepti knew more than they were letting on: their eagerness to help with the case and their act around the Qixing, many of whom were meant to be the main targets, told her as much. But was it the plan of the adepti themselves or…?

“This is only my speculation,” the consultant continued as she didn’t pose another question. “But it is possible there was something they had in mind where they would have needed all of their targets at once or that this something could only be done a limited number of times. Therefore, the reason to narrow down the options. I was told a day before our rescue that we were to be transferred to a new location, somewhere they no longer needed the treasure hoarders as guards. If that was possible from the start, I do not see the reason to keep decoys off the tails of the main targets for so long and raise the risk of them being found. My guards repeatedly talked about how the whole operation was taking longer than it was supposed to. My guess is they were waiting for all the main targets to be captured to start the next phase of their operation. What that phase might have been, I do not know. But my guards were instructed to not harm me or face harsh penalties, and there was also something ‘a lord’ was to do with the people deemed to be ‘extras. This all points to a plan meant to continue or expand beyond simply finding one person.”

Yelan looked deep into the eyes of the consultant as he spoke. Her intuition was tingling. This was not simply someone throwing out ideas at random, hoping to be of some use to her, nor did he seem to be tired or stressed despite his experiences. She saw in his demeanour someone who knew what they were talking about and were ready to argue their case. The gleam of intelligence in his eyes told her of a person who was both insightful and observant. The consultant had never been on her list of people of interest, but right at this moment, he was quickly earning a title of someone Yelan did would rather not have on her bad side if she had choice.

“Thank you for your insight,” she said politely. “You have certainly given this a lot of thought.”

“I’ve had time to sit and ponder it the past few days.”

She opened her mouth to reply when a single loud knock turned their attention to the door. It opened without anyone waiting for a reply from them and Yelan’s eyes widened at the sight of the four-armed large man standing in the doorway.

“I am sorry to interrupt,” Bosacius said, filling up the doorway. His voice what that of a military man relaying orders, not someone who was truly sorry about barging in. “I am here to escort this man here to the Imperial Palace.”

Mr. Zhongli’s eyes widened. “…I’m sorry?”

Bosacius crossed his arms, all four of them. “It has been decided that all the victims of the kidnapping incident will be living in the palace until the case is fully solved. The adepti will ensure their safety until we can be certain this incident will not repeat and they won’t be kidnapped again.” There was a frown that appeared on Mr. Zhongli’s face, which the adeptus glanced at before adding. “Their families will be allowed to stay with them during their stay.”

The consultant sighed. “I suppose that is a smart course of action. I was prepared to stay at an inn for the time being, considering I believe my apartment might still be a mess at the moment. But I wasn’t expecting a lodging quite as fancy as this…” He sent a look to the general yaksha that gave Yelan the impression the consultant had given up on something. Mr. Zhongli bowed his head to the adeptus. “I shall comply to this invitation.”

Bosacius smiled and nodded. “We were not about to let you decline. I am in a hurry, so we are leaving immediately.” He sent a look at Yelan. “If you have something further to discuss with this person, you will have to wait until later. We must arrange this swiftly.”

Yelan bowed, assuring it was fine and watched as the yaksha lead Mr. Zhongli out of the room. The consultant looked over his shoulder and bid her farewell, apologising for the abrupt end to their conversation. Yelan’s eyes lingered in the way the yaksha’s hands shielded the man as they walked down the hallway and how the yaksha ordered someone visiting the pharmacy out of their way. A thought crossed her mind that had her raise a hand to her mouth and remain there in the room in silence for a moment, before she ultimately pushed it aside. She should not speculate too much or act on it without evidence. And besides, even, or rather especially if her intuition was right, perhaps she should keep it to herself for now.

Outside, Bosacius wasted no time to utter a quick apology under his breath before he grabbed Zhongli to his arms and they both disappeared from Bubu Pharmacy’s main entrance into a flash of purple. The electricity travelled across the air like a horizontal lightning, although silently without making a sound. At its eventual end point in the air above the palace, the two of them popped back into the world with a flash of electro. Bosacius dropped through the multi-layered barrier around the palace and landed on a courtyard within, kicking up a cloud of dust around them.

As soon as Zhongli had gotten over his shock which had given him barely enough time to register what had just happened, he raised his hand over his eyes and sighed. “Was that necessary?” he asked, trying to not get too bothered that he was still on the yaksha’s arms— no, no, it was definitely bothering him. “Let me down, please…”

“From our point of view, yes,” Bosacius replied, carefully putting Zhongli down to stand on his own two feet again. “May we talk freely?”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows and glanced up at the barriers that made the sky look slightly more yellow than it should have been. “Have the other kidnappees been brought here already?” Bosacius shook his head and Zhongli took a deep breath. “Then I suppose we may.”

Bosacius brought a palm over his heart and bowed down to him. “My lord, we have complied with all of your requests regarding the other victims of the kidnappings. Please excuse us taking liberties in seeing them through.”

Zhongli shook his head. “It’s alright. This is not bad plan by any means. And thank you, for all you’ve done so far.”

“Do not thank us, your majesty,” Bosacius growled and straightened. “We have our pride as Liyue’s guardians and realise how incompetent and pathetic we have been in handling this situation. We should have been able to protect your predecessor, not to mention yourself, and found ways to handle the situation in Liyue and face our enemies without your guidance. We have been nothing but a disgrace and must atone for our mistakes.”

Zhongli raised his hands, trying to calm the yaksha down. “Please, do not say that. We must keep our heads if we are to deal with this situation effectively. For now, things are under our control and that is enough. We can discuss everything else at a later date if you so wish.” He turned towards the presence of another he could sense close by still. “Could you come here, Xiao?”

As soon as he had uttered the name, the Conqueror of Demons materialized with a green flash and knelt down in front of him. “Yes, my lord?”

Zhongli frowned. I guess kneeling is just something I have to get used to… He shook the disdain off his face before the adepti could interpret it as something they needed to be concerned about. “Did you listen to the conversation between Ms. Yelan and I?”

Xiao nodded and stood up. “I heard everything you said.”

“Good. The speculations I mentioned will be the core assumption we will act upon for now. Please relay them to the rest of the adepti,” Zhongli asked and waited for Xiao to nod before turning to Bosacius. He did his best to stay on work mode for now, because standing next to the head of the Liyue’s army and be the one expected to lead the conversation felt incredibly foreign to him. He kept reminding himself that he was simply responsible for distributing Morax’s tasks for the team for now to concentrate. “As soon as all the kidnapped ones are safe and taken care of, there is a lot of work we must do. For now, we have for the first time taken the initiative for ourselves.”

Bosacius was surprised. “We have, my lord?”

Zhongli nodded and raised his fingers to rub his chin. “Yes. With Morax’s help, I am now able to locate their concealment wards. In other words, their stealth tactics have become ineffective against me. And thanks to the intact bracelet we obtained, I can also detect other types of energy they use. The woman Xiao defeated may have been the bracelet’s creator, but lots of other types of energies were used to make it function as well. Those will serve as a point of reference for me to find out where our enemies are hiding. If we have the time, we could also train other to sense those energies. I doubt they expect either of these things.”

Bosacius and Xiao looked at each other, for a few seconds, contemplating his words.

“Are we to prepare for war, my lord?” Bosacius asked with a low tone, standing up straight and ready.

“Uh…” Zhongli couldn’t stop the little uncertain grunt that escaped from him as he realised that he could indeed order them to do that. “I am hoping it will not turn out to be something as big as that, but… yes.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I suppose a battle is inevitable.”

Bosacius’s eyes flashed a little and Xiao’s aura changed slightly as well. “We shall start our preparations immediately.”

“Settling the kidnapped and their families temporarily into the palace comes first,” Zhongli reminded them. “I will—”

“Rest,” a new voice interrupted them and Zhongli turned around to see an old lady walk up to them across the courtyard. Her name silently came into Zhongli’s mind. “My lord, you must rest,” Madame Ping repeated, emphatically. “Didn’t Storm Chaser already speak to you of this? You promised him you would allow yourself some time to heal.”

Zhongli instinctively bowed a little to the elderly woman before he realised that he was not expected to do that, although Ping seemed less bothered about than what Xiao would have. “I remember. And I promise not to overdo it. But please, there is no reason to fret. Now that the bracelet is gone, I can sustain myself with Morax’s power enough to combat any fatigue.”

Madame Ping shook her head and walked the last few steps closer to take Zhongli’s hands in her own. “No. We know that as Rex Lapis you are far more resistant to many things that plague humans. But your power does not negate the problem. It only increases your resistance to it. Even a god’s tolerance has an upper limit and you are very new to your powers. Please do not push yourself to the breaking point, my lord. And allow us to worry for you.”

Zhongli stood in place, stunned for a moment, and felt the warmth of the hands in his. “I…” he started and looked away. “I see what you mean. I’m sorry… I will take a moment to rest.”

Madame Ping smiled at him warmly and Zhongli saw from the corner of his eye that Bosacius gave the old adeptus a thumbs-up what he must have thought was in secret. Ping explained to him how they had prepared all the people coming to the palace rooms to stay in in the guest quarters. Zhongli would also stay in there for now, as to not raise suspicions about why he alone would receive a room elsewhere. As he was led to this new room of his, he received further explanations on how there was an empty room separating him from his closest neighbour, officially reserved for his “family” as it were, and how the adepti had set extra wards to protect against potential eavesdropping as well. This was all so that the adepti and him might communicate in peace in his quarters if need be and for added safety.

He met many adepti along the way to the guest quarters of the palace, who came to see him immediately when they noticed him. Zhongli was a little taken aback at how relieved they seemed to be to finally meet and speak with him. Some even welcomed him home, to which Madame Ping jokingly added that the room he would stay in for now wasn’t exactly what he should have expected his personal quarters to be like when they could finally put this threat behind them. A while later, when Zhongli looked around the spacious room filled with expensive pieces of furniture and decorated with art that most likely would have cost Zhongli his monthly salary, ‘home’ was very far away description in his mind. He wasn’t against extravagant life styles; in fact, he was quite particular what kind of things he owned. But none of this stuff was “his”.

Zhongli ran his fingers across the smooth, lacquered wood of the desk. This truly is a “guest” room… that is exactly what I feel like.

“Is it not to your liking, your majesty?” the teapot spirit floating nearby asked, a little worriedly.

Zhongli quickly smiled at the adeptus to not appear ungrateful. “No, not at all. It’ll… simply take me some time to get used to this.” He glanced at the arguably comfortable looking chair and gestured towards it. “May I?”

The teapot spirit looked between the chair and Zhongli, utterly confused, tilting its head. “…Of course you may, your majesty.”

Zhongli realised by the title how stupid his question was. “Ah… I suppose that’s true.”

Madame Ping chuckled. “Take your time. We will gather and help the other victims while you rest. And the yaksha are perfectly capable of preparing the troops for battle, even all secretly, as rowdy as they can be at times,” she promised and bowed her head down to him. “If there is anything you need, you need but call for us.”

Zhongli nodded. “I will. Thank you. If there is anything you’d need from me in turn, please do not hesitate to come and see me.”

“Of course,” Ping said and backed up to the door with the teapot spirit and prepared to close it. “In other words, if we are not disturbing you, you can rest assured that things are progressing smoothly and you can relax.”

Zhongli smiled to her but let it drop as the door closed and he sat down on the chair. He tried to take a relaxing position and sighed, closing his eyes. He understood what the elderly adeptus had explained to him about relying too much on a god’s power to recover, but it also meant that he had been forced out of his work mindset. Resting didn’t usually make him calmer. Perhaps a break in a form of a stroll in the streets of Liyue or a cup of tea in a restaurant somewhere might have done the trick, but simply leaving work entirely to others to simply rest was not something he usually did. If he had actually felt tired (other than mentally), maybe it would have been easier, but he was truly feeling quite alright physically. As unpleasant as it had been to watch and especially listen to the wet branches and thorns finally rise off his skin earlier, now that he had received treatment and more over was free to use Morax’s power again, he had forgotten at times that his arm was injured.

Speaking of Morax, Zhongli suddenly realised that he was standing now and opened his eyes. He was in the familiar little room that opened into the everlasting night of the stone garden, by the table he and Morax usually sat next to while discussing their plans.

Zhongli sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I did it again…”

“No,” Morax’s voice immediately said and he turned around, jolting a little when he realised how close the god was standing to him. “This time I called you here.”

Morax’s low tone was making a shiver run down Zhongli’s spine. The god had barely talked with him that day, even when it had been possible or when Zhongli at times had asked him direct questions. Now seeing the burning glow in the eyes between the strands of hair, under the shadows of the hood, served as a clear reminder that he had done something that had extremely displeased the god. Zhongli had known that, and it wasn’t like he could have forgotten about it, but seeing it was different beast.

“Morax—” Zhongli started but breathed back in any continuation when Morax grabbed a fistful of his shirt and brought their faces an inch away from each other and he was forced to look the god in the eyes.

Morax grit his teeth and his eyebrows knitted together. “I called you here. And I am not letting you leave, until we clear some things up.”

Chapter Text

Zhongli’s mouth felt dry. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked, wondering was he on the verge of becoming the first ever emperor Morax stripped of a title before he even officially had it.

“Tell me,” Morax said after taking a steadying breath, in an effort to not sound quite as angry. “Why is every emperor different, even though I am always there?”

Zhongli bit his teeth together lightly and closed his eyes to escape the god’s gaze for even just a few seconds. “Because you let every person you choose… decide for themselves what kind of emperor they want to be.”

“And since when has it been like that?” Morax asked further and tugged a little on the collar he held to make Zhongli look at him again.

Zhongli complied and thought back to the history books he had read. “Since… the beginning?”

“Since the very first emperor I chose,” Morax confirmed and as he continued, his eyes narrowed. “Then answer me this. Can an emperor disobey me? Can they go against my will?”

Being on the receiving end of Morax’s displeasure, Zhongli couldn’t imagine an emperor would willingly do that. But history told him otherwise. “Yes. You’ve reprimanded emperors in the past for their poor conduct. And dismissed two entirely. The 6^th and 17^th Rex Lapis.”

“That’s right. The 6^th abused his position of power, treating people poorly for his own gain or amusement. He was an incredibly smart man and skilled at negotiation and trade. At the time, Liyue was at a financial low point, which is why I chose a person who I thought could help bring the nation back to financial stability,” Morax recounted. “After a while, I realised his tendency to test the limits of his newfound authority: to see what he could have especially the adepti do on his orders. I talked with him about my concerns over the kind of toxic environment he slowly created within the palace multiple times. So, until things dipped past my threshold of patience and tolerance, why do you think I never once took control over the things he said or orders he signed? Why did I have him face me through another vessel to answer for the things he had done, instead of simply stopping him?”

Zhongli had never really thought about it like that. Why had there been “bad” emperors? Previously he might have simply said that it was impossible to know how the God of Contracts chose to operate exactly at a given time or refused to pass judgement without having all the facts. But now that he had personal experience, it definitely started to strike him as a little odd.

“The 17^th emperor was a soldier,” Morax continued when Zhongli didn’t answer his question. “A fierce leader who commanded respect with both her skills in combat and sheer aura of presence. She was a free soul who rarely took part in direct governance, opting instead to go on expeditions and monster exterminations in the wild, side by side with the adepti and the millelith, and leaving meetings and paperwork for others to deal with. So: do you know why she lost her title?”

Had this been a different kind of situation, Zhongli would have enjoyed discussing history with Morax. He had read many books himself, but hearing straight from such a direct source would have been both intriguing and engaging. Would have. “From what I’ve read,” he answered now instead. “She neglected her duties and went adventuring instead of governing the nation.”

Morax nodded. “I do not demand my emperors to take heavy part in governance if they do not wish to do so. But there are certain things only the emperor can do. Despite the multiple times me and others talked with her, she chose her own prowess over her responsibilities. She caused financial instability by neglecting to create Mora, created piles of paperwork by being absent which then hindered the work and projects of others and broke countless traditions by leaving things to her proxies. Ultimately, I decided to let her go when she skipped the Rite of Descension despite my demands, thus breaking the terms of the Contract between myself and Liyue.”

He let go of the shirt and brought his hands up to weave through Zhongli’s hair by the temples. “Do you know why I am telling you this?” Morax asked, pressing their foreheads together and held onto Zhongli to keep him there as he spoke. “Do you understand, that even when the situation is dire, you are always the one in control. You have the right to reject my aid.” Morax’s breath shook and his fingers pressed hard against the scalp. “The vessel is always the one who makes the final decision and if you deny me, all I can do is watch. It is not about me being able to take over for you: I am, but I can’t. Just like I couldn’t make the 6^th say the right words or direct the 17^th‘s steps back towards Liyue on her excursions, I can’t take full control over your body or command you by force.” Morax had closed his eyes, his frustration dripping between his teeth as he spoke. “It is against. The contract.”

Zhongli felt a burn of guilt inside, but couldn’t fully come to regret his decision back in the cave to push Morax away from the pull of that strange bracelet. “She was after you. You are the one they hunt. What else was I supposed to do, but to protect you from them?”

“There were other things we could have tried,” Morax said harshly now, raising his voice. “Things that didn’t include you pushing me away! What would you have done if Xiao had not come?!” His eyes turned distant for moment, like he wasn’t looking at Zhongli anymore, even though he was right there. “It’s different with you than it was last time. It was supposed to be different. This time I could have been there with you. I could have tried something,” Morax muttered and his focus returned to Zhongli. “I told you that as long as I am with you, I cannot die. If you wanted to save me, how was getting yourself killed going to help! If you don’t let me, I can’t protect you!”

Zhongli bit his teeth and grabbed Morax wrist to loosen the hold on his head. “If I didn’t shield you, then she would have—”

Morax growled sharply and his eyes flashed brightly, as if someone had blown on the embers of a fire, leaving Zhongli to blink at the sudden light, only to realise, he was no longer in the little room.

It was dark. Everything was dark. His body was lying on a cold, wet surface and it felt like something heavy was all around him, compressing his every movement. It hurt. Every little movement was painful. At least Zhongli felt his body moving, but he had no control over what he tried. His hand was reaching forward, trying to grasp something he couldn’t see or perhaps he was simply trying to crawl forward and escape the pain.

Something was here. He could sense something was in the darkness with him. Watching him. Something that he knew was preparing to tear him apart.

“Please go.”

Though his lips moved, the voice wasn’t his. Something warm filled his mouth with every breath and his breathing rasped against it.

“You cannot… stay here. You have to leave.”

Talking was painful. His body struggled to get up but its strength was fading.

“Please… I beg of you…”

The request from his own mouth was directed at Zhongli himself. He felt the desperation of the one moving his body and the tears he could not wipe away burned against his cheeks.

“You have to escape. You can, right? You must.”

Zhongli did not want to go. He tried to reach out to his own body, but could only catch onto a shaking thread that threatened to snap at his touch.

“Please, I beg of you… Morax. Please… go.”

Zhongli gasped for a breath as light returned to his eyes and he felt he was himself again. His body shook at the impact of the vivid memory that had been shared with him and he reflexively took a steadying step, thinking he was about to fall over. He couldn’t help but twist his fingers around, just to feel them moving as he commanded. Morax’s head had dropped to rest against his shoulder. The hands around his head had loosened.

“Consider for a second…” Morax spoke with steadier and quieter voice. “…how I feel.”

Zhongli tried to gather himself now that his brain was realising that his experience in the darkness wasn’t his own and there was no reason to panic. Even as he did, he realised he didn’t know what to say. “…I’m sorry,” he managed.

“I don’t need you to be sorry,” Morax growled with a low tone from his throat. “I need you to understand that you are not replaceable. I meant it when I said your competition had no chance against you.” He sighed. “I know it makes you uncomfortable to be treated like an emperor should. That you don’t want people to know. But after today it is best we assume that our enemies know of you already. So, from now on, even if we do not tell the people of Liyue yet, accept the help the adepti want to give you.” Morax raised his head and looked him in the eyes again. “And never stop me from helping you again like that. I cannot demand this off you as per my contract. It is just… a request. So… please.”

Zhongli took a slow breath and squeezed his eyes shut, a frown forming between them. He knew Morax was right. Had Xiao not shown up today, he might have personally experienced that dark space he had briefly visited in the god’s memories. He had realised back when the woman had attacked, that at the face of all these beings of power and monsters of the Abyss, he was weak. Alone, there was nothing he could do. In his mind he understood that this was not something he could deal with on his own. But feeling this inadequate, this unprepared, was like a chain around his neck. When was the last time he had been this out of his depth? Be it Hu Tao, the adepti and now Morax: time and time again, he was causing more work or worry for others. He knew relying on others was the right thing to do, but… he wished there was some way he himself could have been useful as well. This entire situation was unfair. To him, to Morax, to the previous Rex Lapis… None of them had wanted things to turn out like this.

“I promise,” Zhongli said after a long moment of silence and opened his eyes to look into the dimly shining ones again. This wasn’t the time to wallow. Too much depended on Zhongli getting himself together. “Morax… please lend me your aid. I cannot do this alone.”

“No one expects you to. If nothing else, I am here,” Morax replied, muttering a little exasperated, but his shoulders had relaxed when Zhongli had spoken up. He took a deep breath. “Two years.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Morax exhaled slowly and pressed his forehead against Zhongli’s again. He sounded tired now. “After we can put all this behind us and finally hold the Rite of Ascension… give yourself two years. Give me two years. And if you by then still do not feel you’ve found your place… I will allow you to retire.”

Zhongli’s eyes widened. Morax would… what? The weight of such a promise, and how unprecedented this kind of arrangement was, was not lost on him. His thoughts were swimming. No emperor had ever retired for a reason like that, not in public knowledge at least. Hadn’t Morax stated that it was even rare for him to find a vessel he could freely talk with? He would… give that up? Even if Zhongli was an emperor for only a few years, it would forever change how people viewed him if he were to return to his old life. But…

“Thank you,” Zhongli whispered, breathless, unable to deny the weight that fell off his shoulders. One he hadn’t even realised was such a heavy portion of everything else. Testing something for a few years before deciding, rather than committing to it for the rest of his life right away… Maybe he could do this.

Morax smiled a little and let go of him. “You should go back.” With his words, the white mist rose around them. “This isn’t really resting, after all. Best not let the adepti down. They’ve looked forward to being with you, after all.”

“Being with you, you mean,” Zhongli mused back, but Morax shook his head.

“I may be here, but I gave up my form long ago. It is only you they can be with. And since our union, to the world you are me,” Morax explained through the mist as his voice grew distant and he gradually disappeared from sight. “You are my voice and will. Rex Lapis is always one person in the end, to all but the two of us. Even the adepti.”

Zhongli’s consciousness surged up from the depths into the light and his eyes opened with a snap, his body demanding a breath from him as his consciousness returned. He was slightly out of breath and it felt like his muscles around his chest and neck were stiff, but otherwise he felt alright.

Suddenly a hand entered his field of vision, softly reaching out to touch his fingers that had clenched against the armrest. Surprised, Zhongli raised his head enough to see a woman in blue clothes and the healer who had helped Baizhu earlier with Zhongli’s bracelet.

“You’re back. Did you have a nice trip?” Bonanus asked, a little jokingly but her tone was soft. She was crouching next to his chair. “Welcome back, my lord.”

She withdrew her hand when Storm Chaser knelt down with a sigh and reached out towards Zhongli. “This is not what I meant by resting, Rex Lapis,” he reprimanded him a little, pressing his palm against Zhongli’s chest. A feeling of lightness, like a refreshing breeze inside the chest, spread outwards from where the healer touched. “Please tell me this wasn’t your intended extent of it.”

Zhongli felt an urge to move the healer’s hand away and say he could deal with this level of strain on his own, but he stopped himself, reminding himself what he had just promised Morax. “I will rest, like I promised. Some things just… couldn’t wait.” Getting himself on the right mindset to work, he looked between the two adepti. “Why have you come to see me? Did something happen?”

Bonanus shook her head. “I came to deliver you some things I gathered from your apartment. A few sets of clothes and some other things I thought might make you feel more at home here.” She looked over her shoulder and gestured towards the small pile of clothes on the bed and a set of books on the table. Zhongli had earlier received a change of clothes in the pharmacy to get rid of the ones worn out and bloodied in captivity, but changing into something of his own would be nice. “I did knock, but since you didn’t answer I thought you might have been asleep. So, I decided to slip these in real quiet like. But then I noticed you were soul diving instead.”

“At which point, she came to ask me what we should do, since you looked like you were uncomfortable,” Storm Chaser ended the explanation. “It has taken a toll on you before, so we decided to stay with you, just in case.”

Zhongli sighed a little and leant back, trying to relax. “I’m sorry to trouble you. I am still unaccustomed to many things.”

“No trouble at all,” Storm Chaser responded, nodding. “Rather, do not hesitate to come to me whenever you need.”

“I’d say we’d feel more troubled if we couldn’t help,” Bonanus said and stood up, walking over to the books she had set on the table and started lining them up more neatly on a shelf.

Zhongli thought back to Morax’s words, wondering if he truly understood the relationship between Rex Lapis and the adepti. “How are things outside?” he asked, while signalling to Storm Chaser that he was alright now.

The healer retreated his hand, but stayed beside him. “It has barely been an hour since you arrived. Some of the people have arrived at the palace and some are being escorted here by the adepti as we speak. I’ve been here to treat any wounds they might have.” He looked over his shoulder.

Bonanus caught his glimpse and added what she knew. “My brothers are working on the battle preparations as we speak. Indarias and I have been delivering messages to get everyone up to speed what’s going on.” She made a satisfied huff at the work with the books she had done and looked at it for a few seconds before turning around. “Speaking of, I should go bail my brothers out before they get too excited. By your leave, your majesty.”

She sounded happy. Storm Chaser stood up as well and repeated his request for Zhongli to properly rest before they both excused themselves and left. Just before the door closed, he was promised that someone would soon bring him something to eat. Zhongli sighed and leant on his palm, leaning against the armrest. Despite having received more healing just now, somehow, he felt more tired than before. His sense of duty was nagging him to get up and get something done, but his body resisted. He was getting the feeling Morax might have had something to do with that…

<What’s the point of giving you more energy when we want you to sleep?> Morax all but confirmed his suspicion, making Zhongli jump a little, having not expected the god to talk with him again. Morax breathed out a laugh. <That bed isn’t going to eat you up, you know.>

“I know, I know,” Zhongli mumbled a reply and stood up, making his way over to the neatly set and luxurious looking bed. Sitting down, he realised it was even softer than it looked, Zhongli couldn’t stop his fingers from running against the silken fabric to feel the texture of the sheets. He shouldn’t have been surprised: these were rooms meant for people important enough to be hosted by the emperor after all. With this incident, many commoners would get a chance to see these quarters as well. Zhongli hoped that it would help them recover from their experiences at least a little. He needed to talk with all of them and personally apologise once this was all over. Although, he probably needed to face them as only Zhongli first. What should he say…

<Sleep first, think later.>

Zhongli frowned, but relented and laid down, opening his shirt a little to be more comfortable. “Now that you can talk with me freely, will you always be this insistent on things?”

<Most likely not, unless you make a habit of neglecting yourself,> Morax said, sounding a little amused. It seemed at least one of them had gotten a major weight off their mind with their talk. <Although I must admit I personally couldn’t deal with that child, I am starting to see why your director takes the more nagging approach with you at times. It works.>

Zhongli groaned and threw a hand over his eyes. “There’s going to be two of you?”

<Sleep.>

“Okay already…”

.

Despite his initial reluctance, by the time he woke up again, Zhongli admitted that a good rest had definitely been beneficial. It was fairly dark outside when he came to, in the early morning hours if he had to guess. Which he didn’t need to do, because Morax’s sense of time was much sharper than his and was telling him the exact hour by the amount of light for this time of year. He had fallen asleep early in the evening, so Zhongli was guessing… or rather knowing again, that he had slept roughly eight to nine hours. After three nights of barely any sleep on a hard, uneven surface, his body was thankful for the soft bed that had provided him this better opportunity to rest.

Zhongli sat up and saw a tray set on the desk with covered up bowls and plates. Someone had brought him food while he had slept then. If it had been someone he should have met, Morax would have most likely woken him up. Zhongli stood and stretched his arms up. From the energy that coursed through his body again, he knew Morax must have deemed him rested enough now. He had eaten light meal in the pharmacy, that was more on the fulfilling and healthy side than tasty, and before that his last somewhat proper meal had been now two days ago. At this point, he’d take a cold meal any— oh… it wasn’t cold?

<It’s the dishes. The insides of the plates have been enchanted to keep food preserved as it was made as long as the lid is closed,> Morax educated him as Zhongli sat down to eat.

Zhongli hummed, interested, and listened to Morax explain the inner workings of the imperial kitchen as he ate. The food was delicious, as he should have expected, although he could tell the chef was someone whose cooking he had never tasted before. According to Morax, emperors often assigned their human staff to the kitchen, choosing cooks they liked the best and bringing them with them to the palace. It was a very standard practice for Rex Lapis to recruit people to work for his court as they pleased. All those people would live in the palace with the emperor, making it lively and busy year around. Zhongli didn’t feel like prying any of his acquaintances away from their lives to live with him, though, so he had the feeling he might stick to the adepti for now.

<You could ask that young prodigy chef to join you if you’d like,> Morax suggested. <Her cooking is delicious indeed.>

“And keep everyone else from tasting Xiangling’s cooking? Absolutely not,” Zhongli replied and cleaned up the empty bowls and plates into neat stacks. “Besides, she has her family business to help with. Unless I brought her father here as well, which would mean closing down Wanmin Restaurant. That would be an incredible loss for Chihu Rock and all of the Harbor.” Finishing setting the tray aside, Zhongli closed his eyes and concentrated, scanning Morax’s perception of their surroundings. Identifying who it was he sensed, Zhongli opened his eyes. “Xiao.” The yaksha was with him in a now familiar flash. “Ah. Always so quick.”

“Of course I am,” Xiao huffed, sounding almost offended for a second. “What do you require, my lord?” he asked, dropping down to one knee again.

Zhongli shook his head. “You don’t need to keep doing that. Save the kneeling for formal occasions please?” he requested and stood up. Xiao rose up as well and Zhongli was happy Xiao wasn’t so stubborn about etiquette and showing proper respect to argue with him about it. Or maybe it was because it was him. “Can you tell me what has happened while I slept?”

Not a whole lot, it turned out. All the kidnapped had been reunited with their families and slept the night in the palace. The yaksha in turn had increased security in the city, on the surface to prevent any further kidnappings. The city had been bustling with news and rumours about the incident and its conclusion well into the night before even the most avid gossipers had to retire for the day. Behind the scenes, the yaksha had hinted to the millelith officers that although they now had a full load of captured treasure hoarders to deal with, not all of the perpetrators had been caught. Since no attempt what so ever had been made to aid the treasure hoarders after their capture, Zhongli concluded he had been right to assume that they had no real value to the forces of the Abyss.

But despite these preparations, no big steps to or fro had been taken. Even so, both him and Morax were certain that their enemies certainly were not resting. Which meant that Zhongli could not afford to do so any longer either. He wanted to discuss with the other victims, but seeing as it was barely sunrise after a very long few days for all of them, he decided not to disturb them. Instead, after taking a moment of quiet thoughts to consult with Morax, Xiao took him to the top of Mt. Tianheng. There was a secret entrance to the palace at the top, a staircase that led inside the mountain. To keep out of sight, Zhongli sat down near the top of the stairs without going outside and tried to empty his mind of distractions.

<Deep breaths. Concentrate.> Morax’s presence loomed around him more vividly and filled his senses, helping him dull himself to his surroundings. His safety was left in Xiao’s hands. <The ground is your friend. Do not let it overwhelm you.>

His consciousness delved into the earth. The mountain was like a lighthouse, high in the air and lighting up a direction he wanted to see. Zhongli could sense the stone and soil: his awareness swimming though the hills and crevasses of Liyue, diving under rivers and lakes, tunnelling though the caves and ruins and climbing the peaks of mountains. The presence, energy and memory he could sense from the earth would have drowned him under a weight of the land itself, if not for a clear goal he had to concentrate on. He was searching for specific type of energy. Something that didn’t belong. Not these little hints and remnants left here and there, but a cluster. A concentrated, foreign mass.

It was in truth more Morax than him doing the searching. But Zhongli was like a ship the lighthouse guided, while Morax was the lookout in his nest, scanning further into their surroundings than Zhongli could see through the immediate waves of the land they sailed across. His sense of time disappeared. At few points, he wasn’t even sure if he could ever return to his body. One too eager move or distracted thought would have sunk his consciousness into the depths of the earth and left it to wander amongst rock and stone, unable to find his way home. Morax was his only anchor to reality at those moments, pulling him into a stop and separating him from his surroundings just enough to remember who he was and what he was meant to do.

Until finally, they found it. The sickening cluster of energy that attempted to hide its hideousness behind a veil. Attempted to blend in with its surroundings and fool any who passed by. But there was no way to hide the stench.

Zhongli’s body spasmed on his return, struggling for a breath and seeing nothing for a moment. He could hear an alarmed grunt and felt a pair of arms grab onto him to hold his body still. Someone said something, but it sounded like a different language. For a few seconds longer he could only understand the language of rocks, before his head cleared and he remember where he was and who was with him. Morax was also talking to him, trying to soothe his mind and coerce it to function within a body again. That’s right. This was his body. He was only sitting in a carved stone step at the top of the mountain: the mountain itself was not a part of him. And with him was…

“My lord?” Xiao tried to call him again and the hands that held him upright clutched him tightly. “Are you alright? What happened?”

Zhongli was disorientated, overwhelmed by the presence and memory of the earth, but through it, there was a clear spark: a sense of accomplishment.

“We found them,” he breathed out and couldn’t stop a victorious smile from passing over his lips. Those unknown people and their abyssal companions. “They’re in the Chasm.”

It had taken them five hours to complete the search. Even with a clear, discernible thing to look for and two of them doing the searching, it had been a cruelling task. Zhongli needed another half an hour to recover in peace before he could stand. Xiao offered to fetch a healer but Zhongli declined: this wasn’t something a healer could help with. This wasn’t physical stress and his mind was his own to sort out. Plus, he already had Morax to help him where it was possible.

During his recovery, Zhongli reported to Xiao what they had found. There was a bundle of gateways, littered across the perimeter and the inside the Chasm. Most of them were the size of normal doorways. The creatures of the Abyss had the power to create rifts they could travel through, but the nature of these gates was different. They were more stable and didn’t require someone to constantly maintain them. More people could pass through without as much use of power. While they were closed and hidden behind their wards, one would be hard pressed to find any of them. But if one knew where they were, anyone sufficiently powerful could force them open and go through. A problem that Morax had identified during their brief search, was that some of the gates could apparently be moved. Not drastically but enough to make determining positions for possible troops trickier.

“We will hold council and discuss the strategy with the others,” Xiao said and offered Zhongli a hand as he decided to try and stand up again. “We must clearly map out the locations of these gates, mark the ones that can be moved and try and predict where the enemy might want to move them. If we plan appropriately, we can bait them into moving their exit points into traps.”

“I’m afraid my military expertise falls a little short for now,” Zhongli admitted, starting a low descend down the staircase within the mountain. A crash course on military tactics from Morax would not bring him up par with the yaksha. “Much of the planning will fall on your shoulders. I will be there to aid where I can, of course.” And Morax no doubt could offer some input.

Xiao grunted a little. “This is our job, Rex Lapis. We will not be reluctant to do the duty that is expected of us, even if you left it to us entirely. We yaksha were born to fight and have sworn an oath to defend both Liyue and you. This enemy threatens both. You’ve given us the opportunity to bring the fight to them. We will not let you down.”

Zhongli nodded. “I know. I trust you.” He heard a little sound and a shift in Xiao’s steps at his words but did not look behind him to see what seemed to bother the yaksha. Sensing Morax silently smiling at the back of his mind told him that he hadn’t said something outrageously wrong for once. Hopefully. For now, his next course of action was to see if he could talk with the other victims of the kidnappings, in hopes of gaining some more insight on their opponents. And to just check on their conditions, in the case some of them required some kind of additional care.

Zhongli rejected the offer to teleport him back to his room, wanting to have a moment to think, and a walk worked nicely for clearing his mind. Of all the kidnapped people, only Miss Yun Jin was someone he had met previously multiple times. Some he had seen in formal settings, but none could be called his personal friends. How to approach them would depend much on the person and how they were faring. Still, he’d best have some questions and lines ready, to fumble a bit less when he would inevitably have to lie about his identity again. Besides, even though Morax’s knowledge of every corner of this palace was preventing him from getting lost, he much wanted to see more of it himself. There was no denying the palace was an astounding showing of craftsmanship after all.

When he reached the guest quarters, it was around the time most people were having lunch in a dining hall near their new rooms. Zhongli could hear a cheerful chatter well before they reached the area, which put his mind at ease. It sounded like people were busy catching up with each other and trading experiences. It gave him hope that perhaps this environment would prove therapeutic to the victims, giving them people to talk to and plenty of support from friends and family. He would have to check if some of them were being left outside that circle and required more to return to their normal lives.

Xiao left his side quietly after they reached the area with other people and Zhongli walked the rest of the way towards the dining hall on his own. Just as he was about to enter it, he saw a familiar face, sitting on a stone near the edge of an open hallway giving into a small garden between the buildings. More than happy to start with someone he knew, not to mention that she was currently alone, which he hoped wasn’t a bad sign, Zhongli walked over to the petite girl who was quietly humming to herself and seemingly enjoying the sunlight.

Yun Jin looked behind her as she heard him coming close and although her humming paused, she gave him a gentle smile. “Mr. Zhongli. I had heard you were here as well. It is good to see you.”

“Good to see you as well, Miss Yun,” Zhongli greeted her with a little nod and stole a glance at the bandages wrapped around her left forearm. His own he had covered with a sleeve when getting dressed in the morning. “How are you faring?”

“Ah, I cannot complain too much,” Yun Jin said and stood up, patting out her dress. “Although I much would have preferred another type of occasion to visit the Imperial Palace, I cannot help but feel safe and relaxed at the moment. Perhaps it is the contrast compared to the past few days.”

“Do you not have family or friends to be with?”

“I do, but I wanted a moment away from the loudest places. I was given a permission to eat out in the garden and have a picnic of sorts, so my family is bringing us food here shortly. I prefer a quieter place at the moment. The guards I was assigned were rather rowdy.”

Zhongli frowned, remembering back to his own experiences. “Were your guards rough on you?”

Yun Jin shook her head quickly. “Oh, no. That is another reason I cannot really complain, especially to you. The treasure hoarders who kept me company were actually fairly friendly and often wanted me to sing or dance to them. I was treated rather well, but they were also almost never quiet and let’s just say they were not good singers.”

Zhongli was happy to hear her experience hadn’t been that awful, but… “What do you mean ‘especially to me’?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Just then the dining hall door opened behind them and a couple of people stepped outside, balancing plates of food.

Yun Jin smiled at and talked to them as they approached, before briefly explaining. “I understood that your guards were the more violent sort and that you were also caught up in the fighting when the rescue happened. When I arrived last night, I asked about you but was told you were already sleeping to recover from your injuries. Really, I should return your earlier question: how are you faring yourself, Mr. Zhongli?”

Zhongli laughed once, a little embarrassed. “I’m quite alright, you do not have to worry.”

“Do you have family here with you?”

“Oh, no, I’m afraid I don’t have any close relatives.”

Yun Jin smiled softly and gestured towards the location her family and friends were setting up a picnic in. “Then would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Thank you for the kind offer,” Zhongli said and smiled back to her. “But you should spend some time with them in private. I also wish to talk to the others who are here for our reasons. Perhaps I could talk with you again later?”

“Of course,” Yun Jin promised, curtseying slightly to him as a goodbye. “I will see you later then.”

Zhongli looked after her for a few seconds, wondering if he should have taken up the offer, but then kept his head and turned around. He joined the people in the dining hall for a light meal that was more talking and listening than eating for him. Most people around seemed to be in high spirits and supportive of each other. Everyone was happy to be with their families again and although some wished they could have simply gone home; safety was a concern they all agreed upon. But it wasn’t as if there were no concerns or heavy hearts. Zhongli quickly learnt that some of the kidnapped had not left their rooms at all so far or had only talked to their loved ones. One was apparently not eating properly and many had not slept well due to nightmares.

Most concerning… Zhongli thought to himself as he walked back towards his room. He should ask the adepti to arrange some professional help to the victims if this persisted. Or perhaps it was better they all saw someone even if they were doing fine right now. Being here and able to talk with others with same experiences definitely seemed to help many though. I will also definitely have to see all these people myself once I am officially Rex Lapis. The responsibility for all this will fall on me, eventually. I cannot let this incident shadow their lives for long.

He exited an inside corridor, rounding a corner to the yard circled by some of the guest rooms and there his steps halted. There was someone sitting on the veranda next to his room, hugging her knees against her chest, slowly rocking back and forth.

“…Director?” he uttered before he could sort out his thoughts.

Hu Tao startled upright as soon as he spoke and turned, pushing herself up from the edge and on her feet. She used the pillar next to herself as leverage to all but bolt herself across the wooden planks.

Zhongli tried to chase his stunned reaction away by physically shaking his head and started walking forwards to meet her. “You’re here?” he stuttered, trying to wrap his head around her presence. “Why—” he stopped his question and his steps, when he realised that Hu Tao wasn’t showing signs of slowing down as she came closer. He had just enough time to brace himself before she crashed against his chest, knocking a breath out of his lungs. Zhongli took a step back to balance them both and took a firm hold of Hu Tao’s shoulder, his other hand instinctively reaching out to catch her hat as it fell off on the impact. “Director, what…” he started, but stopped yet again when he felt Hu Tao’s arms wrap around his chest. He stared down at the girl who pulled him tightly against herself and feeling the hitches of her breath against him completely silenced him.

Hu Tao’s fingers searched his back to hold onto the fabric of his clothes. “I told you to leave, not get kidnapped,” she whispered against him, shivering as if she felt cold. “What kind of dumbass mixes those two up? If that was your idea of making me feel better: you’re fired.”

Zhongli was at a loss for words. Hu Tao’s words were quiet and fragmented. The memories of their last conversation were coming back. What had Hu Tao felt like when he had been announced missing after that? Looking at her now, Zhongli felt the urge to hold her closer until her shivering stopped. “Hu Tao, you… were you worried? About me?”

“Of course I was worried!” Hu Tao objected, but talking louder than in whisper released a held back sob from her throat. “How could I not? You told me you were sick and then suddenly you’re taken by people who probably couldn’t care less that you are. And what did you mean ‘why am I here’? Why would I not be here?” she asked, her voice lowering back down with the next sob she tried to held back. “We knew nothing for days. Last night I received a message that they had found you, but when I came here, you were already asleep. Then they told me it was because you had been injured. I told myself it’d be fine and went to bed, but when I woke up in the morning, you were no longer in your room. And no one knew where you had gone.” She shook her head and shifted, trying to pull him somehow even closer. “If you wanted to make me worry, congratulations, you succeeded.”

Zhongli had to fight back a shiver of his own as he listened to her supress her cries. He hesitated, his hands twitching a couple of times, before his instincts won over and he wrapped them around her shoulders and head. He leant his head down and against hers, holding her tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and ran his hand against the back of her head, hoping to make her stop crying. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. If I knew you were here, I would have come to see you.”

“I don’t want your apology, I want you to be safe,” Hu Tao replied, her words hitching out as whispers as she gave up holding back her cries now that he held her. “You’re the only family I have left. Don’t leave me.”

Zhongli stilled, his breathing caught in his throat for a few heartbeats. Her words slowly sank into his heart. Suddenly the usually strong and independent Hu Tao felt fragile in his arms. Taking a deep breath he closed his arms tighter around her, coming to a decision. It was something that needed to happen eventually and if there was someone he’d rather start with, she was the one.

“Hu Tao,” he said quietly into her hair, wondering why he suddenly felt strangely calm about this. “There is something I need to tell you.”

Fanart for this chapter ♡

Chapter Text

“There is something I need to tell you.”

Hu Tao’s sniffed. “What?” she asked, her voice getting muffled against his shirt.

Zhongli loosened his hold around her and straightened. “Come. I’d rather talk about this in a more private place.” He nudged Hu Tao’s shoulder to detach her from himself, but the girl’s response was to squeeze him even harder. Zhongli grunted, a little uncomfortable. Hu Tao was surprisingly strong. “We cannot walk like this.”

“Sounds like a ‘you problem’,” Hu Tao muttered a reply and made no move to let go. Little hiccups and sniffles told of her emotional struggle even when Zhongli couldn’t see her face.

He sighed. “Please? I am not going anywhere for now, I promise. We only need to move over to my room. I’ll hold your hand if you wish.”

“I don’t know,” Hu Tao said, but her hold loosened a little. “How do I know you don’t just poof out of existence again? I have this icky feeling in my chest telling me you’re going somewhere far away if I look elsewhere.” Her fingers pulled on the fabric they held. “I hate it.”

Zhongli wasn’t sure were her worries and words making him feel more warm or guilty inside at the moment. He hugged his arms around Hu Tao again and caressed her hair gently. “I understand. But this is very important to me. So, please: I might have not earned it at this point, but I ask that you trust me. Come with me to a place where we can talk privately.”

Hu Tao sighed and gave mercy to his shirt. She retreated away enough to give him a little space, but appeared reluctant to completely let go. Zhongli smiled softly and pressed the hat he had held between his fingers back on Hu Tao’s head. He nudged her arms again to loosen her hold within the space he had now been granted and searched for the hand that was still lingering by his waist. Interlocking their fingers, Zhongli gave her a reassuring squeeze as he started leading them towards his room. He thanked the adepti’s foresight to ward the room against eavesdropping.

Hu Tao followed beside him, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. She had squeezed Zhongli’s hand back as soon as he had, holding on tightly now as they walked the short distance to the right door. Zhongli had only seen her this distraught once before: the night before the first funeral she had ever hosted as the director of the Parlor. Zhongli had not gone to her back then, having accidentally witnessed her breakdown. He had come looking for her, but after some hesitation and conflicting thoughts, he had walked away from what seemed like a moment Hu Tao had needed for herself. Back then, he had simply decided to be there for her on the days and weeks to come, letting her get everything out of her chest in private, since strong and capable of walking her own path was the image she preferred. Back then for him, it had been the same kind of struggle as this time: whether to hold and attempt to soothe her or to allow her to gather herself on her own before facing others. Except this time, he had himself been the cause. And he had ultimately chosen differently.

Zhongli rubbed his thumb over Hu Tao’s fingers, getting a little nervous as he closed the door to his room behind them. He could feel the wards within the walls hiding them from the world. Those who had clearance could still hear them, so Zhongli knew at least Xiao would witness the moment his relationship with Hu Tao would be tested. Would she accept him? Believe him? Or would this be just another betrayal in her eyes: proof of how he had lied to her for weeks? Hidden something this important and consequential, because he had been afraid. That somewhere in the back of his mind, he had hoped he would not have to tell her at all. That maybe the God of Contracts would change his mind somewhere along the way. But he knew that was not going to be the case. Besides there was another fear that was growing in his heart as he watched Hu Tao clutch his hand a little tighter, bringing both of her hands to hold onto his. A prospect more terrifying to him than her rejection.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for him to break the silence. Zhongli knelt down in front of Hu Tao and tried to think of what to say. “I…” he started but paused, only to breath out an embarrassed laugh. “I don’t know where to start.”

“This really is important to you, isn’t it? You’re not usually at a loss for words,” Hu Tao said, playing with his fingers like she couldn’t keep her hands still. “Hey, are you… okay? Those… kidnappers weren’t too mean to you or anything? They told me you were hurt…”

“I was,” Zhongli admitted but added quickly before Hu Tao could grow too worried for him. “But it’s not serious. I was simply tired yesterday after everything finally settled down. I’ve had a lot on my plate. But I will manage.” Something crossed his mind and he gave Hu Tao a quizzical look. “Did you tackle me earlier knowing I had been injured?”

Hu Tao glanced up at him and a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. “I couldn’t help it. Besides, you were good enough to walk around on your own from early morning: I trusted you could have dodged or stopped me if you wanted to.”

Zhongli shook his head in response a little exasperated. He supposed he could have, yes.

Hu Tao’s expression turned a tad brighter. “Thanks for letting me capture you.” She pulled his hand closer to herself, from her knees to properly atop her lap. “Is this something you need to talk about related to the kidnapping? Or is it about the thing you said you were stuck with?”

“Um…” Zhongli hesitated again and looked past her, trying to form a sentence. “Both… actually.” That was a sentence, right?

“Why are you acting so bashful?” Hu Tao asked, some of her usual cheeriness returning to her voice. She was trying to encourage him to talk, Zhongli recognized and inwardly kicked himself. He had been the one to ask her here but now he was stuck on his own inadequacies again…  “I promise I won’t laugh,” Hu Tao said with a light tone, but it was somewhat of an actual worry in Zhongli’s mind that she would laugh it off as a joke. “Are you going to tell me what kind of illness you have?” she asked, voice wavering slightly again.

Zhongli brought his other hand up to curl on top of hers. “I am but… I’m sorry you misunderstood that part. It is not an illness.”

Hu Tao looked up at him. “It’s not? Then what is it? Some kind… hereditary dysfunction?”

Zhongli hummed. “I suppose it is sort of hereditary. But it is not the kind of thing you inherit from your parents or that can infect just anyone.”

<Can you stop comparing me to a disease?> Morax complained. <Since you’re now “stuck with me” I’d prefer something a little more complaisant.>

Zhongli chose to ignore the god and decided to just start talking. “The two things are related. The kidnapping incident and why I have to resign. The reason I was kidnapped… is because I have something other people desire. Something I never asked to have, but… as things stand, it is my duty to take care of it and everything it entails.”

Hu Tao looked at him, eyebrows raised and blinked slowly. “Okay… Or actually: no, you lost me.”

Zhongli tasted his words in his mouth for a moment, moving closer to her. He wanted to somehow make Hu Tao understand him and come to a realisation about the truth on her own, instead of him saying it to her face. He hoped that maybe that way, it would be easier for her to come to accept his words. He gently freed his left hand from Hu Tao’s hold and hid her hands between both of his own. “I am sorry it has to be this way. But I really cannot continue working at the Funeral Parlor as I am now. Even after all of this blows over, there will be too many things expected of me. Too many people who need me. But that doesn’t mean we can never see each other. I promise to come and visit.” His hands squeezed hers a little tighter and Zhongli looked into her eyes, hoping it was understanding he was seeing in them. “And you can come to see me here. Anytime you want.”

Hu Tao’s eyes had widened. She was silent for a spell when Zhongli paused, before her hands shivered in his hold. “…Here?” she repeated, her voice thin.

Zhongli stubbornly held his head up high, expression steady and eyes on her. “Here.”

The way her gaze trembled, how her breathing grew quicker and fingers twitched against his palms: he knew she was putting pieces together in her head. He waited for her to reply, hopeful for a moment, but when she sharply pulled her hands out of his hold, leaving his own hands empty and hovering atop her lap, there was pit that opened in his chest.

Zhongli retracted his hands slowly and let his eyes close. His hands felt cold. It was too late to take it back now. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I still cannot tell you everything. And I must ask: speak of this to no one. It is important people do not know of Rex Lapis’ return yet. Like I said, I… I’ve had a lot on my plate, lately. All of this—”

He suddenly felt Hu Tao’s hands cup his cheeks and opened his eyes as she guided him to face her. Hu Tao’s breath was fast and she bit her lip before she spoke. “Since when?” she asked.

She sounded scared. Despite her gesture to reach out to him had made him feel lighter, that made him feel worse. Zhongli averted his eyes a little. She wouldn’t be scared of him, would she? “Since the time I collapsed that one morning. But I only learnt of it myself the night after the Rite of Parting. That was the first time I… met him. Or faced him, perhaps, more accurately. I didn’t—”

Hu Tao threw her arms around him, leaning down and slipping to the floor from the edge of the bed. Zhongli startled when she pulled his head against her shoulder. “Director, what—”

This time she shut him up by pressing him tighter against herself and the rest of his question got muffled up. Hu Tao’s breaths were quick and she was shivering again. “Are you telling me…” she asked. “That morning… when I thought you were just overworking yourself …” Her chest trembled when a tear fell from her eye again. “Zhongli, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Zhongli did not understand. Moreover: “You… believe me?”

“Are you kidding me? I know you don’t have the comedic skill to even think that this might be funny somehow. And you’re not some kind of jerk who would fake it either. I mean, I almost don’t want to believe you, but who would I trust if not you?” Hu Tao ranted. The hands that held him were searching for good place to grasp. “I sent you away. I left you to deal with it on your own, didn’t I? You came to the Parlor for support and I just told you to sleep and leave. I’m sorry.”

Zhongli relaxed in her hold and wondered at the feeling of lightness as the pit in his chest disappeared. “I just didn’t want to accept it,” he explained, quietly. “You don’t have to apologise. You did help me, that morning… I was only trying to distract myself and deny the truth. I refused to believe the God of Contracts would choose someone like me. I still find it hard to accept. But all I can do now, is do the best I can.” It was liberating to talk about this, he realised. That he could finally talk about it with someone and get it out of his chest. It had only a couple of weeks since his life had changed, but somehow it felt so much longer than that. “I just worry it isn’t enough.”

Hu Tao chuckled between her shaking breaths. “Your best has never not been enough for me,” she said and squeezed him, playfully now. “You can tell the God of Contracts that if it isn’t enough for him, he's going to get a stern talking to from me.”

Zhongli huffed, amused. “He can hear you.”

Hu Tao startled backwards and looked Zhongli in the eyes. “He can? Wait, am I going to be smitten down for hugging you?”

“If he has a problem with it, he will get a talking to from me instead,” Zhongli promised, making Hu Tao smile.

“Is he just giving you orders or have you, like, talked with him?”

“I have.”

Hu Tao’s expression turned a bit mischievous. “So? What’s he like?”

“Uhm…”  Zhongli hesitated, trying to ignore the expectant “go on, I’m listening” energy Morax was giving out. “Strict. But kind in his own way. Proud, yet also willing to listen. And… well. Strong. Immensely so.”

Hu Tao giggled. “He sounds kinda like you then.”

Zhongli flinched. “What, how? No, absolutely not.”

Hu Tao laughed, pulling him back into a hug, and pressed her cheek against his hair. “This is so absurd… The whole of Liyue is looking for you. But you’re right here! And of all people, you told me first! Am I in some big and important inner circle now? Were those…” her cheery tone trailed off and her shoulders slumped down. Zhongli made a questioning hum, but Hu Tao let go of him instead of continuing her sentence, sitting back on the edge of the bed. Her expression had turned grimmer. “Are the people who caused this whole mess still after you?”

Zhongli took a slow breath and searched her hands out again to hold them. “Yes. But we’ve figured out where they might be hiding. We will get them soon. You don’t need to worry; we have taken precaution to keep me out of their reach. One of which is hiding the location of the God of Contracts from the people of Liyue as well. They will not get me.”

Hu Tao’s mouth twitched into a frown. “Are you going to have to face them again?”

“I am not entirely sure yet,” Zhongli admitted. “We have to discuss our plans still. But most likely, I will not go into the frontlines. I would only get in the adepti’s way.”

Hu Tao nodded. “Were they the ones who hurt you?”

“Yes. …You are not coming with me,” Zhongli added when he saw the look in Hu Tao’s eyes. He sighed a little at the dejected look on her face when she was outright rejected before she could even offer her help. “But there is something you can do for me.”

Hu Tao blinked. “What?”

Zhongli gave her hands a squeeze. “I want you to stay in the palace for a while.”

“In the palace?” She tilted her head. “Why?”

Zhongli felt the unpleasant feeling akin to fear surface again as he thought about it. “Because it isn’t safe out there for you. Because of this incident, our enemies may have identified me now. I fear they might do something to you to get to me. Until we resolve this, can you do me a favour and stay here, where it is safe? Or if you insist on leaving, at least let me assign someone to guard you.”

Hu Tao scoffed. “Aiya, you don’t need to worry about me, old man. Although, I know you will whatever I say. But you should do less of it and concentrate on what needs to be done. You know I’m strong.”

Zhongli shook his head emphatically. “Director, these are people who snuck into the Imperial Palace and killed the previous Rex Lapis. They abducted a dozen others besides myself and have attacked the Qixing as well. Abyssal creatures are involved. Please do not do anything reckless. I cannot afford to be distracted and I want to eliminate anything that might cause me to. Your safety is important to me.”

“Well, so is yours to me.” Hu Tao crossed her arms. “You need to promise to not do anything reckless yourself. We can strike a deal: you stay safe and the moment you’re not, you forfeit your right to stop me.”

Zhongli sighed. “You and your bargains…” he mumbled under his breath. But both Hu Tao and Morax had told him within a short while to stop taking the perchance more effective but riskier routes. Riskier for him, and Morax by extent. He needed to stop troubling the god with his choices, the sooner the better. Hu Tao too was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer still. “I will do my best to keep out of harm’s way,” he promised to ease her worries.

Hu Tao huffed, pleased. “Then I promise to stay in the palace until you figure things out. But I will have to sort out a few work things before that. The Parlor was already at a frenzy because you were gone suddenly. It wasn’t just me who worried for you. I don’t know what will everyone do over there if I unexpectedly disappear as well.”

Zhongli nodded. “Then I will arrange someone to follow you, for safety.”

She gave him a thoughtful hum. “You can really just command the adepti now then, huh. That’s a weird thought.”

Tell me about it… Zhongli decided to not say it out loud to appear at least a little competent.

“Can I see it?” Hu Tao asked suddenly, eliciting a questioning noise and a raised brow from Zhongli. Hu Tao fiddled with her fingers. “Your injury.” Zhongli frowned and was about to speak up before she added. “Please.”

Zhongli glanced down at his arm, unsure why Hu Tao wanted to know such a thing. He felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of her seeing the wounds. But they were bandaged up, so he clipped open the buttons on his left sleeve and rolled it up over his elbow. The bandage underneath was still neat, but there were a few untidy smudges here and there. Now that he thought about it, this was the first bandage he had been given after Baizhu and Storm Chaser had coerced the wounds to close enough to not bleed every time he turned his wrist. He had had it on since yesterday afternoon. I should change it… he thought to himself with a little frown.

In his mind, Morax sighed. <Have someone to change it for you, you mean. How deep will you have me dig to uproot this “I will do everything myself” attitude from your habits?>

I’d like to argue that it is not a bad habit to not bother others with things you can accomplish yourself, Zhongli noted, but he knew arguing about this with Morax was a fruitless effort.

<There is a healthy and an unhealthy amount of that and yours is decidedly the latter. Trust me, I’ve had to go through this lesson myself in the past: I know the difference. The injury is on your arm: it’ll be hard for you to fix the bandage in an effective way on your own. I’d say call for a healer to check it but it seems we have a volunteer.>

Zhongli snapped out of their thought conversation and focused on his surroundings and specifically his arm again. Hu Tao had taken his wrist and raised his hand up on top of her knees to examine it. He had been vaguely aware that she had softly ran her fingers against the coiling fabric, but only now did he realise that she had taken off the little hooks that had held the bandage tightly in place.

“What are you doing?” he asked and pulled on his arm a little.

Hu Tao didn’t let go despite the little protest and continued to unwrap the bandage from around his arm. “It’s dirty. We should change it,” she said like it was the obvious answer.

“You don’t need to trouble yourself with that, I can handle it,” Zhongli said and then sighed at the pointed look from Morax he sensed. “I’m sure the adeptus healer who has helped me will want to take a look at it as well,” he corrected to keep the god satisfied, but frowned at Hu Tao’s hands not stopping their work. “There aren’t even any supplies here for you to redo it.”

“Yes there is,” Hu Tao said and nodded towards something behind Zhongli’s shoulder, stopping him short of using his free hand to stop hers. Zhongli glanced over to the direction she had pointed out and sure enough, there was small selection of medicine and other related supplies on the top of a small table in the corner. Zhongli was sure those had not been there in the morning.

<The adepti must have brought those here to have them ready when you came back,> Morax guessed before a question could leave his lips.

A quiet, sharp inhale from Hu Tao returned Zhongli’s attention to her before he could reply or comment about the supplies. She had pulled the loose coils of fabric down his arm, releasing the final protective layer of fabric between the bandages and the skin, carefully revealing the wound underneath. Zhongli twitched and he instinctively grabbed a hold of her hand to stop her. The wounds had mostly closed and thanks to the medicine, the inflammation had largely subsided. Only the edges of the prick wounds were still a little swollen and red. It didn’t look nearly as bad as it had the day prior, but Zhongli still rather did not want to wave it around. Thanks to his increased vitality, his speed at healing had also increased. If Baizhu saw the wound now, the doctor would probably mark it off as an effect of the adeptus aiding him with the process. Most of Storm Chaser’s healing had actually gone into healing his blood loss yesterday, leaving the wound itself to mostly heal with the more natural cures.

“What is that?” Hu Tao asked and stubbornly fought against the hand trying to pry her off the slips she had gathered in her fingers. “I was expecting a cut but… that’s not even a bite mark, is it? What did that?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Zhongli replied and managed to wriggle free by leaving the bandages in Hu Tao’s hand and freeing his arm from them instead. Having succeeded he quickly stood up and walked to the supplies on the table behind him. “It’ll heal quickly.”

Hu Tao took a deep, slow breath and closed her fist around the dirty white slips in her hands. “You’ve always helped me. With anything I’ve ever needed,” she bit out with a strained voice that made Zhongli stop and look at her again. “Be it something about work, eating healthy or stopping me from going out at night when I was sick. You carried me from Wuwang Hill to Wangshu Inn once when we were younger, for god’s sake.” Her head had dropped down. Grabbing a protective sheet to quickly wrap around his arm to hide the wound again, Zhongli came back over to her when he saw a tear drop down her cheek. “Why is it that the one time in your life you need something instead, you won’t let me help?”

“You have helped me, multiple times. I just don’t want to trouble you with inconsequential matters,” Zhongli tried to explain, using a thumb to rub a tear streak off her cheek. “If anything, seeing you cry causes me more distress than anything. Hu Tao, listen: I am here now. I am safe and fine. Why will you not take my word for it?”

“Because I’m scared!” Hu Tao exclaimed and, like once before outside, let go of her notion to hold herself together. There were too many emotions and thoughts she still held up inside. “I was so scared when I heard you had been kidnapped. I couldn’t stop thinking you might never come back. I went to the border every night just to see you weren’t there. You had shown actually rare signs of being stressed about something and I thought I was doing an alright job to support you, but then you told me you would resign and… I didn’t know what to think. So I sent you away…” Hu Tao sobbed into his shoulder where she had buried herself again. “…And then you were gone.”

Zhongli held her gently as she cried. His heart ached listening to the forced-out cries as they sat on the edge of the bed. If this was what his mistakes brought about, then he needed to not make any. “Everything will be alright,” he promised quietly, rubbing his hand slowly up and down her back. “I won’t disappear on you again. That I promise. I might have to stay here even after this incident is behind us, but remember that if you want to, you can as well.”

“You really meant that?” Hu Tao asked and turned her head to press her forehead against his neck. “You’d allow me to come here to see you?”

“Well…” Zhongli smiled, cautiously. “You’re my family, right?”

Hu Tao shivered a little and curled up closer. “I kinda just… blurted that out.” Her fingers found a handful of his shirt to hang onto. “You don’t mind?”

“I would be honoured to be your family,” Zhongli assured her, relieved to hear a little giggle amongst the sniffles, and quickly tried to piece together what to say next to keep the promising trend going. “Besides, you only gave me a leave, remember? It’d be in poor taste of me to keep completely out of touch.” Sure enough, that managed to give him another little laugh from her. A step in the right direction.

“I have a god in my employment,” she muttered, voice a little unsteady but the sobs were less strained now. “Grandpa would roll in his grave if I’d let him.” She smiled against him when she heard Zhongli chuckle. “Hey, you said the God of Contracts can hear me, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well…” Hu Tao hesitated for a second, using the moment she needed to sort her words to wrap her arm around Zhongli’s neck. “Hi there, your holiness.”

Morax groaned, which turned Zhongli’s next exhale into a quiet laugh. “He is nothing but eager to hear what you have to say.”

“I need to him to promise me something,” Hu Tao replied, closing her eyes, tired when her worries and feelings were out in the open now and no longer occupying a heavy space in her chest. “If he wants to borrow you, he needs to take better care of you. I want you back in perfect shape no matter how many years it takes. You always tell me be more responsible with precious things, Zhongli: you tell him too.”

Zhongli smiled and took a firm hold around Hu Tao’s shoulders to support her. “You should always take good care of things you hold dear.” After he had said that, his smile instantly faltered at the feeling that arose in his chest at his words.

<I know,> Morax said after a moment of silence that pulled Zhongli little out of the moment of warmth he had felt. <I promise.>

“Did he get all that?” Hu Tao asked, not knowing of the odd feeling of weight that had come over the man she leant against.

“…Yes,” Zhongli said. “He promised.”

There was a satisfied hum for a reply, followed by a moment of peace where they simply sat there, enjoying the feeling of freedom in both of their chests. As he kept an eye on her, trying to spot signs of further distress from her he needed to address, Zhongli noticed Hu Tao’s eyes wondering down his arm to the loose sheet of fabric he had grabbed from the medical supplies earlier, which was now barely not slipping off his forearm.

Zhongli took a deep breath and massaged his hand against Hu Tao’s shoulder. “Would you like to help me dress the wounds again?”

Hu Tao nodded against him, then sitting up and swiping lingering wetness off the corners of her eyes with her palm. “Didn’t you need a healer to look at it? Do you… need to wait for them?”

“Xiao,” Zhongli called out and reached out to hover his hand over Hu Tao’s when she startled and made a little yelp at the appearance of the adeptus. “Might one of the healers be available at the moment?”

“Whenever you need them, my lord,” Xiao replied immediately, making Zhongli shake his head.

“No, please don’t pull them away from anything urgent,” he insisted, glancing at Hu Tao before adding. “Can you make sure everyone knows I consider her family?”

Xiao bowed his head down. “She shall be granted access to the inner palace once the Rite of Ascension can finally be held.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli said as Xiao disappeared once again, muttering about calling a healer.

“Wow,” Hu Tao hummed and looked at him. “They really do listen to you. Didn’t you say you wanted to talk in private, though?” she asked, raising her brow. “Did he just hear everything?”

Zhongli sighed. “I’m sorry. The privacy can only be from the prying eyes and ears of those who are not allowed to know my identity yet. The adepti are keeping me under a close watch after what happened and with our foes still out there.”

“Hmm.” Hu Tao cocked her head. “Yeah, I can get behind that.” She scooted back closer to him and snuggled back against his shoulder. “But if we’re waiting for your healer friend to show up, that means I can get a hug from a family member for a little longer. Sorry, it has been such a long while I need more reminders what it feels like.”

Zhongli huffed softly, wrapping his arms around her again as she did the same. He wondered when was the last time he had experienced it. His parents hadn’t been particularly physically affectionate when they were at home, especially as he had grown older. Pats on the back or head he could remember a few occasions of, when he had helped out at home. For hugs, he’d have to dig through his memory to the earlier, hazier ones. This feeling of holding someone close himself mostly reminded him of his sister.

A knock on the door came entirely too soon in Hu Tao’s opinion, but she nonetheless was eager to help Storm Chaser where ever she could. Not that the healer really needed help, but the adeptus was understanding of her eagerness and allowed her to do her part.

When Zhongli’s arm was once again bandaged up and hidden under a sleeve, another adeptus arrived in the room and offered to bring them a meal to eat in peace. Hu Tao had not yet eaten that day and Zhongli had apparently inadvertently worried the adepti by not eating much at dinner. He needed to take a moment to assure the adeptus who had worked in the kitchen today that there was nothing wrong with the food and they didn’t need to change it for him. He did suggest they could go to the dining hall to eat, but he was ultimately outvoted. After he had agreed to eat a meal in his room with Hu Tao and the adeptus had left, Hu Tao had taken a moment to tease him about his inability to accept service like this and how he would end up being an emperor who washes his own clothes. Which Morax was apparently curious to see him try just to see how the adepti would react.

“May I interrupt, my lord?” Xiao asked, appearing beside them later as the two of them were enjoying their food by the table.

Zhongli set down his chopsticks and gave the again kneeling adeptus his attention. They needed to discuss what counted as a formal occasion… Hu Tao raised her eyebrows, looking curious and munched on the chopsticks hanging from her mouth as she leant her elbows on the table and paused to listen as well.

“We have arranged a war council to be held shortly to discuss the information you have provided us,” Xiao reported and looked up at him. “Will my lord attend? Human generals and the Qixing will be participating, so if you so wish, we yaksha will handle the matters for you.”

“I will simply take part as an informant then,” Zhongli said and nodded. “So yes, I would like to attend. You said it was beginning shortly?”

“Yes. That is why I thought it necessary enough to disturb your meal.”

“Alright,” Zhongli replied and looked at Hu Tao, frowning a little at how she was kicking her feet and leaning on her cheeks like an excited child. “I’m sorry, I must—”

“Go on,” Hu Tao said immediately, snatching the chopsticks from her mouth to talk. “You have work to do, no? Go get ‘em.”

Zhongli sighed. “Who am I supposed to ‘get’ exactly? But thank you, for understanding. I’ll make all the trouble I’ve caused up to you in some way, as soon as I can.”

Hu Tao shook her head. “Oh, no need. I know you’ve had a hard time. Besides, you have sort of made up for resigning already.”

“I have?” Zhongli tilted his head, his instincts warning him about where this was going.

“Mmhm,” Hu Tao said innocently and mirrored the tilt of his head. “I’ll admit it was supposed to be just a joke to see how many people would agree with me, but I did end up winning a bet.”

Zhongli looked at her dumbfounded for a second before everything clicked with him and his face met with his palm. “That was you?” he groaned. Why was he not surprised…

“Oh? So you noticed I entered you into the betting charts?” Hu Tao giggled, like she often did when a prank was successful. “I was a little disappointed to see only four people agreed with me about my good consultant at first but, hey: I’ll take the God of Contracts. And the money.”

“Unbelievable…” Zhongli muttered. Also: Morax, stop laughing…

Xiao made a quiet noise, making Zhongli glance down at him. Was that a smile he saw on the yaksha’s face? It disappeared quickly when Xiao saw him looking at him.

“We should go, Rex Lapis,” Xiao reminded him and Zhongli nodded, standing up, the yaksha following suit.

“Rex Lapis…” Hu Tao repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue with a soft smirk on her lips. “Now isn’t that something. Despite of everything else I might say, Zhongli, you should know that I am feeling pretty proud for you right now.”

Zhongli gave her an exasperated look. “Director—"

“Oh hush, you’re just too humble: you’ll do great, old man. I know you will,” Hu Tao countered before he could even say anything and waved him off. “Get going. Now that I know, I don’t want to wait any longer to see the Rite of Ascension than I have to. So wrap things up quickly, please.”

Zhongli sighed and followed Xiao out of the room. “You may finish your meal and stay here as long as you’d like, but I might be gone for a while.”

“Have fun!” Hu Tao waved after him, her chuckling getting cut straight into silence as Zhongli closed the door behind him. Those protective wards were working wonders. Still, he felt lighter now that had shared his secret with someone and happy that she had accepted his revelation so readily. Hu Tao seemed to have somewhat returned to her usual cheery self as well, which was a relief.

Xiao led him out of the guest quarters and to the area of the palace directly behind Yiyan Temple. Where the temple served as a place anyone could visit to pray to and respect the Geo Archon, these rooms and halls were used for matters of governance, judiciary and military. Zhongli had visited this place briefly once on an official matter, but he had only seen a small portion back then. This was where all the official meetings and proceedings were held and where the highest court of the land resided. At the centre of everything was the throne room of the emperor, which Zhongli knew they passed by thanks to Morax’s knowledge of the layout, but didn’t stop to see.

So… this is where Liyue’s course and matters are decided, Zhongli thought to himself, glancing from door and corridor to another, his head filling with knowledge of what was behind each closed door or curtain and each bend of a corridor he couldn’t immediately see. He would see much of this place in years to come. And sit many times in the grand chair he had only ever seen in pictures. Morax had shaped the throne out of cor lapis, obsidian, jade and various clear crystals for his first vessel to sit on, before resigning his body back to the earth. It still resonated with the power of the god to this day.

<I made it comfortable, I swear,> Morax told him, a little proudly, as they reached a door guarded by some junior yaksha who stood in attention as they approached. Luckily to anyone watching, they were simply honouring the presence of one of their generals, not both of them.

The doors were opened for them and they entered a large brightly lit room. High windows rose at the back wall, giving them a view over the tops of roofs towards the sea, but Zhongli knew you could only see through them in one direction. At the centre of the room, surrounded by chairs and sectioned in a way it could be separated into smaller pieces, was a dark wooden oval-shaped table. The side walls were filled from the floor to the ceiling with shelves full of books and scrolls. Glancing over his shoulder as the doors closed, Zhongli saw that the last wall of the room was covered in maps of different areas and types. One map, that of the Chasm and its surroundings, had been set on the table in the middle and weighed in place. He could sense the same type of wards that had been set in his temporary room within the walls behind the shelves and maps.

“Who…” one of the humans in the room mumbled, frowning in his direction as they entered. General Zhi, as Morax told him, one of the human generals of the millelith. After a moment of contemplation, the general spoke aloud. “Is he not one of the victims of the recent incident? Why is he here?”

The other yaksha in the room looked silently at Xiao for confirmation. Xiao glanced at Zhongli one final time before answering. “This person has some vital information concerning our enemies. He will attend the meeting as an informant for a key element in our plans.”

Zhongli brought a hand to his chest and bowed to the man and his companions, who were standing in a group by the table, where they had been chatting while waiting for the meeting to begin. He offered the same bow to the four seated yaksha as well. The millelith officers seemed interested in his presence, mostly accepting it as a part of the adepti’s dealings they had learnt to trust, and only some were frowning in confusion. That would be good enough for now. Under usual circumstances, this was a top-secret meeting among the highest in authority. While Rex Lapis of course was a different story, someone like him as a civilian had no place here. Zhongli did not want his presence to cause troubles, so hopefully the adepti’s words would be enough.

The yaksha with flaming red hair smiled at him and tapped the table next to her. “Welcome. You can sit here.”

Zhongli thanked her and made his way to the appointed seat, sitting down. Xiao sat down on his other side. Or general Alatus in this occasion: Zhongli reminded himself to call them by their official names rather than personal ones. His gaze wandered between the five yaksha. On his left, Indarias, general Musatas, the yaksha of flames. Bosacius, marshal Vritras, the yaksha of lightning, sat at the head of the table, befitting of his position as the highest commander of the army, outside of Rex Lapis. Menogias, the yaksha of mountains, general Kapisas, on the marshal’s left. Then Bonanus, general Chizapus and the yaksha of waves directly across from Zhongli. Finally, Xiao, general Alatus and the yaksha of winds, on his right.

Zhongli couldn’t help but realise that he was probably sitting on a chair Xiao would have normally used. If this was a precaution from the yakshas’ part, they were overreacting, but he decided it wasn’t “Zhongli’s” place to comment about seating arrangements. The chair for Rex Lapis was at the other end of the table opposite to Bosacius, but for now, that seat would remain empty, unless the Tianquan would be bold enough to sit on it.

As if on queue with his thoughts of her, the door opened again to reveal the Tianquan and the Yuheng on the other side. The millelith generals turned to the door and stood in attention at the arrival of the Qixing. Ningguang looked as pristine as ever as she stepped past the threshold of the door, eyes clear and sharp as she scanned people present in the room. Her eyebrows rose slightly with contained curiosity as she met eyes with Zhongli. As Zhongli lowered his eyes to respectfully greet and bow at them, he heard Keqing stop and make a confused sound as well.

As the door behind them closed with loud clack, Bosacius stood up from his seat. “All invited are present. Let us begin.”

Chapter Text

“Hold on.” Keqing shook her head to Bosacius and looked at Zhongli. “Why is Mr. Zhongli here?”

“Apparently, he has some important information for us,” one of the millelith, General Yuan, answered and offered a chair for Keqing to sit on. He looked at Xiao for confirmation.

Xiao crossed his arms. “Yes.”

“And it was something you couldn’t interrogate him about beforehand and write down in a report?” Keqing asked, walking to stand by her chair but didn’t sit down. “Is it necessary to involve a civilian in this matter? A civilian who has already been far more involved than he deserves to be.”

“Mr. Zhongli here is capable of something we will likely require for this operation to succeed,” Bosacius replied this time and pointedly sat back down on his chair, keeping his hands spread against the table. “Something we have thus far been unable to replicate. If lady Yuheng would take her seat, perhaps I might get a better chance to explain.”

“Keqing,” Ningguang said calmly but pointedly as she sat down on her own chair.

Keqing huffed sharply but sat down all the same. Zhongli appreciated the thought behind the frown she sent in his direction. Although it was unnecessary in this case, it was good that she cared for the citizens in such a way.

“You need not be mindful of me, Lady Keqing,” he said over the table to her, offering her a small smile. “I am honoured if I can offer my help in solving this case.”

“I must say it is rather unusual,” Ningguang admitted, giving Bosacius a long look. “Like many other things have been lately, admittedly. What is this new development we were told about that requires military involvement and such a hastily called up meeting, Marshal Vritras? And what does a funeral consultant have to do with it?”

“So far, we have played a game of hide and seek, where we have exclusively been the seeker and only found stragglers and baits set or abandoned by the ones we truly need to find,” Bosacius started, setting down a hand on the table, at the edge of the map. “But since this morning, the situation has changed. We now have strong evidence to point us to the main bulk of the forces we face, if not their hideout itself. And as far as we know, our enemies do not know of this fact yet.” His gaze went over everyone at the table. “I am sure all of you can understand that acting quickly before we lose this advantage is key to a successful counterattack on those who have dared disturb Liyue’s peace.”

A look from Bosacius received a nod from Menogias, who proceeded to pull an object from his sleeve and set it on the table. A flick of his wrist released a piece of cloth from around it and revealed the loosened coils of the wooden bracelet Zhongli knew all too well. It would have been hard to believe the thorns that were longer than his fingernails had not long ago been stuck in his flesh, in some places all the way down to the bone, if not for the fact that he remembered them coming off so clearly. He wished the adepti would have cleaned the bracelet of blood, but he supposed the object was technically evidence.

Menogias smoothened the fabric under the bracelet against the table with his fingers. “This is the magical item that was attached to some victims of the recent kidnapping incident. According to the captured treasure hoarders, it was given to those considered main targets by their employers and were used to detect elemental energies within the person the thorns pierced. Unfortunately, only one was successfully detached intact, allowing us to examine the item more closely.”

“How exactly was this used?” general Zhi asked, leaning a little closer to examine the bracelet from his seat. “What have you learnt from it?”

The yaksha turned to look at Zhongli, who nodded and undid the button on his sleeve again to reveal his arm underneath. Once the bandage was clearly visible, he raised arm up and forward for everyone to see. “I cannot speak for all the kidnappees, but in my case, a woman wearing an unknown uniform used the power of dendro to tighten this bundle of branches around my forearm. The thorns she grew on the inside of the coils once the bracelet was in place. There are veins in the branches that would glow in reaction to elemental energy those thorns then detect.”

“Unknown uniform,” General Aiguo repeated, thoughtful. “Could you describe it for us?”

“It’s no use,” Xiao intercepted, giving the general a sharp look. “I met this dendro using woman when the rescue operation took place. I fought her, but she managed to destroy her body like so many other enemy agents we have almost managed to capture. But that aside, even I was unfamiliar with her attire. It is unlike any usual styles in Teyvat, recent or historic. It bore some resemblance to the style of clothing of the nation of Khaenri’ah at its peak, but it was different all the same.”

“Khaenri’ah… Now there is a name you do not hear uttered often,” Ningguang said what everyone was thinking. Although the nation still existed, very little of it was even taught at schools and only Snezhnaya had had any correspondence with it among the Seven Nations in hundreds of years. Ever since an unknown incident had all but destroyed the country 500 years ago, the godless nation had secluded itself even further from the world ruled by the Seven. To this day, it was not known what exactly had caused the advanced nation to fall in a matter of days, leaving behind but stragglers of its people and freely wondering machines all across Teyvat. Whatever it had been, historians agreed that whatever plague or accident had struck back then, the rest of the world was lucky it hadn’t spread outwards from the confines of the underground kingdom.

Zhongli had wondered had Morax not recognized the woman’s attire either, but back then they could not have freely communicated about it. Before he could even ask, the answer came to him: Morax had also seen the resemblance to Khaenri’ah’s style in her clothes. But any information past that, the god was unwilling to give him. There was something humans did not know about this incident, and as far as Zhongli could tell, as long as it was not deemed absolutely relevant, he did not need to know of it.

“What does this bracelet have to do with the whereabouts of our enemies?” Keqing changed the subject back to the matter at hand.

“The energy used to make and maintain this bracelet is a similar type that our enemies use in other practices, including their means of travel between locations using specialised portals and gateways,” Bosacius took the lead of the conversation again. “By identifying this energy, it has become possible for us to detect a large number of pre-set gateways they have hidden in the Chasm. Whether these gateways lead to their hideout or not, sabotaging them and rendering them unusable before they can march entire armies through them into our territory on a moment’s notice, is an opportunity that we must not let go unused.”

Bosacius’s fingers tapped one of the markers standing on top of the map, showing the locations of many gates Zhongli had earlier told Xiao about. Some of the markers were a little off, Zhongli realised. He had told Xiao the approximate locations based on landmarks and geological features. Frankly, getting them this right based on his words alone was a feat. Still, a few of the gates he remembered detecting were also missing entirely. On instinct he reached out to correct a position of the closest map marker he saw, but as soon as his fingers touched it, he was stopped.

“Hey!” General Zhi barked at him sharply and stood up. He was a little too far to reach over and grab his arm, which was probably lucky for him. “Don’t touch those! They are there for a reason. If the lord yaksha want you here, so be it. But you will refrain from acting like a curious child and touching everything you see!”

“Ah. My apologies,” Zhongli said, trying to sound as calm as possible, but he could tell that adepti around him were one more word away from snapping back at the human general for his tone. Oh dear… Zhongli thought, hoping the humans in the room were blinder to the mood of the yaksha than he was. I’d better clear this up. “I was merely attempting to correct it. But I realise we were not on that part of the explanation yet.”

“I reported it wrong?” Xiao muttered next to him, looking actually humiliated, though those who did not know him probably were not able to tell.

“There is no need to blame yourself,” Zhongli assured him and moved the marker he had touched to the right spot, a little further away from himself on the map. “As we didn’t have a map at the time, I’d rather say it is impressive you managed to place them as correctly as they are, based purely on my explanations.”

“What?” General Zhi wasn’t the only one looking confused. Only Ningguang was looking at Zhongli from the corner of her eyes without revealing her thoughts on her face.

“Mr. Zhongli is the person who detected and provided us the information about the locations of these gateways,” Bosacius explained, his eyes thinned as he stared back the general who had made the outburst. “And as of now, he is the only one capable of doing so.”

Now it was Zhongli’s turn to be surprised and he retracted his hand from the map where he had adjusted another marker a little. “Were the adepti not able to, even with the bracelet’s aid?”

Bonanus shook her head. “We might be able to do so, but it took you some time to analyse and identify the correct type of energy as well, yes? The same is true for us. Even with your guidance and the bracelet, it might take us precious time we do not have.”

“We sent a yaksha scout to the Chasm and he reported that he was indeed able to detect the gates with the information of where they were and once he was close enough to them,” Menogias added to the explanation. “But if there were to be new gates formed or existing ones moved, we are unlikely to be able to tell.”

“Hold on, back up, please,” Keqing asked and raised her hand. “Why are you capable of detecting these gateways, Mr. Zhongli?”

Zhongli thanked Morax’s foresight of thinking up an answer beforehand to allow him to reply in a natural sounding way. “It is a power granted to me by my vision. I can use the rocks and soil to sense and search for energies I recognize within a certain radius. General Alatus helped me for some hours this morning to scout out locations for the types of energies I had identified within the bracelet.” He hummed a little laugh and shrugged at the baffled expressions he received from the people in the room. “I had… little else to do during my three days in captivity. I thought it might be of use, so I spoke of it to the honoured ones.” Zhongli actually disliked taking credit of Morax’s work, but that could be rectified later.

“That is… most impressive,” Ningguang said, contemplating his answer. “Even as a geo vision user myself, I can hardly imagine what kind of power is involved in making that possible.”

To tell the truth, neither could Zhongli, even after doing a very advanced version of it himself. But he felt that asking for a technical explanation from Morax might give him a headache.

“I rarely find a use for it,” Zhongli replied. “It was my hope the adepti could replicate the skill and perform the task more accurately. Forgive my inadequacies.”

“But if gates can indeed be moved…” general Aiguo muttered into his hand. “I understand now why Mr. Zhongli must participate in this.”

“Exactly,” Bosacius said, nodding deep. “It is likely he will also have to accompany us during the campaign to offer us information if the battlefield changes.”

“I understand but… This does not sit right with me.” Keqing shook her head. “Are we truly so incapable of dealing with this that we must endanger a civilian by bringing him to the frontlines?”

“I never said frontlines,” Bosacius replied and offered Zhongli a nod that he recognized to be a small bow. “I would rather he not be brought to any danger as well. He will stay to the back with the mission control of the millelith. We will situate an adeptus by his side and similarly an adeptus in each company on the field to quickly deliver messages if he detects a change. Is this arrangement agreeable to you?”

He pointed his last question to Keqing but a glance told Zhongli he was being asked as well so he nodded in response, using the moment to adjust another marker on the map. With each one he touched, he could sense Xiao minutely fidgeting more and more, especially when he added a few smaller ones from the little bowl of unused markers next to the map.

“I hope you realise,” Keqing said, relenting a little but clearly not in terms with the arrangement. “That if I was with the enemy, I would try to find and target such a person the instant I realise my enemy can detect the locations and movement of the gates?”

“You do not need to educate me about military tactics, Yuheng,” Bosacius replied with a low, rumbling voice. “We will not let him come to harm.”

Recognizing the weight in the words, Zhongli decided to add to the conversation to hopefully help and persuade Keqing. “I appreciate your concern, Yuheng,” he assured, standing up to reach the final markers he needed to adjust and add on the map. “But as I said earlier, you need not be so mindful of me. I am more than happy to offer my aid in any way I can.” Keqing looked at him with a face that told him that she definitely wanted to say something back.

“A question, marshal,” Zhi asked before Keqing could say anything, looking over the map as Zhongli made the final adjustments. “How are you planning to move an army all the way to the Chasm in a surprise attack without alerting our enemies to the fact that their gates have been discovered?”

“That is one of the main issues we have to solve here, today,” Indarias answered in her brother’s stead. “The adepti can get in place fairly easily, so we can disguise our involvement until the last moment. We could move some troops disguised as miners and researchers if the Qixing would announce, say, a mining operation. One that would perhaps require a few millelith guards as well. Smaller units can also be disguised as treasure hoarders or adventurers. But the number of troops we can get into place with that kind of tactic is insufficient to the scale of the operation. Especially since our enemies can open the gates and attack at any moment if they grow suspicious.”

“The risk such a tactic to the troops already in place while the main force arrives is immense,” general Aiguo commented and rubbed his chin in thought, his eyes wandering from one marker to another as Zhongli finished and sat down. “We will also have to take into account the terrain around the gates in the placement of our troops and do so without them realising we know where the gates are. And if a gate can be moved up and down instead of only sideways, in a terrain like the Chasm we can quickly find ourselves at a strategic disadvantage.”

“Can the gates be moved up and down?” Bonanus asked, looking at Zhongli.

Zhongli leant back on his chair and crossed his arms. “As far as I understand: indeed, they can. Based on the traces of energy around them, they can be moved in any direction within a certain radius. However, I cannot say for certain without witnessing it myself.”

“If it is possible, we must plan taking that into the account,” Aiguo pondered, still frowning at the map markers.

Ningguang cleared her throat. “Is the map now correctly set, Mr. Zhongli?”

Zhongli nodded. “Yes. Every gate should be in place now.”

“Then might I suggest Mr. Zhongli to be dismissed, Marshal Vritras?” Ningguang asked, quickly turning all the attention around the table in her direction. “I must say I agree with Keqing to a degree about his involvement, but I also understand it is necessary. That I will not argue about. But if his involvement in the final plan has been decided and the location of the gates on the map is now accurate, I see little reason for him to be present when we discuss the logistics of troop placement and transportation.”

Zhongli blinked at the Tianquan, surprised. Yes… yes, that makes sense. He, or rather Morax, would have honestly suggested the same with a civilian with no military expertise. What was about to follow was not only about to be a long discussion, but highly confidential as well.

“Right,” Keqing quickly jumped on the support Ningguang offered to her. The look she offered Zhongli was apologetic. “You have been through much these past few days and soon we will have to put more pressure on you with this operation and force you to endanger yourself for us. You should take the time you can to properly rest and heal from your injury while we can still offer it.”

That made sense as well, Zhongli couldn’t help but agree. But… He glanced at the adepti who were looking at him. He didn’t technically need rest and it only felt right to do the most he could in this situation. Xiao had said earlier that they could handle everything for him in the council if needed, but it did not sit well with him to hang back and let others do the work.

He hesitated, cautiously smiling to the young woman across from him. “Thank you, lady Keqing. But I assure you I am fine. It would put my mind more at ease to do everything I can to help here.”

“The consultant stays,” Bosacius said as soon as he got confirmation what Zhongli thought about leaving. “As an integral person to the operation, I’d rather have his opinion on the plans we make.”

“Isn’t that something we can call him back to review when the plans have taken shape?” Keqing said with a confident voice, not intimidated by the look the leader of the yaksha was giving her. “There is no reason for him to sit here and listen to us for hours until then.”

“I must say I agree,” general Zhi admitted, bowing his head a little to Keqing. “I should also remind you that for the sake of success, the details of this operation must remain confidential. The less sources our enemies have to find out about our plans the better. As one of the main targets of the kidnappings, the consultant is already someone our enemies have shown interest in. Should they target him again and succeed, the less he knows the better.”

Bonanus growled. “Are you suggesting we cannot protect him? We have taken measures to keep all the victims safe. And I am certain Mr. Zhongli is trustworthy enough not to tell everything to the first person he meets.”

“These are the same people who already snuck into the palace once and managed to blindsight all of us multiple times with the kidnappings,” Zhi argued. “I do not doubt his ability to keep his mouth shut, but this is a matter of national security. We should remain as careful as possible and prepare for the worst-case scenario.”

Zhongli leant his elbow against the armrest, fingers pressing on his forehead, and sighed a little. Which he was sure was quiet, but the instant he did, Indarias quickly looked at him, which in turn caused Menogias to do so as well. There was discernible concern in their eyes. Why were the adepti so on edge with him?

“The people are perfectly safe inside the palace now, we have made sure of it,” Bosacius did his best to keep up the resistance against dismissing Zhongli. “And if he says he is ready to stay, why should we waste time crafting a possibly ineffective plan and have him review it later? And if he is to know about it anyway, we are already trusting him with the confidentiality of it.”

“Even if we tell him the parts that concern him, that doesn’t mean we have to tell him every detail; that is what makes the difference here. As a person with no military experience, he also adds little value with his presence here. Besides, with the information we have now, I doubt we will have to make entirely new plans no matter what he’d have to say about them later. Any possible small alterations to a plan are easy and fast to make.”

Keqing pressed her palms firmly against the table and looked at Bosacius, defiant. “You adepti understand too little about human endurance. He is injured and has recently spent multiple days in captivity under dubious conditions. Any doctor would agree to not let him overdo it at the moment. When given expectations by the leader of the yaksha himself, what else is person like Mr. Zhongli supposed to do but assure he can do his best to help out? I understand that you currently do not overly trust the Qixing, but do not place pressure on civilians because of it. You invited us here despite your doubts, so that means you at least agree we must work together to solve this. We can work harder so that people like him need not be concerned.”

Ah, that’s right, Zhongli was reminded of the adepti-Qixing dispute, on the top of everything else. He remembered seeing a glimpse of the adeptus guards who had escorted the members of the Qixing to the meeting and were probably waiting outside. That is a thing still as well.

Ningguang glanced silently from Keqing to Bosacius, in thought, before her eyes landed on Zhongli and she spoke. “Unless of course there is something you’re not telling us.”

Bosacius’s brow was deeply burrowed at this point. “You dare suggest I am forcing him to be here…” He stood up briskly, his chair scratching loudly against the floor. “I am convinced of the value he adds to our preparations and trust his own judgement on his condition. I will hear no further arguments on this. If you do not—”

“Enough,” Zhongli said, a little exasperated. He was certain that the way one word from him made Bosacius fall silent instantly was more than a little suspicious to everyone in the room. But it made little difference now. “They are absolutely right, Marshal Vritras. In any normal circumstance, it makes no sense for me to remain. But as general Zhi stated, this is a matter of national security. As such, we should not waste time on pointless arguments amongst ourselves.” He sighed again, raising his head up from where it had leant against his fingers, straightening his posture to convey the confidence he didn’t have. “There is an easy fix to all of this.”

“What are you talking about, Mr. Zhongli?” Keqing asked, cautiously, watching in confusion as Bosacius slowly sat back down without further arguments.

Zhongli took a deep breath, standing up and stepped around his chair. His reservations were making things difficult for others at the moment. That was unacceptable. “Everything that happens in this room is confidential, yes?” he verified one last time as he walked around the table. “Then I shall trust everyone here to keep that in mind.” Had it been his talk with Hu Tao that now gave him the needed push to do this? He couldn’t help but wonder that, as he sat down at the chair at the end of the table, even when the way the atmosphere shifted in the room as he did made his skin crawl. “If this eases your doubts about my presence, we should continue with the matter at hand.”

His final sentence was somewhat drowned under the clatter of chairs as two of the human generals stood up so quickly the furniture paid the price. Only general Yuan remained seated, but he had frozen stiff, staring wide eyed at Zhongli. Looking like he had to force himself to move, he turned his gaze towards the adepti, like expecting a retort of some kind to reprimand the man who had just done something as outrageous as sit down on a seat reserved for the emperor without permission. But the adepti had collectively averted their eyes and looked down at the table, ashamed.

“We’re sorry,” Bonanus said quietly, but the room was suddenly so quiet that it was easy to hear. “We have forced your hand.”

“It’s alright,” Zhongli assured, careful not to raise his voice, trying to sound calm and collected. “As long as this stays within these walls for now, it is not necessarily a bad thing.”

Keqing had covered her mouth and shivered in her seat next to Zhongli, refusing to look up at him. There were a lot of conflicting feelings flashing in her eyes. Disbelief, relief, confusion, wonder… Her fingers clutched tightly around the armrest, trying to regain a sense of calm. On Zhongli’s other side, Ningguang had leant back on her seat and closed her eyes. Out of everyone around the table, she seemed to be the calmest about the revelation, but her lips as well were pressed tightly together as she contemplated the meaning of Zhongli’s presence anew.

Zhongli struggled to keep a straight face at the pressure of the silence from the humans in the room. When the adepti didn’t retort, the expressions of the human men in the room morphed from shock and astonishment to that most aptly described as fear from someone who had just noticed they were in the presence of a god.

“I’m sorry,” general Zhi said hastily and dropped his head into a bow. His face had turned pale. “I have treated you in the most inappropriate manner.”

Zhongli shook his head. He’d rather not spent time on his revelation any longer than necessary. “Do not linger on it. Your concerns were valid, although your words were at times unnecessarily harsh,” he admitted, clearing his throat and gesturing to the standing men. “If the good generals would sit back down, there is work to be done. You are not wrong about my personal lack of experience regarding the matters of the military. Think of me as an observer, for now. I shall provide my opinion, should it be required.” Your opinion, more likely.

<My opinions are yours,> Morax corrected. <Ideas you decide whether or not to act upon. I see you still misunderstand the nature of our union. Whatever you do not voice, is but a thought among others. My experience, should you need it, is yours to use as you see fit. I am simply directing you to the right type of aid you seek faster than you could locate on your own from among my memories.>

Zhongli closed his eyes for a moment. Once again, his and Morax’s sense of natural and unnatural did not add up. That doesn’t feel right to me. You are still the one deciding what are the relevant things to the situation at hand. I do not understand how I am supposed to treat you as merely a part of my subconscious.

<That is most likely because we can freely interact. I’ve had three vessels who have had this close connection with me, yourself included. The other two had the same problem, being able to too closely feel the line between their thoughts and mine. It is easier to accept the connection as something natural when you only know someone as a mere presence or a dream, not a person.> The god huffed. <You have definitely been the most difficult about it so far. We will work on that.>

Zhongli held back the urge to sigh out loud. He didn’t understand how he was to learn to treat Morax like the god wasn’t the one in charge. Not when Morax did so many things on his own to advance their situations because Zhongli wasn’t able to on his own. Even seeing their union as an equal partnership felt wrong. But his doubts about that needed to wait: he needed to act like an emperor should for now, so he decided to save his sighs for a later time. While he had his silent conversation with Morax, the generals had corrected their chairs and sat back down, but the silence around the table laid heavy still.

Zhongli looked at the person who seemed the most distressed still. “Lady Keqing,” he called out as softly as possible, but failed to make the young woman feel more relaxed. Keqing straightened her hunched back like someone had released a string that held her down and the hand she had clutched over her mouth hit against her thighs so forcefully it made a clear sound against the muscle. When their eyes met, Zhongli tried to muster everything he knew about dealing with overwhelmed clients when he continued. “I apologise if my presence makes you uncomfortable. You need not treat me any different than you have. I am touched my wellbeing concerned you so. You were not wrong in saying the things you did. But let me assure you again that I am fine and in no way forced to be here. We both care about a swift and successful solution to this situation, no? Will you work with me and the adepti to see it through?”

Keqing tore her eyes away from his, looking into the opposite direction. “I’m not… uncomfortable…” she bit out, stubbornly, and Zhongli could tell by the look on her face that she had so many things she wanted to say.

“I understand now it wasn’t merely the involvement of the Abyss that brought the adepti to our aid to solve the kidnapping incident,” Ningguang spoke up and opened her eyes. “Although I expect to hear an explanation about this at a better time, you’re right: we have work to do. For now…” She stopped leaning her head against the back of the chair to look at Zhongli instead of the ceiling. Zhongli met her gaze and she was silent for a second as they simply looked at each other. Finally, she exhaled deeply, as if pressure was released from her chest. “It is a relief to see you in good health, your majesty.”

Two days later

Chasm’s edge loomed over the wilderness before him. The air was still, as if nature was holding its breath. The jagged cliffs raised by an ancient battle cut against the low hanging clouds like spears or knives. The spot they were at was shrouded in fog as well, but Zhongli had learnt such things were not as big a hindrance to his eyesight as it might have been prior to his new status. The fog around his position was artificial in nature, raised by Cloud Retainer. Behind him, similarly hidden and quietly working, orders given in whispers and other conversations forgotten, the millelith soldiers were setting up the tents and equipment. At the foot of the hill he kept watch at, another group was setting up an area for attending to the injured.

Zhongli couldn’t help but be amazed of the speed both the adepti and the millelith had worked at. It was only yesterday a larger “mining expedition” to the Chasm had reported that the disturbances the adepti had felt were due to a large infestation of geovishaps. The adepti had gone through the trouble of herding some actual vishaps to the area and made it look like a bigger problem than it would have been. Hence the Qixing had ordered the millelith to secure the area and purge the vishaps before they could cause more trouble at the important mine. The actual size of the troops sent over was being hidden under a partial ward, allowing them to appear smaller in number. A partial ward, distorting the size rather than hiding the groups entirely, was easier to maintain and harder to detect. In addition, several smaller teams had spread out and slowly gotten closer on an undercover mission: disguised as a group of adventures sent out by the Adventurer’s Guild, who had been hired by the Qixing in secret to help.

With all of these people, be it the miners, the guards hired by the mining company (also in cahoots), the millelith sent over by the Qixing, the adventurers sent by the Guild to secure ancient treasures, groups disguised as third parties invading the Chasm like the treasure hoarders and the Fatui to obtain those said treasures first, the adepti scouts and finally rear guard groups hidden also by partial wards and fog like the one Zhongli was a part of: all of them combined had brought the required force to the Chasm. The gateways were still in place and remained closed. Zhongli hoped that meant they hadn’t managed to raise their enemies’ suspicions to the level that would cause them to strike. The geovishap cover-up had hopefully done its job at diverting some suspicions about being discovered. But Zhongli felt that things were going a little too smoothly. At any moment, he expected a gateway to open and a horde of abyssal beasts to pour out at the necks of the soldiers still holding their mining gear. For things to go as intended, the adepti needed to be the ones to first open the gates and force their enemy to hopefully react the way they wanted.

The sound of cloven hooves against the soil alerted him back from his thoughts. “You should not be out in the open,” Moon Carver said, coming to stand beside him. “Even under the cover of the fog.”

The millelith soldiers around him, other than general Yuan who was in charge of the mission control and the rear guard, knew only that he was a vision user who specialised in something needed for the operation to succeed. The soldiers knew that portals would appear and that the adepti would swoop down from the hanging clouds and rise up from the Chasm’s depths when the battle would start. But that was all they had been told. Each soldier knew which company they were a part of and what type of enemies they would likely face, and that was enough for them to stand in attention, no doubts voiced, ready to do their duty. They would only pat the backs of those whose hands at times trembled, in silent camaraderie.

“I understand,” Zhongli said and unclasped his hands he had held behind his back. “Besides, I should get ready as well.” He followed the adeptus’s advice and returned to the tent that was set up against a large stone. The back of the tent was open against the rock and Zhongli sat down beside it on the ground, leaning against it and emptying his mind.

Remembering how overwhelmed by the experience he had been before, he had been worried was it possible for him to accurately follow and report the possible movements of the gateways. But not only were they much closer now, they also knew where to look instead of first using hours to search blindly. He had no need to dive his consciousness as deeply into the earth as before. To ease his worries, Morax had offered to coach him and they had tried the trick from the top of Mt. Tianheng a couple more times, so that Zhongli got more used to the feeling. Although he had participated in the initial meeting, he was still in hiding, so all other preparations had to be left to the actual military personnel and the Qixing. He had only been given reports in the privacy of his room about how things were going. With all the troops mostly in place now, he needed to prove his usefulness and put the practice into good use. If things went wrong and he overexerted himself still, one of the adeptus healers, the one called Wave Soother, was below at the first aid tents to hopefully quickly force his body back into action if needed.  

Moon Carver stood guard beside him as Zhongli became blind to his immediate surroundings. The waves of the earth were as dense as before as he directed his mind to sail through them, but they carried him better than before, allowing him to proceed with less resistance. The closed gateways appeared in his vision like lights in a dark sea. The bigger ones shone brighter, pulsing in a way that told Zhongli they were ready to be used, while the smaller ones remained dim and still. The difference between them was that when opened, the smaller ones were more akin to a normal door in size, only allowing so many people through at once, while the bigger ones would open into wide gates a whole company could march though without much effort. They would concentrate their efforts on the bigger ones, forcing them open, while some smaller units remained watchful for the smaller gates, so that their troops would not get attacked from behind or surrounded.

Zhongli recalled his consciousness and reported the pulsing of the gateways, which possibly indicated someone was about to open them from the inside. At any moment now, Bosacius would give the yaksha vanguard a signal to breach the gates, forcing their enemy to defend the opened paths. They had not been able to ascertain where exactly the gates lead, but neither Morax or the adepti had sensed immediate danger beyond them, so Zhongli had hope they were not about to open the darkest depths of the Abyss upon their soldiers. Ganyu was closer to the frontlines with the wooden bracelet, as the person who had turned out to be most adept at sensing the gateways with its help. She too could warn the soldiers if a path close by was about to be opened.

General Yuan had set up his command station, including the map with all the gates now pinned down and numbered, by the mouth of the tent. According to what Zhongli would report him, he would send signals to the frontlines and direct the troops accordingly with the mix of messengers (both adepti and human), lights and flags. For now, only the messengers were in use to avoid detection for as long as possible. Outside the tent, millelith guards were set up to protect them in the case an enemy needed to be intercepted at their location.

A loud crackle of lightning echoed over the cliffs. The sky around the Chasm darkened and purplish bolts of lightning licked the edges of the clouds. Zhongli quickly dove his mind back to be with the earth, reaching the mine just in time to witness the pulsing lights flash violently bright. The adeptal energy infused spears and swords were wrenched into to the hidden gaps between realities, forcing and slicing their way through the spells keeping them closed. One by one, the even lights turned into burning circles in his vision, with a dark-filled centres, like witnessing a sudden eclipse. And through the darkness, he sensed life.

“Gateways 1 through 3 and 5 have been successfully opened,” Zhongli reported, keeping his eyes closed, as they still felt sensitive to light after the bright flashes from the gates. “It seems something is keeping the 4^th gateway closed from the inside and resisting.” He heard little clacks against wood, telling him that general Yuan was turning the pins on the map to signify opened paths. “There are abyssal creatures on the other side. In large numbers and too ready in formation to consider this a complete surprise.”

“Order the fog to be thinned,” general Yuan said to most likely one of the adepti messengers. “If we have possible lost the element of surprise, it is paramount we can deliver quick instructions to the front. Lanterns ready!”

Zhongli had already dulled his hearing to his surroundings and brought his awareness back to the scene of battle. There was an itch at the back of his mind that he should have been out there as well, help the efforts of the soldiers as the enemy bared their teeth and blades against them. He was unsure was it Morax or himself who initiated that feeling, but he could not allow it to distract him from his own task.

“Gate 13 has been moved fifteen breadths southwest and is about to be opened.”

“Right where we want them,” Moon Carver mused with a pleased tone.

“G13, fifteen southwest!” Yuan’s voice repeated the instructions to the lantern holders, who flashed the appropriate sequence of information forward to the units awaiting their signals up the chasm’s walls.

Indeed, by the time another light flashed to form an open circle to Zhongli’s mind’s eyes, the group of abyss mages that appeared into the open were hit by a swirl of anemo, that turned their own readied elemental shields against them. Every unit set to intercept the tinier gates if opened, was a tightly knit group prepared to deal with many elements. Under the watch of Menogias, the soldiers reacted swiftly and accurately. Over their heads, the previously hidden ballistae fired a concentrated barrage into the bigger portals ahead, commanded by the Yuheng.

Menogias had secretly been a little vexed that his appointed position prevented him from participating in the main fray with his brothers and sisters. He knew the backup squads had needed a level-headed leader, capable of reacting swiftly to changing situations, which he admitted that he was, so he had not argued when Bosacius had brought it up. Especially after Rex Lapis had also voiced his opinion of him being the best choice. So, hiding his annoyance at the sounds of battle he could only witness from afar, he concentrated on his role. And as soon as a flashing light from the peak of the Chasm’s edge relayed information that his mission was about to start, he moved the closest team in accordance and intercepted the enemy.

The last shred of his annoyance disappeared when he saw the mages that came through. This energy… it tingled his senses with familiarity. Yes…

The cryo abyss mage managed to barely yelp, disorientated, as it was dropped to the ground from the protection of its shield at the swirl of elements around it. Before it was aware of its surroundings again, its back crashed against the face of the cliff. A blue, crystallized shield protected its attacker from the brunt of anything it would attempt to do.

Menogias closed his hand around the mage’s throat and let some primal warrior in him enjoy the feeling of catching his prey. The millelith and the junior yaksha under his command would deal with the other mages. This one was his.

“I found you. We just missed meeting each other last time,” he said, voice perfectly calm still. A blue shard of ice appeared atop his free hand, preserved against melting under a glowing shield, and he held it up for the mage to see. “I believe this is yours,” he grumbled with a gradually lower voice, bringing his face closer so that the mage could see the fury in his eyes. “How would you want it returned?”

He did not often allow himself moments of personal vendetta. He was the calm one, that’s why he had been assigned here. But he was prepared to make an exception this time. It would not take long.

In the frontlines, Xiao joined his fellow yaksha to finally slash open the last big gate. The enemy troops consisted of abyssal hounds that once unleashed didn’t seem to follow orders but simply attacked anything on their way, controlled hilichurls that lumbered about mindlessly doing pretty much the same, and groups of humans and abyss mages who attempted to hold some semblance of a united front in between. The millelith alone would have likely struggled against this mixture of enemies, but with the adepti by their side, they stood their ground admirably.

This all brought Xiao’s thoughts back the times of war, when they had stood side by side with their god in near endless battles in the defence of Liyue. Morax had retired his body to the earth and given power to humanity in order to finally rest and be at least to an extent freed of the burden he carried. He had given up most of his immediate power in exchange of flexibility and reform: found a way to stand by his contracts to both Liyue and the adepti without the increasing threat of erosion that it forced him through. Although they had witnessed much, the adepti did not pretend to understand everything their lord had given up to keep his ancient promises. Their god did not need to be powerful to have their loyalty, not anymore. They would always remain his sword and shield.

Now these beasts were about to force their lord back to the battlefield, threatening the peace he had toiled to create. Xiao would never let them. It was their duty to stand firm in defence of their lord and his people. Let him be free of worries that had plagued his mind for thousands of years. Xiao remembered vividly the times an attack on him or his kin had been blocked by a shield or a blade. Nor could he ever forget the hand that had reached out to him through the haze and pain and offered him solace. His lord would never have to wage war again. He would see those who tried to force him extinguished before they could.

A giant hand of a machine appeared through the swirl of the forcefully opened portal and Xiao barely managed to teleport back and out of the way as the ruin machine lumbered through, its eye shining as it readied to attack. Xiao lunged back forward, a nuo mask appearing on his face, shouting an order to the archers to take aim for its weak points. Another machine flew out the portal, its drills slashing against his fellow yaksha who was thrown into the front row of the millelith at the impact. Xiao did not need to see the foot of the next machine making its way through to know that more were coming. He only knew he would stop them, no matter how many there were.

“Ruin machines,” Zhongli reported as quickly as he could when the 4^th gateway finally was pried open, unaware of the thoughts of the adeptus whose energy he sensed. “General Alatus has intercepted them at the 4^th gate.”

“Just who are we up against?” general Yuan cursed under his breath, flipping the correct pin on the map over to mark the change. “Send the alchemy equipped troops from the reserves to their aid. We must obliterate their physical resistances. And send a word to the Yuheng to target the 4^th gate!”

Zhongli was about to reconnect his mind with the rocks around him, when a flash of energy much closer than the others jerked him out of his trance with a gasp. “They’re here!” he shouted a warning alerting the soldiers outside just as a swirling light formed a circle at the edge of his lingering consciousness within the earth. He could not see it from within the tent but he saw the alerted soldiers turn and ready their weapons.

Moon Carver had jumped out of the tent at his shout, past the human general who had grabbed his own sword and was drawing it out of its holster. The adeptus’s cloven hooves stroke against the ground outside, sending out a golden wave that wrapped around the human soldiers, empowering them and, judging by the sounds, did the exact opposite to the troops they were now facing. By the growls and howls he heard following the wave, Zhongli knew what they were now up against.

“Hold your ground!” general Yuan shouted, his sword now drawn and ready as he too left the cover of the tent. “Send message of the attack to General Zhi to move the centre of command until we’re done with them!”

Zhongli got up to his feet, a little unsteady after his repeated trips to the ocean of stone. But he could stand. He summoned his spear and let Morax’s power flow into his muscles. The millelith outside had intercepted the first of the abyssal wolves and Moon Carver’s horns shone bright as he speared the hound that threatened to tear the throat of one of their men. The pulse of power from the adeptus repelled the skewered beast, sending it flying against its kin.

“Avoid the claws and spikes when they glow,” the adeptus ordered with a booming voice that wasn’t louder than normal speech but still sounded across the battlefield for all to hear. “The corrosion they spread can infect whoever as much as touches the one hit. Send for the healers.”

The first wolf that appeared beside the tent was blind sighted by Zhongli’s attack from within the tent, dealing critical damage, but the other that appeared beside it slashed straight towards him with its claws. The attack whiffed through the air where he had been and struck against the map table, splintering it to the ground. The wolf whirled around and attempted to strike him with his tail as soon as he dodged, but the attempt was stopped by Moon Carver who appeared back beside him. Ignoring the adeptus’s wish stay in safety, Zhongli struck the first wolf again with his polearm, forcing it to stagger away.

Concentrating his elemental energy, Zhongli raised a pillar from the ground, briefly noting it to be different in design from what he was used to. The power of geo pulsed outwards from the now oddly regal looking structure, causing the wolf he had struck to whimper one last time before it grew too weak to maintain its form in their world and was pulled back to whence it came. Even through the rush of adrenaline, Zhongli took a moment to be amazed that he had managed to defeat the creature in three strikes, weakened by Moon Carver though it might have been.

A pained yelp from a soldier outside brought him back to the present and he lunged at the nearest wolf he could see. Morax’s experience was flowing through his senses into his muscles, directing his movements. Letting it flow freely allowed him to keep his mind clear even as his heart hammered. The corrosion had managed to spread among the millelith and also hit the adeptus who had worked as messenger. They would be unable to fight for long before succumbing to the damage from the receding skin that burned across their arms and up their necks like acid.

A warning, a new presence that flared in his senses brought his attention from the wolf he had blocked with another pillar, to the direction their enemy had first arrived from. The gateway they had opened still flared open, this one different in nature, kept open by some from the other side they could not see. Another pack of wolves now stepped through the portal, snarling as they readied to lunge. Their energies were swirling, telling him how some of them were about to teleport as soon as the someone or something holding their invisible leash would give them permission.

“No…” he breathed out, glancing at the millelith soldier beside him who had fallen to his knees gasping in pain as soon as Zhongli had pushed the wolf away from him. The man was hardly the only one. There were no doubt reinforcements on the way, but would they make it in time? Zhongli raised his hand and let the elemental energy he had gathered coalesce above his head. It wasn’t much, but if he could…

<Follow my lead,> Morax spoke up and the energy around his arm flared in a different way.

Instead of collecting it above his palm, Zhongli directed the energy into the sky. The clouds darkened and swirled. He felt a string of energy from beyond their veil and pulled on it as soon as his energy connected with it. As he did, a glowing circle appeared under his feet and the wolves’ he held in his gaze. This all only took him a second, but to him personally, time seemed to slow down as the clouds parted. A meteorite descended through the repelled clouds, painting the land around him in an orange tinted light, before it crashed against the pack of wolves, burying them underneath an explosion upon the impact that dispersed the rest of the fog around them and violently flapped the tail of his coat in the wind. A few wolves shattered then and there, while the few that remained were encased in stone and remained still as statues.

Zhongli took a deep breath and a steadying step as the energy around him dissipated. He knew without looking there were a ton of eyes on him. He felt he was about to develop a severe headache.

Morax… he said slowly, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. What was that?

<Do you like it?>

Yup, there’s that headache. That is not the issue here…

Chapter Text

Zhongli resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and just close his eyes for a moment, because that would have meant turning his attention away from the enemy. How should I even begin to explain this to anyone?

Morax was quiet for a second before he admitted. <I can see how that might be difficult, yes.>

Oh sweet heavens…This was even further cementing that Zhongli would never be able to think of Morax as just a part of himself. Surely other people’s “subconsciouses” were not this arbitrary?

<It solved the immediate problem we had and bought time for the reinforcements to arrive. You were not planning to hide much longer anyway, were you?> Morax sounded unimpressed.

Zhongli wondered if slowly counting to ten might work… Apparently not.

<Stay vigilant, the petrification won’t last long. There is also the person holding the portal open who we have to deal with.> After a brief pause, the god added. <You did not answer my question.>

What?

<Did you like it?>

He sighed, aloud, giving up. “Yes Morax, very nice,” he muttered under his breath.

<Admit it: it was effective.>

Moon Carver appeared beside him and leant down to whisper in his ear now that there was a break in the battle. “Are you alright? You should not exert yourself.”

Why would I not be alright? Zhongli shook his head, trying to centre himself, and raised his polearm as the stone casing around the remaining wolves shattered. “I’m okay. But we should be rid of these things as soon as possible.”

<He is cautious because they do not know the extent you can pull on my power before your human body starts to give out under the pressure,> Morax explained, reminding Zhongli of the fatigue and pain he had experienced many times after soul diving with a vivid flash of memory. <Technically speaking, neither do we. Do not act too reckless, it might backfire.>

Zhongli admitted the potential danger and allowed Moon Carver to stand between him and the enemy without protest. Yuan had ordered a volley of arrows to be fired as soon as he had gotten over his shock about the sudden meteor. It was perhaps easier for him than the common soldier since he knew of Zhongli’s identity, and his swift professional response broke most of the millelith out of their bewilderment as well. For now, they were in the middle of a battle, and any soldier valuing their life knew to leave questions for later. The remaining wolves were few, but more enemies were still appearing through the open portal. This time hilichurls and some manner of feline beasts that most resembled the tigers native to Sumeru, but were darker and more muscular, their spines and tail covered in a purple shell.

“What the hell are these?” one of the younger yaksha muttered a question to Indarias, yanking his claymore off the bizarre carnivore he had slain. The beasts had started appearing suddenly from the portal they were in charge of neutralizing, and although they could be slain in a few hits, they had caused a lot of damage to their forces before everyone had adapted to the swift strikes.

Indarias snorted. “They reek of unnatural energies and miasma, so nothing you need worry over getting extinct. The faster we rid the world of them the better. Now kill any and all you see before their presence starts affecting the humans.”

“Yes sir!” her junior replied as they both jumped back into the battle to push past the remains of their enemies and invade the portal beyond. As soon as the bulk of the threats were dealt with on this side, specially formed strike teams would investigate the other side of each portal. Their enemies had been prepared for an attack and among them were opponents that had been more difficult to deal with, but they were outnumbered. The forces of Liyue had the upper hand in this battle and it seemed impossible to Indarias their enemies did not know that. She knew her brothers and sisters must have noticed the same. And still they struggled and kept sending more forces through the gates to be killed. Indarias knew she needed to clear out these disturbances as soon as possible to investigate the other side and see what they were protecting. Or stop whatever they were buying time for.

Indarias was busy burning off the face of an enemy human who had attempted to spear her while she had been distracted by the next deformed tiger, when the hollow yet clear blow of a horn rang out and echoed from one wall of the Chasm to another. It was a sound that signalled all the adepti as well as the millelith officers that one of the worse scenarios they had prepared for had occurred: the mission control was under attack.

To the human generals it meant the undisturbed flow of orders needed to be adapted to the current state of battle. To every millelith officer it meant to regroup their teams and keep things closer under their control until given a signal that the situation had stabilized. To the speediest, selected adepti it meant an instant removal from the frontlines to join the rear guard. To Ganyu it meant a retreat from the battle to stand by general Zhi with the accursed bracelet in hand, ready to read the flow of energies and predict the movement of the gates. To Menogias it meant that until Ganyu established a connection, he needed to stay in higher alert to have his units in favourable position in the case the smaller gates were used. And to every adeptus that remained in battle it meant a chilling weight of concern and a simultaneous hot burst of anger in their chests: a mixture they directed at the enemies standing before them.

To Indarias it meant there were too many enemies remaining between her and her objective. Manifesting a mask on her face, she tossed the still burning corpse in her hand aside and let out a battle cry that shook the abyss mage on her way enough to interrupt its chanting. Prevented from regathering its shield, the mage had no choice but to be introduced to her sword and its bubbles were vaporized into the air by the heat the yaksha radiated. Indarias left the mage behind and slashed her flaming edge across the torso of the next enemy on her way. She wanted to leave these scum be and head back to the rear guard to burn the hands that dared to try and harm their god again. But she could not. That was not her task. So, until she was done with here, she could not go.

Shouting orders to the troops around her, she charged towards the gateway still held forcefully open by adepti magic. It was right there. She could have gone through right now, if not for this incessant flock of nuisances she could not leave to do as they pleased while she was in charge. “Thin their numbers!” More. Enough to leave the rest to the others without endangering the entire formation. Her sword might have concentrated on the task at hand with fierce accuracy, but with the blow of the horn, her mind, as well as the minds of many others she knew, was determined to finally find those behind this and end their schemes. For the peace of Liyue. For the peace of that person. Her mouth might have been shouting orders to live or die, depending on who she spoke to, but her heart screamed in a different tone. For Rex Lapis!

That tone was so very different from the cloying one that spoke to Zhongli in person.

“What a pleasure to meet you in person, your divine majesty,” the abyss herald greeted him so casually it almost seemed like his weapon wasn’t currently stuck between the prongs of Moon Carver’s horns, stopped short from reaching the person he addressed. “So nice of you to come out of your little mountain house to all the way out here to see us. Being granted an audience is so difficult these days. But now, we have finally found you.”

“You should save your words to those who they might fool, fiend,” Moon Carver warned and the joust of blade versus horn shifted and shivered as the adeptus stepped more firmly between his emperor and the herald.

“Fool? Why, you misunderstand. I have not told a single lie here,” the herald replied, releasing his weapon’s form and freeing it from prongs. He retreated away from the instant attack the adeptus sent in his direction and landed a good distance away. “I truly am happy to have him right here before me at last. And now, instead of some pesky barriers, the only thing between us getting better acquainted is a deer.”

“Your insolence knows no bounds,” the adeptus said, his voice lowering, but he stayed firmly by Zhongli’s side without chasing after the abyss herald. His entire body was emitting a golden light that was ready to be used in offence or defence. “Even if you found your manners, one such as you is not fit to stand before him.”

“How the mighty warrior archon has fallen,” the herald kept mocking as the portal behind him shimmered and two abyss lectors joined him by his side. “Reduced to sitting in a fancy chair and having others do his work while a group of educated pets pamper his every need.” He resummoned his weapon and formed it into shorter blades attached to his hands. The air rippled around him as the lectors gathered their magic to join him. “How many will you sacrifice by cowering behind their backs before you accept the truth? You are weak. And the weak have no right to stand above others. Let me show you to your rightful place in this world, your majesty.”

Zhongli grunted a little and tightened the grip on his polearm. He kept his expression steady and chose not respond, worried someone would find out that the herald’s words actually hit a little too close to home. Moon Carver had told him to stay close, but that was before the two lectors had shown up. He had never fought abyss creatures like them, and wouldn’t have even known what they were called, if not for Morax. He also knew that battling all three at once would not be easy, but that one he could have pieced together without the god’s aid. The millelith were currently fighting the rest of the enemies, who had doubled in number with the appearance of the abyss herald.

Golden light flashed and a shockwave shattered the magic projectiles in the air. Moon Carver’s horns once again intercepted a blade, stopping the spinning motion of the herald, which sent a shower of cold water outwards from the area of impact. The blade in the other hand tried to stab the adeptus in the neck, but it whiffed past, redirected harmlessly elsewhere by a golden seal that flowed down from one of the prongs and caused the space around the adeptus to distort for just the split of the second needed to avoid damage.

“How many can you stop?” the abyss herald challenged and attacked again as the lectors floated to the opposite sides, charging their attacks, intending on finding a gap to strike through.

“As many as you will attempt.” As he said it, Moon Carver’s horn started to shine brighter once again and the abyss herald was repelled away with force. But the herald teleported away from the mitachurl he would have collided with just in time and reappeared as composed as he had been the entire fight. Not that one could see facial expressions under his mask, so it was more the posture and calm demeanour that told the story.

The two lectors released their spells from opposite directions, fire and lightning scorching and crackling through the air in promise of pain. At that moment, various forms stormed across the land and down from the sky, striking blades and elemental attacks into the enemies as the adepti arriving as reinforcements wasted not one moment to join the fight. There were seven of them, in forms of both beasts and human, two now attacking both of the spell-flinging abyss elites, while two joined the fight against the other forces with the humans. One clashed her claws against the abyss herald’s blades. The launched spells were repelled by another blast and a flash of golden light.

The three abyss elites now for the first time let their annoyance be heard in their voices as they attacked again. With the total on eight adepti present, the flow of battle had instantly changed. Unfortunately, the casualties among the millelith were many and not all of the adepti had returned from the frontlines uninjured.

Moon Carver was breathing heavily, the shine of his horns receding slightly, leaving the tips dull brown in stark contrast to the rest.

“Are you alright?” Zhongli asked and attempted to move in a better position to join the fight again himself, but the adeptus moved along with him.

“One can well protect you still,” Moon Carver assured, his hooves planted firmly to the ground, not intending to let even heaviest blow waver himself. “But one asks you stay close, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli could not stop the bothered grunt from coming out his throat or the frown that appeared on his face. He understood that in terms of chess, he was the king they were not allowed to lose in order to win the game. But he wasn’t used to being protected like this. He might have not been the type to seek out a fight, but whenever he was involved in one, he had always seen it as his foremost duty to have every ally make it out safely. If things turned too dire or dangerous, he prioritized retreating over winning if it meant a safer outcome. Right now, although he knew retreating wasn’t an option and that he needed to stay safe personally, listening to the sounds of battle he couldn’t help with, or wasn’t allowed to help with, was agonizing.

People were getting hurt because of him. All of these people were here because of him. This entire battle was happening because of him. And all he did was cower behind the backs of others while blood was spilled. Just like the abyss herald had said.

The adepti had told him repeatedly over the past few days that he need not fight. That if there was danger, he could leave things to them and escape when a chance came. Even Morax seemed conflicted: half wanting to join the fray and fight alongside everyone, to personally punish the perpetrators and see things through himself. But the other half wanted Zhongli nowhere near the danger. Knowing what had happened to his last vessel, Zhongli could understand both mindsets. But that also meant that Morax was of little help in soothing the emotional storm that swirled in his gut and caused his hand to shake. Ultimately, this all came down to him not being strong enough to have the adepti trust in his safety in battle or capable enough to accomplish what the God of Contracts wished to achieve. He was weak.

Just like the abyss herald had said.

A swirl of darkness, that reminded him of one of the most unpleasant feelings he could remember, around the herald’s arm caused Zhongli to disregard Moon Carver’s request to stay put and he pushed his way past the adeptus. “Fúxa, stop!” he shouted to the adeptus whose claws were retreating and striking again in quick succession to overwhelm her opponent. “Get away from him!”

The half tiger adeptus was shocked to hear the order but to her credit her reaction was fast nonetheless. The tendrils of dark energy flared as the abyss herald chased the retreating adeptus. Fúxa was faster than the herald but where his hand didn’t reach, the dark energy reached forwards, far further out than what the woman Xiao had fought had been able to control. A loud yelp erupted from Fúxa’s throat as the pull of darkness extracted energy straight from her soul and the sound turned into a relieved gasp for air as a glowing pillar of stone rose from the earth between her and the herald. The path of the tendrils of energy was cut off and instead of the adeptus, they now licked against the pillar, which pulsed a few times at the contact, before disappearing.

The herald had been distracted long enough for Fúxa to recollect and balance herself. “Thank you, my lord,” she breathed out quietly as she lowered herself to intercept her opponent again.

Before she could, a pained scream brought their attention to the other adepti and they realised that similar darkness released by the herald was now swirling around the two lectors. The two adepti fighting the fire lector had successfully escaped out of the darkness’s reach, but one fighting the electro lector had been caught and pushed to the ground as the hungry energy gnawed at her soul. Her partner adeptus blasted a ball of ice to the lector’s face, forcing him back and managed to grab his partner before the tendrils reached them again.

Zhongli grimaced, waiting for enough elemental energy to gather again to summon another pillar. Since those were a mix of Morax’s power and his own, technically only enhancing what he could already do, they were fairly easy to use. Normally he could only hold one at a time, but it seemed possible now for him to hold onto multiple ones at once. He would litter the entire battlefield with them if it would stop these abyss creatures from doing at least a little damage.

“Are these the other types bracelets we were told about?” the adeptus, who had quickly come to drop off his friend to Zhongli’s side, asked. Before he finished, he already turned around with ice frosting the air around him, while Moon Carver blocked an electro blast the lector sent after them.

“Yes,” Zhongli replied and grabbed hold of the injured adeptus who seemed disorientated and out of breath, but otherwise mostly unharmed. “Do not let the energy they emit touch you!”

“Hey, come now,” the herald commented, still with a hint of sweetness in his voice but it was quickly melting into anger as he went on. “These things are state of the art and can’t be pulled out just whenever. Show some courtesy and let us use them properly. After all, they were made especially with you in mind!” the herald shouted and charged at the adeptus he was facing but Fúxa dodged out of the way, the tendrils licking only air where she had been. The determined look on her face faltered when the herald charged past her without stopping. Luckily Moon Carver was alert and a total of three seals flowed down from his horns and were raised into the air in between him and the herald before the attack made contact. The abyss herald hissed and the darkness around him surged, causing the seals between them to crack and start splintering. “Consider it a gift!”

Fúxa intercepted before the seals broke entirely, attacking the herald’s back and pulling him away. The herald was thrown of balance and tried to slash his blades after Fúxa when she retreated, but was sent flying by a very angry kick from Moon Carver. This time, the herald did crash against the ground before he could recover. He rolled up quickly and when he spoke, the sweetness was completely gone from his voice.

“You were supposed to be the easy one!” he screeched and water surged along with the darkness around him. “Quit hiding, you weakened little godling! Is there nothing left of your pride!” With his words, he launched forward blades of water that were fused with the darkness, making it look like the blades were steaming black gas as they moved. The water blades flew in various directions, striking against whoever was on the way, leaving cuts in the rocks and cliffsides around.

The flurry of attacks stopped abruptly, when the herald was stabbed from behind with a sword. The blade wrenched its way past his armour to make contact, using a crack the battle with the adepti had made to draw blood.

“Surprise,” general Yuan grunted between his teeth in the effort to stab his blade deeper into the creature, but the herald yanked himself off the sword and a blade of water found its mark in counterattack and blood spilled to the ground.

“General!” Fúxa slid across the ground from behind the herald and grabbed the human man as he fell, saving him from a finishing blow the enraged herald stabbed against the ground, sending a geyser of water into the sky in an explosion of power.

“Look around you and think carefully what you do,” Moon Carver’s voice boomed across the battle field and he stomped the ground, taking a few steps to face the herald across the battlefield.

The herald wasn’t blind, now that he decided to look and assess the situation again. The gateway that had sent out new enemies had closed. Around him stood no longer only adepti but also the millelith soldiers still capable of fighting. And with conclusion of the battle against the riffraff he had called to his aid, there were two new adepti who now stood ready to join a fight against him alongside Fúxa and Moon Carver. The abyss lectors were at the end of their rope. Their battle was about to end in defeat.

“Unacceptable!” The waters engulfed the herald, forming an armour of raging torrents all across his body. The ceramic bracelet in his arm lashed out in all directions, licking towards any trace of energy it could reach, before it was all sucked in, leaving behind a halo of darkness around his arm as he raised it to the sky. “I will not fail the orders given me!”

Fúxa felt a chill run down her spine and she charged forward. “I don’t like this! Stop him!”

The adepti and millelith alike followed her command, but the armour of torrents could not be breached fast enough.

Zhongli knew that behind his mask the herald was looking straight at him the next he spoke, not minding the amount of people who had charged into action in a futile attempt to stop whatever was to come. He too felt the same chill down his spine as the adepti did when the energy around the bracelet condensed and distorted his view of its details.

“Keep looking, your majesty! I want to see the look in your eyes when you realise there are no backs to hide behind!”

With a summoning of a water blade, the bracelet shattered.

Was it possible for darkness to be called bright? For an explosion to simultaneously suck matter inwards and explode it outwards?

Darkness engulfed everything underneath it in the perimeter, hiding light and shadow alike, but causing a flash a pain in the eyes like the type you got from looking into the sun. It swirled across the ground and air like a living being, stones cracking and wood splintering on its path. Where the explosion pushed the physical body, the darkness pulled on the souls in search of energy to engulf to keep itself alive longer. Despite the outwards force of the explosion creating a black wind even where the burst itself didn’t reach; dark clouds gathered above, like beckoned to the storm underneath. The force of the explosion engulfed also the two abyss lectors, shattering their artefacts as well, creating two other, smaller but as dangerous explosions of the same kind.

The energy storm persisted around him as seconds ticked by and the abyss herald felt it tear even at his own armour like a badly trained beast. But it was alright. This would not kill him. At the end of this, the scene around him would be that of despair and destruction.

He would not fail.

A polearm stabbed through the darkness and struck against his armour, right into his chest. The power of fire erupted from the tip of the blade, causing steam to rise from the torrents. At the same time, a hand reached out to him, causing waves of frost to creep outwards from the touch. The darkness sucked in the elemental energy, but it touched him always before that happened. And when a set of sharp claws attached onto his back and forced anemo to swirl around his body, the armour of raging torrents evaporated from around him.

As the energy storm from the bracelet died down and allowed him to see, he saw the face of the adeptus who was pushing the flaming polearm now into his chest when the armour was no longer in the way. Another weapon stabbed him through the side but he couldn’t turn around to discern what it was or who held it. Weakened, his body succumbed to the pull of the darkness and started to crumble and disappear.

“Impossible…” the abyss herald managed to utter as the dark winds started to let up and he saw the unaffected adepti around him. They should have been the ones crumbling to dust. Not him. Why? Something was glimmering in the air. At first, he had thought it to be a trick his dying mind played on him, but it was too clear. Too constant. Too orderly. Too bright.

Before they too crumbled, his eyes looked past his attackers and to the man across the field. Watching, as the herald had requested. But there was no sign of the despair he had wanted to see. Only more of that same shimmering glow in the air that burned his retina even as they cracked and became blind.

As the abyss herald and the abyss lectors all were crumbling into dust, their threats neutralized, they were quickly pushed out of the minds of the victors of the battle. Disbelief and astonishment settling in their faces, the adepti collectively turned around in the same direction as soon as the last shred of darkness dissipated into the air, harmless. They had reacted as per their senses, honed by centuries of battle, had told them: seizing the opportunity when it arose. But as the battle subsided and they had a moment to think things through, they found themselves stunned. Many of the millelith soldiers collapsed to the ground, their legs giving out as they too realised how close to death they had been: a death they hadn’t even understood the method of, and what or rather who had saved them. The raging darkness that had covered the field had been a completely unnatural and terrifying experience, but now it had subsided and their side was victorious. There had been no casualties thanks to the glowing shields that circled around them in protection.

Zhongli’s hands shook, still spread to the side after he had sent out any and all power he could throughout the field. His breathing heaved in and out of his throat and his chest rose in rapid succession, struggling to meet the demand for air. Balance swaying to the side, he finally broke the stance he had held in order to keep himself from faltering while the enemy could still see him.  He barely managed to stay standing as his horizon tilted, but he stopped seeing clearly soon after, his eyesight fogging up and becoming a mess of lights and shadows. His hands clawed at his chest in a desperate attempt to pull on his clothes on reflex when he felt no air reaching his lungs.

“Rex Lapis? Are you unwell?”

“Please, sit down, you shouldn’t push yourself. Do you need anything?”

This felt like the very first time this had happened: like someone had grabbed onto his ribs from the inside and was pulling them back down whenever he attempted to breathe in. His throat was constricting around nothing and hurt like he had swallowed something hard and jagged that was still lodged inside. He barely registered it when his knees hit against the ground.

“Rex Lapis!”

“Oh no, no my lord, please: stay strong!”

The voices were distant, drowning under the sound of his own heart that hammered in his ears with a dull echo. There was only one voice that remained clear over it.

<Listen to me. Follow my rhythm and breathe.>

How was he supposed to breathe when it felt like instead of air, his lungs were filling with stone? He felt the natural urge to struggle against the feeling but his hands and feet felt like lead and barely flinched as he shuddered.

“My lord, please: it is done. It’s over.”

“You’ve saved us. You can let go. Please. Please lower the shields.”

Let… go? How? The shields… Lower—

<The shields will disappear on their own. Now breathe.>

There was a rhythmic sound in his ears that helped him focus. He was vaguely aware that someone was holding onto him.

“We’re the ones who are supposed to protect you. Please, do not do this to us.”

Do… what?

<Zhongli. Breathe.>

Although he still couldn’t get a satisfying amount of air in his lungs with a breath, something was calming his nerves and his sense of panic subsided. His vision started to clear.

<That’s it. Focus.>

Focus. He closed his eyes. Breathe…

“Hurry!”

“Oh my goodness… Rex Lapis?!”

Something soothing and cool washed against his skin. It felt like water, but didn’t leave his skin wet. His skin drained the fake water like a sponge and underneath it changed its refreshing coolness into warmth, spreading like he had stepped into a warm bath.

“Can you hear me, my lord? Everything will be fine, I promise. Follow my voice.”

“Soother…”

“He’ll be fine. He is already getting past the worst of it. But he needs to rest. Help me lay him down. As comfortably as we can here. Moon Carver, can you help?”

He was laid to rest against something soft. She kept talking to him for a while. He was told to breathe and relax: let his body recover at its own pace. There was no hurry. No strain. Zhongli did not want to do nothing and simply lay here, but there was little else he could do. His body felt incredibly heavy and was begging him not to move. No matter what his mind said, he was physically unable to even try. He heard a relieved breath and a pleased reply when he cautiously nodded in response for the first time.

“What happened here?” Wave Soother asked her fellow adepti as soon as Rex Lapis breathed easier and seemed to relax. She kept her palm hovering over him, feeding the aches of his body her power to heal. The water was getting absorbed at an alarming rate that honestly made her worry. “I saw a dark cloud and felt strong winds. Then suddenly I’m being hauled over and Rex Lapis is close to killing himself with residual strain.”

“The enemy had the bright idea to take as many of us down with him as he could. That one cretin condensed his power into a small area before letting it explode and create an energy storm,” Choahuo replied and tapped her polearm against the ground, impatiently. “But Rex Lapis shielded us and the humans from the storm while we finished those asshats off.

“Language, sister, you’re in the presence of our lord.”

“He… shielded you? All of you? But… that’s…” Wave Soother looked down at the resting emperor, not knowing what to say.

“The explosion didn’t reach under the hill then?” Moon Carver verified and nodded, pleased that the medic area was safe, but tried to keep as still as possible otherwise, to allow Rex Lapis to rest against him peacefully. “Good. As much as one wishes to take a moment here, the battle continues. The results here must be told to our comrades immediately. One will take care of things here: half of you should return and take with you a report to our kin that our lord is safe for now.”

The adepti looked at each other for a few seconds to come to a silent agreement, before four of them departed back towards the frontlines. Moon Carver made a rumbling noise, satisfied with the ones that had remained as extra protection. They could not move their lord around before he had recovered a little more from getting overwhelmed by his power collapsing in on him, like getting crushed under a weight you no longer had the strength to carry. Still, they needed to get him out of here as soon as possible. There was no telling what these opponents would next throw at them. They needed to be prepared for anything. In thought, his eyes wandered back to the emperor.

“Is there something on your mind, friend?” Fúxa asked, hastily wrapping a piece of cloth around the injury the herald had left on her hand.

“How long has it been, one can’t help but wonder,” Moon Carver mused quietly. “When one was last enveloped in the power of our god?”

Choahuo, who had taken it to herself to scan their surroundings for remaining threats, glanced over her shoulder in their direction. “Some incarnations our lord has taken have been able to utilize the shield in battle. But I don’t remember an instance of more than a few at once.”

Wave Soother hummed gently and let her waters swirl in a steady rhythm against the emperor’s skin. “You know, this is the first time I have a moment to stop and be near him. I didn’t realise how much I missed it.” It was the same type of feeling that hits when arriving in a familiar place after being lost or seeing someone you care about after a long time. No matter what face he took or what voice he spoke with, that sense of warmth about their lord was always the same.

“Just wait until we can hold the Rite and help his power stabilize,” Fúxa grinned, fastening the ready bandage with her teeth. “I’d love to see the looks on the faces of these guys if they dare to try again after that. Let alone in a decade or two. As if we’d ever let them, of course.”

“That herald was already so confused we could move still. Serves the sucker right after he had the nerve to mock Rex Lapis.”

“Who has a bad tongue now, brother? But really, without the shield, we would have been on the defensive,” Choahuo noted. “Probably would have taken a lot out of all of us too and no way could we have protected all the millelith. That energy sucking vortex was the worst. I’m amazed it didn’t suck in the shield.

“It did suck it in, I saw mine crumble at the edges. It just wasn’t enough.”

“Honoured ones,” a voice spoke up and the adepti turned their attention to general Yuan who was unsteadily limping closer with the help of a millelith soldier, clutching a cloth against the bleeding wound running down from his ear to his shoulder and chest. He looked down at the man resting against the adeptus stag on the ground with a frown on his face, looking for words. “Is he…”

“He will be fine in a moment,” Wave Soother assured, understanding, and let some of her droplets gently rub against the cheek of the resting man. “He overdid it a little, that’s all.” She then glared at the general because her sense of healer responsibility could not take the sight of the man walking about. “You on the other hand, general, need immediate attention.”

General Yuan closed his eyes, keeping the pressure over his wound the best he could. “I managed to dodge the worst of it. The wound is long, but not deep. I’ll see to it in a second.” He couldn’t turn his head much, but glanced over his shoulder towards the millelith who were tending to the wounded now and winding down from battle, but the eyes of many kept wandering to their direction. “How are we to report this, honoured ones? I assure you my men can all keep a secret when demanded but this—”

“There is no need,” Zhongli interrupted, only half aloud, but loudly enough to hear. He still kept his eyes closed, knowing from experience that they were currently sensitive to light.

He heard a few surprised grunts around him. “You were awake, my lord? How are you feeling?”

He nodded slowly and raised his hand to touch Wave Soother’s own that was still hovering in a circle between his chest, neck and face, easing the heaviness in his body. But he could breathe enough to talk cautiously now. “I’m alright. Please go tend to the wounded.”

“Are you certain?”

Zhongli nodded again and when the healer retreated her hand, he continued. “The reason my status was kept a secret was to prevent our enemies from concentrating an attack on me. So at this stage, the charade no longer serves a purpose. The soldiers here deserve to know in any case, I owe them an explanation.” He took as deep a breath he could at the moment, still feeling a weight like some was sitting on his chest. He slowly opened his eyes, thankful for the heavy veil of clouds that kept direct sunlight from his eyes. “I should… come see them in person.”

“Ooh no, no, no: you are not standing up without my permission yet, your majesty,” Wave Soother ordered as her water droplets started soaking into Yuan’s wound, cleaning it and stopping the bleeding as the enchanted water coated the torn blood vessels protectively.

“As soon as you’re well enough, we will move you to a safe location,” Moon Carver said and bent his head down, softly touching Zhongli’s shoulder. “We cannot guarantee the enemy does not possess more troops they can send after you.”

Zhongli frowned and grunted, but he was still a little too tired to have it sound as annoyed as he felt inside. He attempted to get his hand into a position to push himself up, but he soon realised it was an impossible effort if he wanted to talk at the same time, so he had to make a choice which to do first. “All of this is happening because of me. The least I can do to all the people endangering their lives at this very moment, is to remain and help the effort in any way I can. I will not cower in a safe place while others face my enemies.”

“Your majesty,” general Yuan said firmly, bringing Zhongli’s eyes to himself. “My men can return to their loved ones after today because you protected us. You have fought alongside us fully knowing the risk these people pose to yourself. We shall not forget it. It is our duty and honour to protect the peace of Liyue, like we have trained to do. If you have more enemies, Rex Lapis, you can send them our way.”

Zhongli stared at the man, at a loss for words, too flustered to form a sentence. The general and the soldier who had helped him over had both bowed down to him at the end. He averted his gaze, an unpleasant feeling gnawing at his gut. “I…”

<Shush,> Morax said, gently but pointedly. <These people are doing their duty and following their own creed to protect their country, home and loved ones. For the safety of Liyue, our enemies needed to be stopped, regardless of whether they were after Rex Lapis specifically or not.>

Zhongli closed his eyes and nodded. It was time he tried to accept the feeling of being out in the open, publicly, as a person who stands above others in hierarchy. Being openly respected so formally was something he needed to get used to.

Morax kept talking as he collected his thoughts. <We were lucky this time, but listen well: not even a god can always protect everyone or magically fix any problem. Stretching thin over an area larger than yourself will only result in weakened defences and tears that wear you down and let things seep through, until nothing you wanted to protect is safe. We are not omnipotent. If even one of us was, the Archon War wouldn’t have ravaged the world for as long as it did. Not letting people learn, grow and make their own decisions in this world is akin to never letting a bird fly out of its nest. A god’s duty is to watch over and lead their people, but the people are still responsible for themselves. And they have as much a right as any god or their follower to stand in the defence of things they cherish. I advise you to not deny that right from them.>

I won’t, Zhongli promised, taking a deep breath. “I understand,” he said to Morax as well as general Yuan, looking back towards the humans who had waited for him to end the silence. “I shall inform you then, should I require your aid again. Please rest for now, general Yuan, and tell your men to do so as well. We must see all the injured are attended to before the company can resume effective work. Once all of this has settled, perhaps I will take an opportunity to meet with them in person, since I have now gotten a taste of being comrades in arms.”

The soldier accompanying him could not hide the shock on his face, but general Yuan was a picture military professionalism in his response and bow. Or as professional as he was able to, with the gash in his upper body, but still remarkably so.

“Are you able to move, my lord?” Fúxa asked, coming to kneel down next to Zhongli as the millelith turned around to return to their comrades. “We should—”

A blue and purple portal ripped open in the air in front of them and a human charged through, shouting a second half a word or another. The sword in his hand was poised to strike and the expression on his face told of desperation as he drove it forward with single-minded focus. But the body went limp and the weapon cluttered to the ground before any target was met, as a flaming sword pierced through the man’s chest from behind and the attacker was pulled away from Zhongli.

The adepti had sprung to his defence as soon the portal had appeared. The millelith too had been startled and had grabbed their weapons. Even Wave Soother’s water sparkled with a different hue in her lowered stance, this version not meant to be nearly as pleasant once absorbed into the body. Zhongli himself was still too sluggish to have reacted in time. But he was also stuck behind both a white tiger who had her front paws over him with claws and teeth at the ready, and a glowing stag who had pressed Zhongli more firmly against himself with his head, so Zhongli did not have much room to move in any case.

Indarias breathed heavily, holding tightly onto her sword still as the portal behind them fizzled out of existence. “Mission… accomplished, my lord,” she said, half out of exertion, but also seemingly trying to also reign her emotions in. “All five main portals have been secured. The enemy stronghold… will momentarily be under our control.” She looked over her shoulder and seeing the portal gone, her face fell momentarily before her rage at the man she had just killed exploded. “You locked me out?!” she screamed, clearly agitated and tossed the dead body away from her sword. “Now I have to go all the way back through the Chasm!”

The adepti around Zhongli had relaxed at the sight of the yaksha general and gave him a little personal space again, putting their weapons, claws and magic away for later.

Now that she could see him, Indarias’s angry expression melted instantly. “Wait, no no no, why are you on the ground? Are you hurt?” she asked sounding genuinely concerned and came over to Zhongli, her hands stretched out and eyes looking for injuries.

“I’m alright, general Musatas,” Zhongli said quickly, raising his hand a little. “Just overexerted myself a little.”

“You had to fight?!” He had hoped to ease her worries, but his confession seemed to have the opposite effect. Indarias’s hair was getting animated with her emotions.

“I chose to,” Zhongli said firmly and reached out to touch her hand. “It’s fine.”

“My lord, for the sake of your future safety, one feels the need to clarify that that was far from fine,” Moon Carver commented with a frown.

“I will be more careful from now on,” Zhongli promised and startled when he was unexpectedly hugged by Indarias.

“Oh, those bastards are going to get singed when I get back,” Indarias swore. “I will…” She paused, stilling and seemingly realising what she was doing. She let go hastily. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. Just a reflex,” she apologised, hands on her cheeks and looked at Zhongli, trying to find out if she had crossed a line. “Oh no, and the millelith are staring, I screwed up your secret…”

“Uh…” Zhongli cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to have worried you. I am pleased to hear the operation has gone smoothly despite our setback. That is excellent news. And the millelith here are in the know now, so that’s alright.”

As they spoke aloud there was another conversation happening in his mind. <She tends to get rather physical when she’s emotional. Don’t let it bother you.>

Why is she this worried about me? We arranged that I would have enough back-up.

<The five yaksha are your personal bodyguards, as they were often mine, if needed. Outside of war time, of course, as in this case, because they are required to lead the troops. They have a lot of personal pride riding on your wellbeing and safety.>

Indarias was beaming for not being reprimanded for breaching his personal space and explaining how she would return to the battlefield and see things through.

“Did you manage to catch the leaders?” Zhongli asked when Indarias was leaving.

The yaksha’s face hardened. “No, my lord. We have failed to find the ones responsible. As I’ve come to understand, they might have been wary of our movements and readied some troops, but did not expect us to find and open the gates. They used what they had at the face of our attack to buy time to clear out important materials and let their commanders flee.” She dropped her head down and her hands clenched into tight fists. “We have failed to meet your expectations.”

“No such thing has happened,” Zhongli said strictly, forcing himself to sit more upright. “Whatever they were planning to do once they were ready, we surely have for now successfully thwarted it or at least bought ourselves time to deal with it. By exploring what they didn’t manage to clear out, we might get more answers yet. Catching the leaders here and now was but one route to victory. We have merely taken another.”

“Understood, my lord,” Indarias replied, sounding eager to get back to business. “I’ll be getting back to that then. We will come back to you soon with a full report of who might these scoundrels be. By your leave, Rex Lapis.” Her expression melted into one more genuinely happy smile. “Oh, it feels so good to say that without reservations at last.”

Zhongli chuckled shortly, deciding not to argue. “Use it as you please.”

Chapter Text

The surface Xiao walked on rippled like water under his feet. The floor was flat and smooth, stretching out in every direction as far as his eyes could see, save for the dark doorways littered around him. He felt like he was standing on the middle of a still lake, his weight carried by the surface tension alone. There was enough friction under his feet to walk without slipping, but no real texture or bumps to be sensed. It made him feel unpleasant.

Xiao looked the ripples spreading outwards from the foot he moved, as they hit and bounced off of the bodies and carcasses of enemies that laid around him. Every other ripple showed him the Chasm outside, telling of the location of the portal behind him. The others painted a different picture: that of an upside-down settlement mostly made of various kinds of tents, but with some more solid stone structures in the mix. Houses. Spires. Fountains. All suspended in the air above him as he looked up: structures and his fellow adepti alike breaking the laws of gravity as they hang upside-down on the ceiling as smooth and far-stretching as the lake floor beneath him.

Glancing one more time around the score of enemies his strike team had defeated to make sure no stragglers were left; Xiao huffed his irritation out audibly and made his way to the nearest reflection of a doorway above. The ripples from his steps hit against the dark gap in the reflection as if it was a solid object. Without hesitation, Xiao stepped on the reflection and floor supporting him disappeared, sinking him down through the water like he normally would have walking on a lake. The world around him spun and tilted, his feet hitting solid ground a mere second after submerging and his face emerging from the water first when he simply appeared through the doorway shown in the reflection he had chosen, his body rippling in sight out of the air and dry to touch.

The adeptus already inspecting the house raised his weapon as Xiao appeared, but relaxed upon seeing an ally. Xiao turned around and walked out of the doorway behind him, onto the paved plaza that you could have found from the finest city centre. Looking above him now, he saw a still lake surface and the remains of the machines and hilichurls he had defeated after entering his assigned gateway and securing it. Now they in turn were suspended in the ceiling like gravity did not exist.

Unpleasant. Everything about this was unpleasant.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” a junior yaksha from his team who had followed him muttered, her hold of her bloodied dagger shivering slightly as her fingers clamped tightly around its handle.

“I have, once,” Xiao replied, starting to run forward, not having time to waste. Any lingering enemies here they needed to find and kill or capture, before they’d manage to destroy or take away more evidence. “In a domain of a god who once stood against us. The God of Secrets sought to defeat us with trickery where strength did not suffice.” He frowned. “I did not think I would see something like it again.”

“If a domain of a long-gone god is our best reference, who do you suppose build this?” the younger yaksha questioned, keeping up with his pace. They ran past any buildings where an adeptus was already present or the ones with a scratch above the door to mark them checked.

Xiao huffed between his teeth. “I do not guess. Finding out for certain is what we are here to do. Take that spire, I’ll head to the house ahead.”

“Yes sir!”

Without looking back to see her take her turn towards the appointed structure, Xiao brandished his polearm at the ready, sensing something magical on the other side of the closed door. Instead of breaking down the door, Xiao dove inside through an uncovered window, rolling into a stop and turning towards the presence as soon as he was in. The man inside had the ears of an elf and he wore the same unknown uniform Xiao had seen before. The man’s hands were pressed against the floor atop a magic circle that was thrumming at the ready, but his concentration was broken at Xiao’s entry, having clearly expected who ever was coming to use the door, not the tiny window. Unlucky for him, Xiao was more than capable to not let the tiny passage interrupt his momentum.

The man grunted between his teeth in pain as Xiao smashed his head against the floor. The magic circle tingled the yaksha with its presence for a moment longer before it started fading out of existence. Holding onto the man’s hair with one hand, Xiao planted his knee between the shoulder blades, while the other foot stepped on the fingers that attempted to reach back out towards the fading magic, pinning his opponent’s hand against the floor.

“Surrender and speak,” Xiao growled and the tip of his spear touched the floor next to the man’s throat, the blade turning enough for him to feel it against his skin. “That is the only way you have to keep your life.”

The man glared up at him from the corner of his eyes. “I have nothing to say a dog is worthy to hear,” he seethed back, his free hand drawing a shining circle to the floor with his fingers. A strange runic mark started shining on his forehead as he did, but it and the small circle faded away without triggering as Xiao held true to his word and cut his throat.

Xiao grumbled a little, displeased and stood up. It was unfortunate how both tight-lipped and loyal these people were to whoever they were serving. With how easy it was for them to kill themselves on a moment’s notice, it seemed that whoever was at the top was the type of person who demanded death from their subordinates if it suited them. The utter lack of respect for the lives of others made Xiao’s face scrunch up in disgust. Perhaps as disturbing was, how eager they were to do it to keep their secrets. It’s not like Xiao wouldn’t have given his life for his lord or duty if needed. But it made all the difference when it was never demanded from him. That seal that had lit up on the elf man’s forehead would have triggered an explosion Xiao had already seen too many times for his liking. It felt unnatural to him how willing all the people they had tried to capture were to use it.

He sensed nothing else in the house, so he allowed himself to relax enough to look around without his thoughts concentrated on battle. The house was messy, like someone had pumped onto the table and shelves, knocking over some items in their hurry. Everything inside told him of a short stay, rather than someone having lived here for a long time. As much as this entire stronghold looked like a small city, it was clearly a temporary base. However, the tents aside, there was no way the stone houses, spires and fountains had been quickly or recently build. The style of architecture was basic, lacking any sort of flare or personality. He could not recognize its style.

Walking from one room to another, Xiao quickly checked around the items and other signs of activity, eyes scanning for useful intel to gather. He tried to find a good mix of thorough and fast, wanting to go and check other locations as soon as possible. Most of their strike teams had made it through now and only stragglers of the enemies remained. They had all but won the battle, but whoever was behind all this was still on the loose. As far as the adepti knew as of now, those people were already far away, having left their armies to fend for themselves to escape. Yet another fact that made Xiao’s respect for these people as opponents even lower than it already was. Xiao had personally witnessed Morax stand strong and determined by his soldiers’ side in countless battles. Even now, when he was weakened and personally threatened, his lord had refused all plans that excluded his involvement. For all the loyalty and clout their suicidal subordinates gave them, what were these leaders in contrast?

“General Alatus!”

His attention was stolen by the call from the main room and he was quick to respond, coming in sight of to the yaksha he had send to investigate the other unmarked structure they had seen. Beckoned in a hurry, he followed her outside and then inside the bottom floor of the spire. It turned out to be hollow inside, only a circling staircase leading tighter and tighter upwards, seemingly to no destination. But where those stairs were supposed to meet the floor was an opened hatch, making way for the steps to continue downwards.

“It opened when I tinkered with the stone slates on the wall,” the younger yaksha explained and pointed at the two rows of markings embedded into the inside wall. There were some empty slots above the two rows where a few could be slotted to make room to move the others around. “I couldn’t read the scripture, but there were some scratches and lines left behind by the stones as they were moved. It wasn’t too messed up to begin with, only a couple were out of place. Someone must have tried to hide this in a hurry.”

“Well done,” Xiao complimented briefly, inspecting the path downwards. “I’m going down. Inform the others of what we found and my whereabouts. And guard the entrance. I’ll call for you if I run into trouble.”

“Yes sir.”

Xiao descended past the floor of the visible spire and into the darkness below. His eyes gleamed when he used his power to aid his sight. The spire continued below the floor as it had above it: the stairs circling the round walls, now slowly getting wider and wider as he went down. He could not see the bottom for a while, but after a couple of rounds downwards, he saw the stairs disappear into a dark floor. Reaching the bottom, Xiao held his polearm at the ready to react to surprised attacks or traps and scanned his surrounding with all of his senses. There was nothing here. The walls were empty of any doors, windows, slots for keys or rune slates. Though he could hear some sound the air current brought to his ears from above, it was completely silent down here. No smell or taste in the air either gave him hints or clues. Left were only his sense of touch and the heightened sense for magic granted to those proficient in using the elements.

Xiao looked at the black, smooth surface beneath his feet for a moment, determining its nature, before whirling the polearm in his hand around. Green energy lit up the dark space as he concentrated his power to the tip of his weapon, striking the floor with a heavy grunt to back up his move. His power flashed as it hit against the black floor, then seeped into the brightly shining cracks that formed around the point of impact and spread towards the walls. At the last second before the floor collapsed, Xiao jumped back to the stairs to avoid falling into anything unknown. The fake floor shattered as he jumped, the edges of the shards still gleaming green as they fell, but soon they disappeared, dissolving out of existence before hitting the floor that was revealed below. This one, one more round of stairs below his current level, had a normal stone floor and several doors lined the walls, leading to new locations.

Xiao was inwardly proud of himself, but kept his face neutral as he teleported the remaining distance down. He kept his back close to a wall in a case of an ambush still, but he sensed nothing threatening at the moment, so he wasted little time checking the closest door to him. It was unlocked and opened into singular room that was full of tables of various sizes and shelves covering the walls. The tables were set in a rectangle, leaving a singular square one in the middle, surrounded by the others. The tables and shelves were full of hastily cleaned out equipment and shattered glass. Sheets of paper floated here and there, most likely left behind from their stacks. Residue from various substances and plants covered the surfaces. Judging how a dark red substance from a shattered vial on his right was still dripping to the floor, whatever had happened here was recent.

Without wasting time inspecting everything right away, Xiao left to check the other five doors as well. He was greeted by similar scenes of various either alchemical, magical or scientific practices: hastily cleared out and abandoned. Two of the rooms were destroyed completely. Judging by the elemental remains, by an explosion of some kind. The first one had clearly been a storage of some kind, the items torn apart and burnt up by whatever had been triggered inside. The second destroyed room was lined across all the walls by cages, big and small, and only had one stone table in the middle. The cages were bent out of shape and empty, but Xiao could see lighter areas in them around the traces of the dark substance that had painted everything else in the room, suggesting somethings had been inside. Whatever they had been, not even bones or ashes remained.

Before he could decide which room to check first in more detail, Xiao sensed a presence of another and returned to the central spire.

“Brother,” Bonanus greeted him as she hopped down from above. A little but strong light was shining above her shoulder, finally casting proper light around the room. “What have you found?”

“A jackpot,” Xiao guessed and looked around the open doorways. “This was a laboratory of some kind. Most of the things here have been taken or destroyed, but there are many things still left behind. They were very keen on trying to hide this place. There could be something important here they didn’t manage to take with them.”

“Let’s send a message back above. We need to call our own experts down to investigate what they were doing here,” Bonanus said, inspecting the scenery behind each open door.

Xiao nodded. “I’ll go.”

Saying that, he disappeared and Bonanus was left to look around on her own. All of these rooms were giving her the creeps. She wasn’t scared, she couldn’t have been a yaksha general is she was, but under any other circumstance, she would have chosen to have nothing to do with this. Selecting one of the rooms, she started examining the shattered or fallen over vials and what remained of their contents. While some of the things were substances she could identify by either look or smell, some were completely unknown to her. Only a couple of the containers were labelled and many liquids had mixed together, making it harder to determine what was what. She wasn’t an expert on these things of course, so she refrained from touching anything, hoping to keep the scene as close to authentic as possible, until someone more knowledgeable in alchemy or science came along.

Reaching the table furthest from the door, she stopped. Something clearly heavy had been yanked off the table, scratching its surface. This table was cleaner, devoid of most clutter on the other ones, and judging by the marks on the wood, whatever had been lifted off here, had taken most of the surface. Bonanus was about to step past when something on the floor, hidden mostly under a fallen sheet of paper, caught her attention. Cautiously, she lifted the paper, which appeared to be a page of a journal of some kind. Now properly seeing the object underneath, she took a deep breath, hesitating for a second before reaching out her fingers and softly lifting the tiny object from the floor. It was a ceramic bracelet. Dark, almost black in colour, set in interlocking geometric patterns that could be detached from one another to slip the artefact around an arm. It was simple in design, yet oddly beautiful, almost alluring. Bonanus felt as if something was reaching out to her and asking her to set the item around her arm and share her power with it. The thought was repulsive. The energy the bracelet gave out made her want to fling the thing away as far as she could.

Instead, she set it down on the mostly empty table, taking a step back and keeping her eye on the artefact like it had a will of its own that she needed to keep in check. Her brother had been right about hitting a jackpot. Bonanus wasn’t an expert, but she could imagine some of her companions could find out much from this object. And as much as the thought of bringing this thing anywhere near the emperor went against her instincts, it might be for the best to ask Rex Lapis as well.

Outside the gateways to the enemy stronghold, the last battles were dying down. With all of the big gates secured and the remaining enemy forces mingling with their own, Keqing had ordered half of the artillery to join the infantry in battle, seeing as they no longer could safely fire the ballistae. The rest offered support from afar using bows. Similarly, when the gates had been captured and now under their control, Menogias had started using his men to make surprise attacks to the remaining enemy clusters to help their own troops gain an upper hand in battle. The finishing blows would soon be dealt and the battle would be over.

At the new command centre, general Zhi was watching over the Chasm, giving out orders to move out and clear all the worst points of resistance he could pinpoint. Behind him, Ganyu was clutching the wooden bracelet between her palms, a headache creeping up her temples as she fiercely tried to concentrate on checking all the remaining gates on the field. They could not relax until every enemy was defeated and every last gateway secured from both sides. Not all of the smaller gates had yet been found by the people who had headed inside, so Ganyu strained her efforts as sweat dropped down her forehead.

Finishing giving his newest orders, Zhi frowned down at the adeptus in charge of watching out for ambushes. The attack on the rear guard had taken their primary command centre out of commission, and although that battle had since ended in victory, the company had taken too heavy a hit to effectively return to their duties. Both general Yuan and Rex Lapis were injured and unable to continue. They had prepared for such a scenario, but Zhi had personally had faith it would not come to pass. The thought that the enemy could not only use and move the existing ones but also open new gateways wherever they pleased, was causing him constant worry, nagging him to stay on high alert. Watching the adeptus try her hardest to do her duty, despite knowing that the reason she even needed to was because their god was yet again in danger, was helping Zhi stave off the nervousness and keep his mind steeled at the facts, instead making hasty mistakes. He had thought himself to have outgrown such nervous tendencies, but clearly, he could not grow conceited.

Back in the rear guard, the millelith were moving the injured down the hill and to the medic tents, abandoning the previous command post. Out of 110 soldiers (114 counting the general, Zhongli, Moon Carver and the adeptus messenger) only 31 had made it out of the battle uninjured. Although many of the injuries were light, there were also those who now struggled to see another day and those who had been already lost. The corrosion from the wolves was the main reason many now needed medical attention and both the human medics and the adeptus healer were kept busy. Thankfully, there was another medic area slightly closer to the Chasm that could deal with the injuries sustained there, only sending some patients to their location. Two of the adepti who had come to aid them in battle and stayed, were now helping the millelith to move the injured.

Zhongli forced himself to hold back a groan and a shiver as he was helped to finally stand up. He felt like something akin to standing up too quickly and getting dizzy. If that were to happen after a twelve-hour shift of strenuous physical labour or something the like, that is. Unfortunately, the way his facial muscles twitched trying to hold back a pained expression, or how his eyes momentarily stared into nothing as he tried regain his vertigo, did not go unnoticed as much as he tried.

“We will only move you half way down the hill, my lord,” Niú promised and tried to support him more firmly. “We must get you out of immediate sight. Sister scouted out a more secluded spot and ordered the millelith to set up a quick tent, a little bit away from the camp. You can rest there in peace and should an attack on your person happen again, we can protect you without worrying about the injured.”

Zhongli heaved out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, which cause the hand supporting his back to flinch away a little.

“Are you… opposed to this plan?”

“No,” Zhongli replied, trying to stand up straight and support his own weight. He wished the adepti would stop acting like every sigh and glance he made was a sign of discontent. “I’m just angry at myself for ending up like this.”

“It cannot be helped,” Moon Carver said and came to stand by his side as well so that Zhongli could have more support if he wished. “Once this has all been settled, we shall hold the Rite of Ascension as soon as possible. Then we can all let out a sigh of relief.”

Zhongli nodded, without saying more as they started to make their way into the little nook prepared for him. He thought of Moon Carver’s words as well as remembering back to the conversations of the adepti while they had thought he was unconscious. Both times, the Rite of Ascension making things better had been brought up. Was it not just a formal celebration to proof the union of man and god to the people?

<I will explain it to you later,> Morax offered, which Zhongli took to mean that the god wanted to talk with him face to face again. Otherwise, he could have simply shared the knowledge with Zhongli, either through talking in his mind or sharing flashes of information and memory.

The millelith were finishing setting up the tent on the spot Choahuo had pointed out when Zhongli made his way over with the help of the adepti. Realising he was approaching, the two soldiers hurried their efforts to tie up the last ropes and setting up a package inside: Both stood in attention when Zhongli reached the tent.

“Y… your majesty,” the other soldier stammered a little before finding his voice, clearly nervous. “We have set up a place to rest for you as instructed. We’re sorry, that… we cannot provide you with anything better at the moment. If there is anything you need—”

“This is more than enough,” Zhongli stopped him. “We still aren’t in the clear in this battle. We all have better things to do than worry about excessive comfort. Thank you for your work here. Please go help at medic area wherever they might need you.”

The two men looked shocked for a moment before quickly saluting and taking their leave. Based on his interactions with the millelith so far during the brief time after his identity had been revealed, Zhongli was fairly certain that talking with the emperor was not something the regular millelith often got to do. Especially since he knew that his predecessor had been a more seclusive type, these people had most likely never even seen him outside a few times on formal occasions. Most likely from afar. Even in the case of the millelith, the adepti were the guards of the inner palace and an emperor walking past you while you were on guard duty did not really count as a meeting. Zhongli was starting to realise what type of a mantle he was inheriting.

The 27^th Rex Lapis had ruled for nearly 22 years before his untimely death. During that time, he had mostly spent his time in the palace, only making brief public appearances during the festivals he had set up and official celebrations. Before him, the 26^th emperor, already an old man at his coronation, had ruled for 15 years. Due to his age, even with the power of the god to aid him (or perhaps somewhat due to the strain Morax’s power might have caused) he was prone to tiring easily, which had caused him too to spent most of his time in the palace. Whenever he had made an appearance, he had been the gaudier type, who would have people kneel in his presence to show reverence. Before him, the 25^th Rex Lapis had been quite the opposite: an eccentric woman chosen from among the Qixing of the time. She had opted to spent most of her quite long 37-year reign travelling: meeting people from other countries, forging new trade deals and routes in person. In other words: she was rarely “home”. And whenever she was, yes: there was a celebration for her return. At the start of which she’d wave to the people from above before disappearing to deal with the duties that had piled up during her travels, leaving the people to make merry on their own.

Zhongli closed his eyes as he sat down on the blanket that had been set inside the tent and leant his back against the stone behind the cloth wall. Counting back the latest three emperors was already 74 years in the lives of the people of Liyue. Not many still remembered the Rex Lapis before that. And all of the previous three had not interacted with the people. Having been on that side as well, Zhongli knew that Rex Lapis was a faraway existence in the everyday life of a normal person. Someone they only ever got to see when an official event was taking place: giving a speech or offering predictions and foresight. Or somehow proving to the people that their god yet walked with them towards the future with a show of power. An almost unseen ruler. Just and righteous, but above the rest. A god. A name to pray or in whose name things were done. Usually, like in the case of the imperial funding for businesses for instance, one had no way of knowing had Rex Lapis personally ever even seen or read an application when it was approved or disapproved.

The only people who recently ever got to see Rex Lapis in person were the Qixing, the city council, important people from businesses or industries, nobles allowed in the court and foreign diplomats. To everyone else, the emperor was often more of an idea than a person. Rex Lapis’ will was that of a god: their word the final salvation for the blessed and the final nail in coffin of the damned. As a person who enjoyed simply walking in the streets and watching people live their lives, talking with whoever seemed to like his company: forget his upcoming duties, Zhongli was more unsure how to deal with the rift his new status created between him and the people of Liyue.

<You can work to change that,> Morax said from afar, having seemingly retreated a little further away to allow Zhongli more space to rest from the god’s power.

How exactly should I even start? Zhongli sighed in his head, trying to relax.

<One thing at the time. Right now, you need to recover. Then we will deal with the threat of our enemies and get you finally coronated. Worry about the public approval when they at least know you are their emperor now.>

I suppose that’s true, Zhongli admitted, trying to get the topic out of his mind.

Moon Carver had made his way into the tent and was lying beside him, while Niú stood guard outside. They were quiet, since the entire point of this more private getaway was that Zhongli got a chance to rest. His mind wasn’t sleepy but his body certainly was and celebrated the chance to rest again even only after the little walk over. Zhongli wondered how long his body would need to bounce back up again. It usually happened quite quickly considering, but then again, this was the first time he had felt this type of strain for some other reason than soul diving. Perhaps it wasn’t right to directly compare the experiences.

He tried to relax and let his worries be, allowing the aches of his body the time they needed to start to subside. After what Morax told him to be about an hour and fifteen minutes, he was aroused from his trance a little by a presence and then voices outside.

Recognizing the voice as Bosacius, Zhongli opened his eyes slowly, listening to the two yaksha talk outside. He was feeling a little better now, so when Niú came inside the tent to quietly talk with Moon Carver, Zhongli answered his question instead. Having received his permission, Bosacius entered the tent next and knelt down to talk with him on an eye level. The tent wasn’t small, but with both Bosacius and Moon Carver inside, it was starting to feel a lot more cramped.

“I apologise for disturbing your rest,” Bosacius started and sat on his heels, his back straight and leant his lower set of palms atop his knees. “I have come to report the state of our mission in the Chasm. The battle has ended. Our side is victorious. All remaining enemies have been defeated and the gateways secured from both sides. The enemy stronghold is entirely under our control and we have started a thorough investigation on whatever they did not manage to take or destroy during their escape. I regret to confirm that all of the enemy’s leaders have managed to escape, as you have been already informed, nor have we been able to figure out where they might have gone. We have found a few locations of interest within their hideout that might give us some further clues. We will keep up our investigations and report to you again later.”

Zhongli had relaxed a little hearing the battle had been won and the threat dying down for now. He thanked Bosacius and congratulated him on the victory, which the yaksha seemed to be very proud to hear from him. After a moment of Bosacius telling them what they had so far found from beyond the gateways, Zhongli broke the question that needed to be asked. The casualties: the number of dead and injured after the dust of battle had settled. Zhongli closed his eyes as Bosacius listed what they knew so far. The final numbers could not yet be calculated, but the estimations made his heart feel heavy. Though the battle had not lasted long, it had been fierce and against a diverse set of enemies. Enemies who had for the most part been mindless in following the orders they were given: devoid of fear or hesitation no matter what befell their comrades. Even an adeptus had fallen to the drills of a ruin hunter, trampled under the rest of the enemies before help could reach them.

<Do not pity them,> Morax spoke up when Zhongli’s thoughts started to drift towards solutions on how all of this could have somehow been avoided. <Do not dishonour their efforts and sacrifice by living a fantasy where it didn’t happen. Their families and friends will grieve for them, but you have to stand firm that their life and its end had meaning. If you start to waver, it will give the people the impression that their suffering was for nothing. Remember and honour what they have achieved and protected. Linger on the pain and loss for too long, and it will start to eat away at what was won through it.>

Zhongli tried to take the god’s words to heart, but it was easier said than done. Morax was clearly speaking from experience, but how could his own state of mind and heart compare to that of a god? Zhongli wasn’t a stranger to death of course, working at a Funeral Parlor as he had been, and had witnessed and experienced first-hand the grief and despair an accident claiming countless lives could bring. But a battle of this scale… A battle he had brought about… He knew it had been necessary and to think no one would die in war was naïve. Still, Morax was right. He needed to take responsibility and face the consequences. Aid those who needed it. Offer what solace he could. But how should he face them? The nervous, tense expressions of the millelith he had talked with came to his mind. Rex Lapis’ word was order itself. If he went in front of the people and told them the sacrifice had been necessary, no one would likely dispute him. But what heart did such words have?

“What is the status of the medic area at the foot of the hill?” Zhongli asked after a moment of silence had passed since Bosacius had delivered his report.

“They’re busy, but the medics closer to the Chasm have been dealing with the most of the severely wounded, as they cannot be moved far away safely,” Bosacius explained and glanced briefly over his shoulder and out of the flap of the tent door. “This camp has formed into a place where the less severely wounded and the ones awaiting transfer to the city have gathered.”

Zhongli nodded, taking a second longer to sort out his messy thoughts before continuing. “I wish to visit them. Will you accompany me down the hill, Moon Carver?” He was relieved to notice that a little shine had returned to the tips of the adeptus’s horns, telling of his slowly recovering power. While Moon Carver assured that he would but questioned his decision, Zhongli directed a question to another direction. Morax? Can you help me walk around?

<You wish to use my power to help yourself recover from overusing my power?> Morax confirmed and Zhongli just knew he had crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow while asking.

I do feel a bit better now. Can it not be done?

<It can, but you will feel even more tired later.>

Then let later be the moment I rest.

He heard Morax sigh in response but strength flowed around his body with the sound and he could feel the tiredness chased away by force. To answer to Moon Carver’s concerns in a convincing way, Zhongli stood up, much to the adepti’s surprise, assuring that he would be alright for now.

“Then I shall accompany you as well,” Bosacius said and stood quickly up with him.

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “Are you not busy with the aftermath of the battle, marshal?”

Bosacius placed a hand above his heart. “My brothers and sisters are overseeing the process beyond the gateways and the millelith generals and the Yuheng have combined their efforts to manage the clean-up of the battlefield and seeing that all the wounded are attended to. I, Bosacius, wish to finally stand by your side as we can now officially recognize you. What’s more, checking in on the medics and the wounded here will also be beneficial for myself to know.”

“Then, I will not stop you,” Zhongli replied and nodded, gesturing for them to leave, then ultimately walking out first when Bosacius stepped out his way.

The sky was still cloudy, but any remaining mist had been lifted. Bosacius dismissed Niú to go and help with the efforts at the Chasm and the three of them made their way down the hill to the bustling bundle of tents that had spread out wider since Zhongli had last seen. Many of the tents lacked proper walls or only had a few, working as shelters for groups of injured men and women in bloodied bandages and casts, some sitting, some lying down. Most were conscious, resting or talking with whoever was next to them, although some were silently staring into nothing. The more severely wounded or the ones being treated still were inside the more closed tents. Some with minor injuries were walking around along the medics and other staff of the camp, helping to carry supplies or supporting the injured ones who needed help moving.

The smell of blood wafted in the air, mixing in with bitter scents of medicines and herbs. Some hands were clutched tightly around others in encouragement, camaraderie and support, quiet words spoken to those who lay either still or writhing on makeshift beds. Zhongli watched the scene in silence as they came closer and closer. The arrival of Bosacius was a cause of surprise tensions in the camp and Moon Carver was honestly hard to miss. But it wasn’t until they got closer that someone under a shelter close to the edge of the camp whispered “Rex Lapis…” under their breath and the polite bows and averted eyes from the adepti turned into hushed whispers and glances into their direction. Many of these soldiers had arrived from the Chasm and apparently the word about the sudden revelation of the missing emperor being present on the battlefield had somewhat spread among the soldiers. At least now it certainly was.

Zhongli sensed the glances from the millelith like little needles poking the edge of his awareness. The attention was uncomfortable and he wished he could have simply kept looking ahead and walked past all the soldiers, perhaps find general Yuan or someone else he knew to talk to first. But that was not what he needed to do. Perhaps simply walking past these people would have been enough: tell them that Rex Lapis was present like the rumours had said. But it did not feel right to him. That said, simply walking up to a tent full of injured people and asking “how are you all doing” wasn’t actually polite. As his feet reached the edge of the medic area, Zhongli realised he had no idea how to approach these people. As simply Zhongli he could have walked up and offered his help to the medics, but was that acceptable for the emperor of Liyue?

When Zhongli slowed down to look around, trying to figure out what to do next without being too obvious about it, Bosacius walked past him. The war marshal was much more in his element as he called over some millelith officers and camp staff, and started inquiring about the status of the camp in more detail. Zhongli listened in quietly a little behind them. That at least gave him a reason to stand around other than dumbly not knowing what to do now that he had made his way here.

“Your… majesty,” a cautious voice to his right stuttered in a little louder than whisper. Zhongli turned his attention to a soldier trying to sit up near the edge of the closest shelter. The man had a bandage wrapped around his left shoulder and arm, tied tightly up against his torso. Pushing himself up to sit with some effort, the man noticed him looking in his direction and averted his eyes. “Are you… truly Rex Lapis?”

Zhongli looked at the man who was breathing heavily. Clearly his wound was hurting. The other millelith nearby were holding their breaths as Zhongli walked closer and slowly crouched down.

“I am,” he answered, remembering back to when Wo Lang had not long ago asked him the same question. He was a little surer of his answer now than back then. The man’s breathing quickened at his answer and he shook as he made an effort to push himself further up and folded his legs, Zhongli assumed by the way some other men nearby did, to kneel. Frowning, he raised his hand and the man stilled as Zhongli’s palm came to hover close to his chest. “Why do you force yourself?”

The soldier still avoided looking up at him, instead staring at the hand he would have collided with had he not stopped. “Your majesty… has returned. It is a relief to know you’re back with us. I must… This state is… unsightly of me.”

“Unsightly…” Zhongli repeated, thinking on the man’s words and then back to Morax’s: If you start to waver, it will give the people the impression that their suffering was for nothing. Zhongli felt he was starting to understand that piece of advice a little better. He was the emperor and so he held the highest authority in the military. If he now started to second guess this battle and its worth at the faces of these people who had been injured for its cause, what had their struggles been for? “That is not a word I would use.” Do not pity them. “What unsightly is there about keeping your sworn oaths and doing your duty when the need is dire?” he asked, standing up, but guided his hand up the man’s chest in the hopes that in his clear avoidance to touch him, the man would raise his chin and look at him. “You have answered the call to arms and aided in defeating the enemy that lurked in the shadows. Thank you. For helping me to protect Liyue.” He looked up from the wide eyes of the soldier to the rest of the millelith in the shelter. “All of you.”

He had thought the millelith would perhaps mutter a few words and politely have their heads down as long as he was close by. He did not expect them to be quite as shook as they were at his words, thanking him even. The soldier he had spoken with looked like he deflated in relief and a man lying on the ground nearby hid his eyes and turned his head away, lips bit together in a tight line. Quite a few others also looked more at ease than before. He even saw a smile or two.

<You gave meaning to their pain,> Morax explained as Zhongli tried his hardest not to look as confused and taken aback as he was. <Most of the reasons behind this campaign were a closely guarded secret. These people have fought in the dark. A few words can go a long way to affect someone’s mental state.>

 “Your majesty Rex Lapis,” a millelith captain walking slowly closer spoke up and bowed his head and shoulders down as Zhongli looked in his direction. He seemingly had not been badly injured, only having some patches on his face, most likely from corrosion. “I fought in the rear guard when it was attacked. I cannot thank you enough for protecting us back then.”

“It was the least I could do,” Zhongli said and walked the few steps over to meet with the captain.

“It was an honour to fight by your side. I shall recall it proudly for the rest of my life. If I may ask, your majesty,” the captain started and straightened. “Are you well? At the end, you…” He glanced at the soldiers from the Chasm who did not know the circumstances, wondering if it was alright to talk openly about this. He corrected his statement to something more neutral. “The adepti were quite frantic for a while and we millelith were worried as well. I’m sorry if it is rude of me to assume or inquire this but: have you recovered?”

Zhongli nodded. “Don’t be afraid to ask, I do not mind it. Thank you for your concern. I still require some rest, but there is no need to worry as of now. Once I have affirmed a few things here, I shall retire to recover properly.”

“That is a relief to hear, your majesty.”

“Speaking of which, would you happen to know where I might find general Yuan at the moment?”

“I do not, sire,” the captain replied and nodded, apologetic. “But the general is likely near the centre of the camp. Someone over there might be able to tell you.”

“Thank you.” Zhongli nodded in both goodbye and thank you, turning to walk back over to Bosacius, who was waiting a short distance away with Moon Carver. “Have you finished your inquiries, Marshal Vritras?”

Bosacius nodded, while giving him a long, thoughtful look. “Shall we look for general Yuan?”

Zhongli confirmed and they continued deeper into the camp, while Bosacius recounted the important things he had heard from the camp’s staff. They quickly made it to centre of the camp where treatments for many patients were still underway. Since this section of the camp was busier, Bosacius and Moon Carver were about to order the people to make way for them, but Zhongli stopped the attempt, citing that they should not disturb the medics when people’s lives were at stake. After asking a passing soldier and turning to the right direction, they soon found general Yuan, who was in one of the tents where some of the more seriously wounded were kept at.

When Zhongli walked in, Yuan was sitting by the bedside of a young soldier, trying to talk with him. The wounded soldier was panicking and shaking his head, half of which was covered in bandages, blood seeping through where his left eye was. His hip and waist were heavily bandaged and Yuan was seemingly trying his best to keep the young man still so that whatever his wounds were underneath the bandages, they would not get worse.

“Shh, everything is alright, look at me,” general Yuan tried to reach out to the injured man calmly and held his hand reassuringly. “Look at me. There is no danger here.”

“No!” The soldier cried and shook his head. “It’s coming!”

“It is not.”

“It’s coming!” the young man repeated and reached his free hand towards something he saw in the ceiling. “There… The monster… it’s looking at me. No! Go away! It’ll get me… It’ll get me. It’s right there!”

Yuan was about to say something again to soothe him when Zhongli took the hand reaching towards the ceiling into his own and he startled away, noticing the emperor’s presence.

Zhongli guided the soldier’s hand down as gently as he could. “The monster has been defeated. It can no longer get to you,” he assured quietly, as the man’s shivering eye turned to look at him. Using Morax’s guidance to channel a little bit of divine presence around him, Zhongli gave the hand he held a little squeeze as he set it down. “Rest easy. Thanks to you, that monster can now harm no one.” He had actually no idea what had happened, but hopefully that was close enough. “Sleep. And may no monster haunt your dreams.”

Zhongli held the hand in his a little longer while the young soldier’s breathing evened out and the wide eye staring at him started to see past the shadows the scared mind had created. When the hand clutching around Yuan’s also loosened, Zhongli set the hand down on the bed and straightened. The young man kept looking at him still but now that his fear had been chased away, the exhaustion from his injuries made his eyes lop close.

General Yuan was looking at him, speechless, but when the young man seemingly fell asleep and the hand he held relaxed, his eyes returned to the wounded soldier again. Zhongli watched quietly as the general made sure the young man was alright now. He noticed there were quite a few people looking at them, or rather him again, more likely. Still, he was happy to see the young soldier relax.

“Your majesty,” general Yuan said quietly after he had stood up from the bedside. The general himself had been properly bandaged and received aid with his injury, although it was making his movements stiff and careful. He bowed and attempted to say something more as he looked up, but averted his eyes and turned his head away.

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “Is something the matter?”

Yuan took a deep breath, shivering a little. “No, no your majesty, just… eyes…”

Eyes? Zhongli blinked a couple of times before he understood. Oh… Oh, Morax’s power: he was still using it. And of course that meant his eyes were shining. That would explain the looks he was getting… And that it was difficult for Yuan to stand in his presence normally. He could well remember how nervous he himself always was when Morax’s presence was more intense. It was hard for him to believe he could have the same effect on someone.

“My apologies,” Zhongli said and reigned in the presence he had released to ease the panicking man. “I am… unaccustomed to my power still.”

“No trouble at all, your majesty,” general Yuan assured and tried to gather himself. “Thank you for helping my son. Although your presence was… uh…”

“Overwhelming?” Zhongli guessed, inwardly sighing. Son? That explains why he was here.

Yuan cleared his throat. “Slightly. Not in a bad way, of course. I have seen much of your power today, but feeling it so closely was… different.” He stepped further away from the bed so that they would not wake up the young man with their talk. “That aside, it is good to see your majesty in good health. Have you come to see me?”

“Yes,” Zhongli replied and gestured towards Bosacius and Moon Carver who were waiting by the door. Yuan was a little shocked to see Bosacius, but nodded and they made their way out of the tent and into a smaller, empty one to talk in peace.

After some status reports Yuan and Bosacius shared with one another, their talk turned towards handling the aftermath of the battle. General Yuan assured them that as long as not much physical labour was required, he was well enough to oversee and manage the medic areas. The adepti would concentrate on learning everything they could from the enemy stronghold, borrowing a few human experts as well, so the human generals would be in charge of army management and recuperation. The journey back to the Harbor for hundreds of injured needed to be arranged as well as the transfer of bodies, which Zhongli assured the Funeral Parlor could help with.

As soon as general Yuan was brought up to speed about the situation, Zhongli had planned to go see Ganyu and general Zhi next, but a slight blur in his eyesight when he stood up after their meeting and a stern warning from Morax told him that his time was up. The slight use of divine power had most likely used up some of the reserve Morax could give him. Sitting back down, much to the surprise and concern of the others, he informed them that he needed to leave things to everyone else for now. He expected Moon Carver to accompany him back to the little tent set up for him, but instead Bosacius picked him up to his arms again and with flash of electro, they travelled across Liyue back to the imperial palace.

As they dropped down through the barriers and once more landed on the guest courtyard, this time in full view of some other people outside, Zhongli groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Again: was that necessary?”

“Again: yes,” Bosacius replied strongly and let him down, but kept an arm up to support him. “You can rest much better and safer here. Leave everything to us for now, my lord. By the time you wake, we will have a thorough report to give to you and more information about the people who dare oppose you. You have my word.”

Before Zhongli could answer, a new voice joined them. “Zhongli! Welcome back!”

Zhongli turned to look at Hu Tao hopping closer over the decorative garden stones. “Director.”

Zhongli was prepared to be tackled into a hug again but this time Hu Tao stopped shortly before reaching him and tilted her head. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking up and down his body. “You look a little… frazzled.”

Zhongli huffed a laugh, shaking his head, noting again how weirdly sharp she was at times. “I am unhurt. Just weary. I needed to use a little more power than I could handle.”

“Hm, okay. So, you’re done playing god for today?” Hu Tao questioned with a chuckle. “It is a little early to go to bed, even for an old man like you. But—”

“’Old man’?” Bosacius repeated sternly and squinted at Hu Tao.

“No, do not mind her,” Zhongli sighed and patted Bosacius’s arm. “That’s just who she is. Director, I’m afraid I have a job for you.”

“Oh?” Hu Tao tilted her head. “Do I get a divine odd job?”

“No, if only it was so,” Zhongli said, hoping his tone of voice made the funeral director understand that the topic had turned more serious. “I’m afraid the Funeral Parlor will be busy for a moment. The battle is over but it… had its casualties. I wish for all of them to receive a proper burial.”

Hu Tao studied his grimmer expression for a moment and then took his hand in hers. “Hey, don’t worry. More customers is good for business and you know I never accept anything but proper burials. I’ll have my undertakers gear up and plan a grand event where you can say a final proper thank you to everyone that helped you.”

Zhongli smiled a little, tired, in more ways than one. “Thank you, Hu Tao.”

“Go get some sleep, old man,” Hu Tao chuckled and tugged his hand to walk him over to his room. “I’ll take care of things so well one might think you were the one who did the work.”

Zhongli chuckled and allowed Hu Tao and Bosacius to help him to his room. He knew that because of the people on the yard who had seen and heard their entire exchange, by the time he’d wake up, everyone in the palace would know his identity. He wasn’t sure was it a relief or not that he no longer had to hide. He had accepted it was set to happen at this point so perhaps it was better to get it quickly over with.

Madame Ping appeared in his room as Hu Tao left, shooing Bosacius back to his other duties as well. By the time the door had closed and Zhongli had stripped off the most constricting and dirtied layer of his clothes, Morax decided his preparation were good enough and stopped supplying him with power before things got any worse, as he put it. After that, Zhongli was lucky he was standing close enough to the bed to sit down before he could collapse on the floor. He really wished Morax had given him a bit more of a warning. The god had not been kidding when he had warned him that he would feel even more tired after using power in an already overworked state. Madame Ping helped him lay down comfortably, but Zhongli was too tired to hear clearly what she was saying to him. He remembered being guided to meet with a pillow, but after that everything was replaced with a deep darkness as he fell unconscious.

Zhongli slept for a long time, beyond the veil of dreams. Morax of course remained vigilant and could follow with a small satisfied smile how his old friend cared for his worn-out vessel. Madame Ping stayed by Zhongli’s side a long while to make sure there were no complications with his recovery, but left after a few hours when everything remained stable. She or some other adeptus, and eventually one of the healers as well, would come to check on his condition, but mostly Morax was left alone with his thoughts.

Although he was a little vexed he could not join the adepti investigating the enemy stronghold, Morax had learnt to put such wishes aside and trust his followers to be fine without him. If only they had had a chance to hold the Rite of Ascension, perhaps things would have been different. But for now, his vessel needed to recover and he needed to allow it. While some of his earlier partners had utilised his old techniques and used the shield, one or few people aside, almost an entire company was excessive. Morax had been surprised Zhongli had even known about the technique enough to request information on how to use it, as quickly as thoughts could be exchanged.

Morax truly wished he could have offered Zhongli a simpler time to start his reign. A time when he could have properly supported him, where something wasn’t constantly threatening or stressing them out and where they would have had the time to explore all that they could achieve together in peace. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be, so he was left to watch over his vessel’s recovery in silence, until hours and hours later, he sensed the last shred of tension pulling the connection of their souls painfully tight loosen and let go. With it, Zhongli’s rest turned from complete oblivion to normal sleep as the final step of recovery.

The sun set and rose and almost set again when Morax finally sensed Zhongli stir. He was well-rested but disorientated after his long sleep for a moment, as well as a little stiff for lying down for an extended period of time. Which was why Morax was surprised to sense him lie back down after sitting up instead of getting out of bed. Realising Zhongli’s intentions, a moment before he felt the little, by now familiar tug at the edge of the space within, caused him to sigh.

“Are you kidding me?” Morax asked a little exasperated as his vessel materialized into the little room where they always met these days. “You only just recover and your first thought upon waking up is to use some more power to come and see me?”

“You could have not let me in if that bothered you,” Zhongli replied. “The sun seemed to be in about the same position as when I fell asleep. Did I not sleep that long?”

“You slept around the clock, twice,” Morax corrected and crossed his arms. “It is around the same time as you went to sleep but on the next day.”

“Oh…” Zhongli said and looked away with a frown. “I see…” He thought for a few seconds on his next words and took a deep breath. “Morax, I’m s—”

“How about you let me speak first,” Morax stopped him and stepped forward, looking Zhongli firmly in the eyes when they turned back to look at him, surprised. “With the battle in the Chasm won and our enemies chased away, we have mostly achieved what I originally set out to do. Although we cannot say that the people responsible for trapping and killing my previous vessel have faced justice, we have achieved a moment of peace and gained more weapons to be used against them when they next time dare show their faces around here. There is still a lot to be done and uncovered, but now we can stabilize the situation in Liyue.”

Zhongli opened his mouth to speak but Morax raised finger in front of him, shutting him up. “I’m not done. When this all started, I did not want you to have any part in this. Although I soon realised you were capable, a connection like ours between souls is unstable and takes time to settle. Especially since our union was far removed from ordinary circumstances. I was scared of losing another vessel. I did not want to bring you any more harm than I already had because of the discomfort our connection was causing you.”

Zhongli looked like he wanted to say something again but this time a pointed squint was enough to shut him up. Morax continued. “When we then did start working together, I can genuinely say I was wrong to try and exclude you and keep you out of the loop. Had I trusted you earlier, perhaps some things might have been different. But it’s no use to long for things that could have been. Because in the end, no matter what hardships or setbacks we faced or new threats we encountered, you persevered and pulled through for me. You were adamant, if not a little reckless at times, to see my wishes come into fruition. And despite the circumstances being far beyond what you were comfortable with, you stayed determined and helped me protect Liyue and my people. And in doing so, you also proved yourself more capable of using my power than I never dared to guess.” Morax reached out and brought his hands up to pull Zhongli’s forehead against his own, locking their eyes together. “For all of this… I am proud of you.”

Morax held their foreheads together for moment longer, watching the confusion and shock in Zhongli’s features, allowing him to digest the words. Deciding some mercy was in order (but not too much), Morax let go and stepped back. “Now,” he said with a little smile on his lips. “What was it that you wanted to say?”

Zhongli flinched, biting his teeth together tightly and looked away. Morax knew exactly what he had wanted to say. After a couple silent seconds Morax chuckled and turned around, walking over to the table by the sliding door. “If you ever feel like saying it or anything else, you may. I will be right here,” he promised, sitting down on his pillow and manifesting a bottle of wine and two cups that he set down on the table. “Come. I suppose a drink or two is not uncalled for when achievements have been made.”

Chapter Text

Zhongli was starting to think Morax enjoyed making him flustered. He hadn’t expected the god to be mad at him, but he had prevented Morax from overseeing the aftermath of the battle. Perhaps disappointed would have been the right term. If he hadn’t been insistent on trying to at least do something, he wouldn’t have slept for 24 hours straight at a critical moment. But instead of letting him even discuss the subject, Morax had suddenly went on a tirade about how things had turned out well in the end, ending with something Zhongli genuinely had not expected.

Proud. Morax was… proud of him. But… how?

It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to deal with matters where other people’s suffering was a requirement for success? Of course, he understood that the results could not be denied: although not a complete victory, they had undeniably won this battle. Liyue was safer with it and some sense of normalcy could return to people’s lives. Although he wished he could have done more, maybe been wiser from the start or made different choices along the way: he had done everything he could. But when was the last time? When was the last time his “everything” had felt so little? If Morax was proud of him, Zhongli would have preferred a time he had truly accomplished something. Not when he was this unsatisfied with his own performance. Not when the best option was for him to let other people do the work.

Zhongli looked down at the serving of wine Morax had set down for him. The god was waiting for him, silently.

For all of this… I am proud of you.

Why was it, that even though half of him resisted, thinking back to those words also made his chest feel lighter? Was this feeling that of simmering frustration or sprouting relief? And why did Morax look like he enjoyed making Zhongli feel like this?

Schooling the whatever-emotions-they-were out of his expression, he sat down on his cushion seat by the table, taking the cup to his fingers. There was so much he didn’t understand. So maybe, the best thing he could do now, was to start a learning, one thing at the time.

“Morax…” Zhongli started, trying to decide where to start. “What is the Rite of Ascension?”

“Straight to business I see,” Morax chuckled and took a sip of his wine, letting it swirl in his mouth. “As you wish. To start, tell me how would you describe the feeling of overusing my power?”

Zhongli thought for a moment. “Like getting crushed under some sort of weight. Or an internal gravity constricting everything you do.”

“Quite aptly put,” Morax hummed, pleased with the description, and raised his cup up as if to appreciate its design. “It is most often referred to as strain. A human body and soul are not meant to use the power of a god. They are simply not made for it. Imagine pouring the entire bottle of wine into this tiny cup at once. The principle is the same: it will overflow and the excess amount will have to go somewhere. In the case of wine, we would have stained clothes or a table to clean. In the case of divine strength, the power will attempt to in a sense cling onto its vessel from the outside instead. Thus, the sense of weight you described. Of course, it is not quite as literal as that.”

Zhongli nodded, but frowned. “So, because your own soul is present to work as the vessel, I can use some of your power still?”

“No. All of my power is technically already yours. You are the vessel. I am able to appear here, because I made room for my consciousness. When we joined together, your soul became able to withstand the strain. Even making one human soul worth bigger a vessel for my power in the process.” Morax looked at him over the rim of his cup after taking another sip. “So, following this logic, it is your body that is unable to keep up. Do you think that when I planned out my own death, I would not have accounted for that possibility?”

Things made a satisfying click in Zhongli’s head. “The Rite of Ascension reinforces my body to meet the requirements of a vessel?”

Morax smiled. “I have done what I can to fortify your body in its absence. Unless the power within the soul is actively used in greater amounts, the body should be able to withstand the conditions until a rite is held.”

“Unless…” Zhongli repeated and frowned down at his wine.

“I see you have a healthy self-awareness. You understand now why both myself and the adepti have longed to hold the Rite of Ascension?” Morax confirmed. “You would be much safer after it, from both our enemies and yourself. And be more of use, as you always seem to worry about.” He smirked into his cup as Zhongli choked onto his wine a little. Deciding not to linger on the fact, he continued. “Are you familiar with the two artefacts bestowed upon Rex Lapis during coronation?”

Zhongli cleared his throat after managing to swallow his wine without incident. “The symbols of wisdom and strength?”

Morax nodded. “The symbol of strength is the weapon the first vessel I chose wielded. His coronation was decided before my passing and we agreed to use my power to reforge his blade into a special weapon only Rex Lapis could use, for the sake of his eventual successors. It takes a form that compliments the current emperor and forms a conduit through which power can more safely be wielded. Likely a polearm, in your case. If someone other than the emperor wields it, it will turn back into the short sword it once was, which at this point has been unmaintained for 834 years.”

“If the symbol of strength would aid me use the power in battle, does the symbol of wisdom aid with other uses of it?” Zhongli asked, following along like an interested history student.

“It is slightly more nuanced than that,” Morax answered, letting the wine in his cup whirl in slow circles. “The symbol of wisdom is a keepsake of mine that I was unwilling to part with upon leaving behind my material form. There is nothing particularly special about it when it comes to Rex Lapis directly. But it does serve as way to help focus oneself.”

Zhongli sipped his wine again, deep in his thoughts. That awful feeling of weight and tiredness that came after using the god’s power was a bit easier for him to understand now. An unpleasant thought crossed his mind and he looked up at Morax. “Can… could the strain have killed me?”

Morax gave him a long look. “Yes.”

“Oh…” Zhongli replied quietly, having not expected such a blunt response. He set down his cup on the table, suddenly feeling a little uneasy. “Is it really safe for me to be here then?”

Morax held up a finger to him and raised more as he answered. “One, you’ve both recovered enough and are used to it by now that soul diving should not pose a serious issue. Secondly, we are in a safe place and help is near should anything happen.” Raising a third finger he gave Zhongli a little glare. “Additionally: in the case the abnormal state of affairs continues, I think it might be for the best that you experience repercussions for your recklessness enough to learn from them.”

Zhongli tensed and turned away from the glare, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise, as long as you understand the risks. I will lend you aid regardless, should you request or need it,” Morax assured. Raising a fourth finger he added. “Also, as I have stated, I cannot help but be a little selfish when it comes to talking with you like this.” He reached out to refill Zhongli’s half empty cup back to the brim, doing the same for his own. Although the cup was filled to the absolute limit, the surface did not waver as he raised it up again to take a sip.

“Can we get drunk here?” Zhongli wondered half aloud, trying to carefully lift his own cup. His expression of concentration was fierce as he slowly moved the cup closer to save it from spilling.

Morax chuckled. “No. Or technically, we can experience the state of drunkenness if we so wish, as long as we have experienced it before. I do not know why you would want to. But what we’re essentially doing right now is reliving a memory of mine: enjoying a recreation of this wine as I remember it. It is as real an experience as our minds let it be, but it will only be a memory again once you return. Myself, I’ve long since been unable to gain any new physical experiences, except through my vessels.”

“This place is… still beyond me for the most part,” Zhongli admitted.

“Visit as much as you’d like. I’d be happy to share more things with you. Perhaps tea next time.”

The earnest invitation tugged the corners if Zhongli’s lips a little. The wine was indeed quite good. Although his alcohol tolerance was quite high, Zhongli didn’t mind that he’d have an opportunity to taste it without having to deal with a headache afterward. Not of the drunken variety at least. The flavour was sufficiently bright and elegant to his tastes. He almost wanted to ask Morax to create something to snack on alongside it as well, but resisted the urge. Now growing curious about the details of soul diving, he lifted his gaze from the surface of the wine, only to find Morax staring past his cup into the night time of the yard, unmoving and his expression more on the rueful side.

As if sensing Zhongli looking at him, Morax blinked, like he had woken up, and glanced over to see the questioning and a bit concerned face. “Ah… I was lost in thought. I do not often drink with someone else these days. To think that I have done so twice now within such a short time… Hmm… No.” He shook his head. “Reminiscing has become a habit of mine in moments like these. I should be more attentive while you’re here. Did you want to ask something else?”

Zhongli thought back to the questions that had already formed, but somehow, they did not feel right at this moment. Instead, he felt bold enough to ask: “What were you reminiscing about?”

Morax raised his eyebrows and then his eyes wandered back to the stone garden. They were quiet for a moment, before he spoke. “Just the various kinds of new physical experiences I’ve had these past centuries. It has happened five times since I chose this path,” his voice turned into a mutter. “That I would lose a vessel because of the strain of my power.”

Zhongli’s fingers flinched a little around his cup, swaying the wine inside, but he said nothing. Morax sounded half like he was talking to him, and half to himself.

“The first four times, it was because of bad timing, mostly. In the heat of battle: a wavering step and faltered stance can make all the difference. Or how at the height of a storm, strength would falter and allow a wave pull the body underneath, deeper and deeper, unable to resist.” Morax lowered the hand holding his cup to rest on his lap. “I’ve experienced much since I cast away my own form. I do not complain of course: it was one of my reasons to do so in the first place. To change my perspective. But it only took until the last years of my first vessel that I realised, that mortality was an experience I never considered. The feeling of only having a few decades or even years to accomplish what you want. Or the regrets and sadness you feel as the clock ticks.”

Zhongli sat as still as possible as he listened. He almost regretted asking, but at the same time, this felt like something he needed to hear.

“I’m no stranger to death, of course,” Morax ruminated. “I’ve seen light leave the eyes of both friends and foes. Held both the hands of those who wished to hang on for a moment longer and of those who had already grown cold by the time I arrived. But…” he paused, looking in the sky outside, this time littered with stars, brighter than those that could be seen from the ever-bright harbour. “It was only after I changed my perspective that I truly experienced it for myself. I’ve stayed with most of my vessels until their deaths. Age. Injury. Disease. Most recently, getting trapped inside a dimensional prison, unable to escape a violent death. So many things that never threatened me before as they are now.” He lowered his gaze briefly to Zhongli before he closed his eyes. “Although my vessels had died because of it, the strain has only once been the cause of death itself. I had experienced death in so many ways by then, I had thought it impossible to find something new. But at that moment… I experienced suicide.”

Zhongli brought his hands together as he connected the dots between what he knew of the strain and the history of Rex Lapis. It was different to think of learnt facts from a completely different perspective. “The 22^nd Rex Lapis,” he said under his breath. Of course, he knew of it. The last Rex Lapis to have used his divine strength in the defence of Liyue’s people. The rage of a remnant god, seals broken in an earthquake, shook the foundations of the mountains. To prevent the people of Mingyun village from being buried alive under the mountain they mined, Rex Lapis had stood firm and bought time for the people to flee and redirected the rubble away from the houses. Only to collapse when the deed was done, not rising again.

Morax took a deep breath and placed his cup of wine down to the table with a little clack. “Self-sacrifice has such a noble ring to it. That is how history sees that event. I never attempted to correct it, knowing people would refuse to see it as I did. Myself…” He paused for a second and sighed. “I cannot think of it that way. Having experienced both, I have come to realise how different it is to stand between an ally and a threat for the sake of a life of another, compared to realising that your own actions are killing you, yet actively choosing to chase that outcome. Abandoning and denying all other possibilities and giving up on ever accomplishing anything else: he held onto those thoughts, even when I tried to point him to the other choices. Which did exist: he just didn’t believe in them or me. He decided it was the way he wanted to die. What I tried or said made no difference. That whole experience was… different. To this day, as much as I have tried, I have not understood him.”

After a long moment of silence between them, Morax shook his head and a more neutral expression returned to his face. “I realise I’ve never spoken of this to anyone. I got carried away: we should speak of lighter topics. I know there was something else you must have wanted to ask. What—”

“Morax,” Zhongli interrupted and looked up to the god’s eyes for the first time since he had realised his latest question had brought up a heavier tone. “If I choose to remain as Rex Lapis after the two years you promised me, I want to change that arrangement to a different time.”

Morax raised his eyebrows. “Meaning?”

“I want you to allow me to retire before I die.”

A shock was clear in the god’s face when he replied. “The separation of souls is not a pleasant matter and at on old age, it could lessen the time you have. You are young. Would you not rather have me by your side until the end, if we end up spending such a long time together?”

“I would,” Zhongli agreed, but shook his head. “But I’d rather you do so through another vessel, so that I know you’ve passed on successfully as well.”

Morax blinked and then snorted. “I don’t think any of my vessels has made such a request before. Very well. I accept. But perhaps we should get you coronated and reach the said two-year mark before discussing this topic again. With the level of synchronisation you have been able to maintain so far, you might have quite a long life purely thanks to physical health, should you choose to indulge me longer than that.”

Zhongli buried his little smile behind the cup of wine. “We shall see.”

“For now, however: was there something you wished to ask?” Morax asked pointedly and emptied his own cup with a gulp, then reaching out to fill it again.

“Would you indulge me?”

“Absolutely.”

The bottle of wine slowly emptied as they talked. Morax eventually summoned another, a different one this time. Their topics ranged from the questions about soul diving Zhongli had wanted to ask:

“It was originally an art used for meditation and self-enlightenment. This space allows you to relive your memories as you remember them or to create a quiet place for you mind to relax. Visiting someone else’s mind requires quite a bit more power. It causes discomfort to the one visited and the visitor themself is at a risk getting lost, not being able to find their way back to their own body. Regardless, it can be used to deliver messages in emergencies. On a grimmer side of things, some adepti have used the technique to escape torture or deadly injuries. But as it leaves your body defenceless and less responsive to healing, it might as well be a way of giving up for good.”

…to the response of the soldiers that had left Zhongli feeling uneasy:

“You forget that you spoke to them not only as their commanding officer or an emperor, but also as a god. One they have waited to appear for weeks during times of uncertainty. I’d imagine that if there are scars those soldiers retain from this battle, they will carry them much prouder.”

…and to the enemies they had faced and the result of the battle itself:

“From what we’ve heard so far, this does not feel like a real victory to me. It feels akin to winning one battle in a war. I cannot imagine that people willing to go this far to try and kill a god would give up after one lost battle. This might offer us time to prepare, investigate and hold the Rite, but I suspect I will be dealing with this matter long into the start of my official duties.”

It was in the middle of discussing the possible motives of their enemies that Morax stopped in the middle of taking another sip of wine.

“Hm,” he hummed, lowering his cup, and smiled a little when Zhongli raised his eyebrows at him. “It appears our time is up. You’ve been caught.”

“Caught?”

“A healer has come to check on you,” Morax explained and gave a low chuckle, dismissing the bottle of wine back to his memories. “And they are very displeased it seems. You might want to prepare for a scolding about soul diving in your current state.”

Zhongli groaned quietly and set down his wine to the table. “I suppose I’ve earnt it.” The white veil that had floated loosely around them like dancing trails of mist spread and started to hide the room and Morax from his view. “One more question, if I may. I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Is this about why the adepti are so on their toes when interacting with you?” Morax guessed and waited for Zhongli to nod. “It’s because they do not yet know you. Each emperor is different: be it personality, preferences or temperament. They are cautious until they’ll learn more of your boundaries and values, as they do not wish to offend you or make you feel unwelcome.”

“Having your god change so drastically every few decades sounds like a big hassle from the adepti’s point of view,” Zhongli muttered as the white fog closed in on him and Morax disappeared from his sight.

Morax’s laugh still reached him for a reply. “Part of the contract the adepti shared with me upon my death, states that should they feel so inclined, they can choose to keep their distance and even renegotiate their contract. But they rarely evoke that right. They have had a remarkable tolerance to Rex Lapis’ whims at times, I must admit. It is also part of the reason why I think I’ve grown to trust them even more over the centuries. Take good care of them for me.”

With Zhongli’s exit, the veil dissipated and left Morax alone in the space within again. Relaxing his shoulders, he listened to the silence for a moment, before drinking the remaining wine left in his cup. He closed his eyes and linked his vessel’s waking senses to his own once more, assessing the situation. A bit sore, it seemed, and some of the tiredness was kicking back in. But all in all: good.

“Good” was definitely more of a Morax opinion than Zhongli’s own. He grunted quietly, a crease forming on his forehead at the thought of getting up. On one hand, his body was screaming for some light exercise, on the other, he really wanted to sleep some more. But then, on an unnatural third hand, he was also hungry, which disagreed with both of the previous two. Sure, he didn’t feel as tired as yesterday when he couldn’t even stand, if one wanted to count that as a “good”.

“Rex Lapis, with all due respect, what were you thinking?” Wave Soother asked with a fierce pout on her face, leaning against the sheets next to him. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“Perhaps because I haven’t been thinking about the right things,” Zhongli suggested and decided that the hunger was the most prominent issue he had.

As soon as he brought his hands up his sides and tried to push himself up, the adeptus grabbed his shoulders and held him down. “No. I will tie you into this bed with all of my authority as a healer if I have to, my lord, no matter how mad at me you’ll be later for it.”

Zhongli didn’t struggle against her. “I won’t be mad, I promise. I understand that you want my best and that I have not made it easy for the adepti recently. But I’m afraid I’m a little too hungry to relax at the moment. Can I please go eat?”

“Oh.” Wave Soother retracted her hands. “Of course you would be. Well in that case, I shall inform someone immediately to make you something. Just wait a moment and I’ll have it brought to you.”

“Uh… right.” Zhongli really needed to get used to the fact that there were people around him willing to do things for him. Although someone occasionally delivered take-out dinners for him to work when he was busy, eating in bed wasn’t something he usually could do. Now that he thought about, the only instance he could remember was the time he had been so sick Hu Tao had ordered someone to watch him at home until his fever went down. The sentiment back then would have been slightly more touching if the person she had appointed hadn’t been an undertaker…

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, no. Please, if you would,” Zhongli confirmed his food order and looked at the healer again. “While we wait, however, will you give me an update on the situation?” Wave Soother groaned at him, but Zhongli raised his hand and continued before she could lecture him about resting again. “It has merely been a day since the end of battle: there is no conceivable way everything has been cleared up and taken care of. The injured were many, yet one of the main adepti healers is here in the palace. I know you are a very diligent person, Qingbo: either you’ve already healed everyone, which would be a feat worth recognition in and of itself, or there is another matter here at the palace you have to address. Alternatively, you are no longer able to perform your duty due to exhausting yourself. In any of these cases, I wish to hear what brought them about. Seeing as you have also not tried to heal me, I am worried the third option to be likely.”

Wave Soother bit her lip and averted her gaze, looking half ashamed, half frustrated. “…You are correct, my lord. I am currently unable to fulfil my duty. I only have my emergency reserves worth of energy. Storm Chaser, Xiánshen and I started working in shifts, so one of us could rest at a time. I have only just arrived in the palace.”

“I should urge you to rest yourself then, I see.”

Wave Soother shook her head. “I am physically able; it is other types of energy I need to replenish. I could still perform surgeries or tie up wounds, but we have agreed to let the human doctors deal with those, while we concentrate on saving those who cannot afford to wait or have more difficult injuries. Madame Ping is currently making me an herbal mix that I can take with me back to the others, to aid with a swifter recovery for us. I chose to come and check on you while I wait.”

“Then seeing as I cannot sleep and you cannot heal, we both have time to talk while we recover. Will you bring me up to speed on the developments?”

The rest of his afternoon until early hours of the night was spent eating, napping and taking short walks in his room he successfully debated a permission for. Most of that time, Wave Soother and, after she returned to her duties, Madame Ping spent time and talked with him. Once another adeptus delivering messages also showed up. As hours passed, Zhongli slowly caught up with the events of the day he had missed.

Except the healers and some messengers, most of the adepti were busy dealing with the matters at the enemy hideout. The messenger adeptus promised to inform the five yaksha that Zhongli had woken up so that they could come see him in person, as they were the most knowledgeable of the bigger picture. The full investigation would still take a lot of time, but they had apparently made some discoveries, including various artefacts that required further study.

The Qixing were in charge of the rest of the battle’s aftermath. Ningguang was handling things in the capital with the help of the other members of the Qixing, while Keqing was still in the Chasm. Now that the huge stealth operation to move an army across Liyue and the secret of Rex Lapis’ whereabouts were both fair game to talk about, the atmosphere in the city was shifting. The first millelith soldiers were starting to return to the Harbor and with them, stories and rumours had exploded like wildfire. Then Ningguang had made a brief public address to inform the citizens of an important battle that had been fought against a looming threat and that Liyue had been victorious. She had also stated in her address that the dispute between the Qixing and the adepti had been solved as the 28^th Rex Lapis had made himself known. The speech wasn’t long and only addressed of a few key details, but it had somewhat blown away the uncertainties that had taken over the people for a time now. Instead, it replaced the uneasiness with rumours that took the city by a storm that only fanned the existing flames.

People wanted to know more and Zhongli could not blame them. But Ningguang was waiting to talk with the others involved, especially Zhongli, before making more detailed statements. Now that Rex Lapis had appeared, the city council also wanted to meet the emperor. Having promised to rest for one more night, starting tomorrow morning Zhongli would step in front of people as the emperor of Liyue, fully tackling his duties, with no more schemes to hide behind. It had only been some weeks since the night of the incident that had started all of this, but there was much to do, clear up and set right. To a daunting amount, but Zhongli steeled himself, pacing slowly about his room as the darkness of the night fell deeper outside. He had one more night to get used to this enough to not completely embarrass himself in front of the people who ran the city.

“Will you not sleep, Rex Lapis?” Madame Ping asked as she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. An extra ward that had been set on the door flashed, protecting the entrance from intruders. Now that the people living in the palace knew of Zhongli’s identity, the adepti were trying to make sure no one came in to take a curious peek.

Zhongli stopped pacing and turned to her. “I had another period of rest a while ago. I’d imagine another wave of tiredness will take me later again,” he explained patiently. In truth, he was getting quite restless, although his body still periodically ran out of energy even if he did next to nothing.

Madame Ping smiled. “Then would you like to take your walk outside with me before you wear out a track into the floor? We would like you to sleep in the inner palace for the night, in your own quarters. That is, of course, if you find that agreeable. It would put our minds at ease.”

“You have already prepared them?” Zhongli asked.

He earned a heartfelt little laugh from the elderly adeptus. “Surely you jest, my lord,” Madame Ping said warmly. “We’ve had them ready for your return ever since Xiao told us about you. We had no idea when your personal mission might lead you back to us again after all.”

Zhongli thought for a moment but couldn’t think of a logical reason to refuse. “Very well.”

“Excellent. I shall lead the way.” She turned to the door again. “Although I doubt you would get lost regardless.”

“Unless you’ve changed the layout during these few weeks, I do not think so, no,” Zhongli admitted with a little smile.

Madame Ping’s hand stopped at the door, gracing the wood without grabbing on to open it. “If I may ask, your majesty: can you… can you truly talk with lord Morax freely?”

Zhongli stopped behind her, raising his eyebrow a little, wondering why the adeptus asked. “I can.”

The old shoulders visibly relaxed with a relieved sigh as Madame Ping turned around to face him. “Oh, that is so lovely to hear. He hasn’t been pestering you constantly, has he? That old dragon gets lonely easier than he likes to admit.”

<Don’t listen to her.>

Zhongli breathed out a laugh. “He indulges himself in my company from time to time. I was a bit wary in the beginning, but I do not mind it anymore. Unfortunately, our conversations have so far mostly focused on all the troubles we’re facing. A fact that we both wish to remedy someday. He also wishes to inform you that he isn’t nearly as lonely as you think.”

“Oh, blessed be the gods,” Madame Ping uttered, her voice sounding like many emotions were trying to spill through at once. She reached out to take Zhongli’s hand on her own and held it gently up between them for a moment, looking down at it in silence. Then she smiled, giving the hand a little squeeze before letting go and opening the door behind her to step out. “Let us be off while you still have some energy to spare, my lord. I do not wish to be scolded by the healers for overexerting you at a delicate time.”

The night was cool and clear. It was late enough for the visitors of the palace to have retired to chat or sleep in their rooms, so the guest courtyard was empty as Zhongli was led away from his temporary bedroom. Empty save for Yun Jin, who sat on a rock in the middle of the garden and hummed to herself as she looked at the stars. She heard their steps and stopped singing to see who was outside. Sharing a look with her, and seeing the slight shift in both her expression and body language as they did, Zhongli wondered how he’s other acquaintances might look at him from now on. Perhaps it was them, rather than general public he should brace himself to meet again.

He smiled a little and nodded to the opera singer in passing, although he suspected it was a little too dark for her to catch. Deciding not to stop and chat, he continued to walk, thoughts wandering towards the memories of casual meals at Wanmin Restaurant or sharing tea with others while listening to the storyteller at Third Round Knockout. Had he without noticing it had his last chances of experiencing those things?

Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention and he glanced back towards yard. Yun Jin had stood up. As their eyes met again, she smiled, before dropping her gaze from his and curtseying, as smoothly and refined as one might expect from a professional performer. It was a relief to see that she at least didn’t seem to have ill will against him for the kidnappings, now that the truth about him was out. Since Yun Jin was a very proper person in general, Zhongli made a note to himself to talk with her when the chance came, to maybe ease himself into the conversations with the others. He didn’t know what the people thought of Rex Lapis currently or him as the emperor. Someone like Yun Jin seemed like a safer option to start exploring that ground.

The emperor’s personal quarters were at the highest level of the inner palace’s three layers that climbed up the side of Mt. Tianheng. Actually, the entire third level was considered his. The lower levels housed the emperor’s family and staff, as well as the adepti who stayed at the palace. Places like the dining hall, the imperial library, the kitchen and the main gardens were also found there. They passed places of comfort, work and socializations alike as they climbed from one layer to the next and made their way towards the emperor’s place of residence. The third layer was entirely reserved for Rex Lapis and only those who had now Zhongli’s approval may enter it. The master bedroom, personal baths, multiple studies, various size dining rooms and canopies, a smaller but as well-equipped kitchen than on the layers below, various kinds of rooms to meet and host others, gardens to relax at and a training ground to workout… Zhongli technically wouldn’t have to leave the third layer at all and he could have lived quite comfortably.

They made their way over slowly and as soon as they had left the earshot of the guests, Madame Ping had started telling him about this or that about the inner palace: like things the adepti had done in preparation for his arrival, how awful it had felt to clean up the inner palace and move out the relatives and chosen servants of the previous Rex Lapis on such a sudden notice and what spots in the garden they passed were her personal favourites. Zhongli didn’t mind the chatter or the slow pace: it allowed both a welcome distraction from his own thoughts that had been going in circles about the same subjects for a while now, and allowed him to enjoy his surroundings without tiring too fast. After a while he realised that Morax was holding back on showing him memories of the places they went through. So despite everything feeling familiar, seeing the gardens, the art pieces, the murals and sceneries outside the windows felt like a fresh experience. Watching a little stream shimmer in the moonlight as it bubbled quietly down its path through a serene garden, made Zhongli feel more at peace than he had all day. Several days, in fact.

Madame Ping and another adeptus who had joined them opened a set of wooden sliding doors, that were probably heavier than they made it seem, stepping aside and bowing down to let him enter first. Zhongli stepped up the last few stairs and, a few steps later, over the threshold of the third level. It felt surreal to think that if he ordered so, even the adepti would have to simply close the door behind him and he would have been left alone on the entire floor. Of course, the exception to that rule were matters that regarded his health and safety, so right now when he was still recovering, someone could enter to aid him, if only one person at a time.

“May we, your majesty?” Madame Ping asked from behind him and Zhongli turned around half way to give the adepti standing by the door a small smile.

“Of course,” he said and gestured them to come past the door as well. He had no intention of confining himself to solitude. Besides, based on how they acted around him and considering everything that had happened, keeping the adepti away from Morax seemed incredibly inconsiderate. “Unless I at some point state otherwise, the adepti are free to enter as they wish.”

“All of us?” the other adeptus confirmed as him and Madame Ping followed Zhongli through. “That is quite generous of you, your majesty.”

“Would you like to take a bath?” Madame Ping returned from her tour guide mode to a caretaker role. “The hot springs have been cleaned to be used at any time. If you’d prefer to stay closer to the bedroom to rest from your trek here, it won’t take us long to prepare the indoor bath next to it.”

Although an idea of a hot spring was tempting, it also felt a little too luxurious of a thought at the moment. “The indoor bath would be nice, if you could.” Plus, he was definitely a little tired now. If he tired this easily tomorrow still, it could proof hard for him to meet with too many people. Zhongli did not wish to appear incompetent on his first official day handling his new duties.

He was lead to his bedroom and left alone for a while. The joined bathroom the other adeptus disappeared in was about the size of the bedroom itself. Meanwhile, Madame Ping set out, after folding out some clothes for him to use, to deliver him a light evening meal to eat before sleeping. As they excused themselves, Zhongli stood silently at the centre of his new bedroom, trying to feel at home. The bedroom alone was bigger than his entire old apartment. He wasn’t used to this much space. The earthen colours of the sheets and curtains at least were soothing to him, but it would take him some time to feel like this place was his home. He might need to do some adjustments.

<Do whatever makes you feel at home. I do not mind redecorating.>

Zhongli walked over to the large window that gave him a view over the city towards the sea. The barriers surrounding the palace added a golden yellow sheen to the night sky and made the lights of Liyue Harbor glimmer. “Is there anything you would like to add here, Morax?”

<Me? My preferences make little difference. Even if we brought something here that I enjoyed but you ended up feeling uncomfortable with it, I would also become unable to appreciate it, because I could always feel your discomfort.>

“I would like to know even so,” Zhongli insisted. If it was something Morax liked, he was prepared to grow accustomed to it to let the god have some new experiences with his favourite things.

Morax laughed. <Are you purposefully making it harder for me to hold my end of the contract should you choose to leave me in two years? But since you insist, I will think of something.>

Zhongli nodded and pulled the curtains over the window, deciding to get ready to bathe. But he only managed to take two steps away from the window before an unexpected sound brought him to a stop. Had it not been for Morax getting alerted as well, he might have dismissed it as the adeptus in the next room over making noise while preparing the bath.

“Sound” was perhaps an inaccurate way to describe what he sensed. It wasn’t something his ears heard although his brain registered it as a sound.

Knocking.

Insistent.

Continuous.

Not on the door or the window, but all around him, sending him a message. It wasn’t someone asking if they could come in: it was someone saying “I can make my way in and cause a ruckus or you can give me a permission”.

It took Morax a few seconds to identify the knocker and when he did Zhongli pulled in a sharp breath and stiffened. He stood still for a few seconds, going through the instructions Morax was giving him over and over in his head in rapid succession. In the background the knocking “sound” continued, waiting and unrelenting.

Trying to calm himself the best he could, Zhongli walked across the room to the main light and turned the knob that controlled the flame, dimming the light in the room to almost dark. Taking a lone candle from a low shelf by a wall, Zhongli walked to the largest table in the room, by the window he had just looked through. The knocking in the background was getting a little faster and impatient, as Zhongli carefully set the unlit candle at the centre of the table and took a step back. As per Morax’s instructions he stood up tall, keeping his eyes on the candle as they ever so slightly lit up in response to the words he spoke.

“You may enter.”

The knocking ceased. The sudden silence almost made Zhongli shiver but he stood firmly still and waited in the almost dark room for what would happen next. He felt a shiver in the air as something slipped through the barrier high above their heads and made its way inside the palace’s grounds. The curtain covering the closed window fluttered as if in a small gust of wind, briefly letting through some light into the room before the fabric settled again.

Zhongli kept his eyes firmly on the candle. Morax had ordered him to stand tall, to not show cowardice or indecisiveness. It was important for his visitor to take him seriously.

With a quiet sizzling sound, first came a red spark by the heart of the candle, flaring brightly in the dark. Then the candle was lit with a fluttering flame coming to life on its own. The light from the candle brightened the room again, growing stronger and stronger as the flame grew past the confines of the little candle and started to rise, until a fist-sized ball of flame hovered in the air on Zhongli’s eye level.

The door to bathroom burst open, filling the bedroom with the light from beyond it, but the adeptus stopped dead on his tracks in the doorway when he saw the source of what he had suddenly sensed. Zhongli also quickly raised his palm towards him, signalling him that there was no danger. His eyes he kept firmly on the ball of fire still however, watching it flicker silently. The adeptus dismissed his bow immediately and bowed down, stepping back away from the bedroom, closing the door to leave the two gods to discuss in peace.

When the adeptus had retreated, Zhongli lowered his hand and nodded slowly in greeting to the flame. “Your presence is welcome, Lady of Fire. I trust my messengers have reached you?”

The flame fluttered, flaring up a few times. Zhongli listened to the sound that wasn’t a sound that reached him, letting the meanings be heard without words.

“That is excellent news. Things here are under our control for now,” he replied to what Morax helped him decipher. “Our enemies have been forced to retreat.”

The flame lashed out a little left and right, strings of fire escaping the ball shape until they dispersed into the air.

“We will do our best, of course,” Zhongli assured. “Regardless, it is good to hear from you.”

The flame, for a lack of a better word, huffed.

Zhongli quickly shook his head, but Morax growled at him at the back of his mind not to give the Pyro Archon too much leeway with her tone. “That is not what I meant. Sharing information is key when facing a common enemy, no? If he agrees, you may keep my messenger with you a while longer. What will you do now?”

The flame’s sparks danced in the air and its colour grew darker and more red. Zhongli frowned, but decided to say nothing, only nodding in response. The flame continued its silent communication, turning from red to blue next, until Zhongli felt the warmth of it clearly on his face where he stood.

“I will share with you whatever we learn,” he promised. “I will not attempt to stop you, but I ask you to remain ever vigilant and expand the same courtesy to us. And do send my adeptus back in one piece.”

The flame spun around its axis, for a second creating another ring of fire around itself, before it dove down and shrunk back into the heart of the candle. For a moment the little flame flickered still and Zhongli nodded to it in response. Then the room again grew darker, as the flame snuffed itself out, leaving behind a thin trail of smoke to rise from where it had been.

Feeling the god’s presence exit the palace, Zhongli took in and let out a deep breath, watching the smoke travel upwards from the candle like grey see-through snake, slithering towards the ceiling. Too focused on the affairs in Liyue, which was justified of course, it had slipped his mind that their issue was larger than what could fit inside their borders. They needed to verify the fate of the God of Wisdom, re-establish contact with Inazuma and learn more about the attack on the Tsaritsa. And although they now knew the Pyro Archon was about to set out on a conquest, there was still no word from the adeptus who had been sent to Fontaine. It wasn’t just the Qixing, the council or even the people of Liyue he had to meet on the coming days and months: they had archons to contact.

Chapter Text

Washing off all the dirt and sweat from his body felt like some of his stress itself was melting away into the water. Even without the bath being as luxurious as it was (and way too big for one person in his opinion), sinking shoulders deep into the warm water soothed the aches of his body he hadn’t even realised existed. During the day he had slept, according to Morax, Madame Ping had used a dampened towel to clean off some of the dust of the battle from his face, neck and arms: as much as was respectfully possible without taking any clothes off without his permission. But aside from that, he had last taken a moment to properly think about hygiene early in the morning before the day of the battle. Not perhaps a long time ago in general, but a lot had happened. Cupping water into his hands and letting the cleaning warmth trickle down his hair made Zhongli wonder why hadn’t he thought to do this sooner. There had even been a washing basin in his previous room, but for some reason it had completely slipped from his mind, in favour of pacing about in his thoughts.

He had refused the offer to help with washing up from the adeptus who had prepared the bath, so that he might privately discuss with Morax about the Pyro Archon’s visit and what it entailed. But the warm water was tempting him to simply take a moment and relax, despite the work that needed to be done. He really wasn’t at the top of his game, if this was all it took to crumble his will. They knew now that Natlan had been attacked as well, in what their archon had described to be “underhanded and disgraceful” way. She had been hurt, but done twice as much in return, and was now getting ready to personally hunt down anyone and anything that remained. It sounded like something she valued had been damaged in the process, but she hadn’t told them the details. Zhongli hoped the adeptus sent to her side could later give them a more detailed report.

But that was all the thought process Zhongli had energy for before he surrendered to the warmth of the water. In any case, the matters in Liyue were their priority. As much as sharing information at a time like this was important, each archon was in charge of their own region first and foremost. And Morax’s was set to wait until tomorrow before their newest emperor would take on his duties. Which meant Zhongli could take this night still to recover and have a moment to be at peace. He closed his eyes and listened to the little splashing and dripping of the water as he ran his fingers through his hair. He knew Morax was probably somewhat responsible for this calmer mindset, but he didn’t have the will to complain. Rubbing and massaging the reminders and aches of battle from his body, Zhongli had to resist the urge to fall asleep then and there. If the Rite of Ascension would help him to feel less tired in his new role, he could hardly wait for it himself.

<It is a liberating feeling,> Morax rumbled with a pleased tone, seemingly enjoying sharing the feeling of the warm bath. <Hmm… Like changing out of very constricting clothes to something that fits. I am interested to see which ones of my features you will adopt at the official ceremony.>

Zhongli groaned and slapped a hand over his eyes. He had forgotten that was a thing. “That is mandatory?” He was suddenly less eager about the Rite again…

<Why be embarrassed? The transformation is temporary and not only an important moment for us but the people of Liyue as well. It will momentarily reveal the extent of our compatibility, which will help us plan for any future endeavours. To the people it serves as proof that they still have their archon’s favour and protection. Seeing their emperor take on the features they know from history, will tie Liyue’s past to the present in a way they can remember and hold onto for hope. Rex Lapis is the protector of Liyue, be it a quill or a sword in hand. After the turmoil we’ve had, seeing and feeling the power that stands between them and all the whispered threats will help give people a peace of mind.>

Zhongli knew that, of course. The previous Rite of Ascension was an unnaturally vivid memory in his mind, considering how young he had been. He had heard many stories from those who had seen the Rite before that as well: how the memories of the emperor’s ascension to official godhood would remain fresh in the mind over the decades. Although he understood the importance of it, it was why he grew a little anxious thinking about going through the ceremony himself. If something went wrong, he messed up or if he gained a weird inhuman feature in the process, everyone would remember it for the rest of their lives.

<You fret too much. I am confident there isn’t a single feature of my ancient form that would not suit you just fine. As if I’d let someone mock you for that even if that were the case.>

“That doesn’t really make me feel better…” Zhongli mumbled, but relaxed again against the edge of the tub. The warmth of the water was simply too comfortable for an argument.

Eventually, he had to force himself out of the bath before another round of tiredness weighed too heavily on his eyelids. Hopefully this one would allow him to sleep until morning, instead of another shorter nap. He wanted to be able to do his best tomorrow: not just peek in for a few moments before backing out. But he had promised Morax that if he did start feeling tired again in the middle of the day, he would take a break and prioritise his recovery for a while. According to the god, strain was something that would bite back harder and take longer to recover from each time he overdid it, if he didn’t take proper time in between. His body had been repeatedly tested since their souls had joined together, what with the repeated instances of strain, sleeplessness, light injuries and the three-day period he had slept on a cave floor, so caution was due as not to dip past a much more strenuous edge to climb back up again. It was also better to have a little reserve strength to defend himself if something happened still, even with the adepti protecting him.

Zhongli wrapped the brown and gold bathing robe he had been provided around himself and stepped back into the bedroom, patting his long hair a little dryer into a small towel. He was greeted with a sight of Madame Ping quietly humming to herself while folding out some clothes onto a divan next one of the windows. A tray of food had been set on the table.

“I must admit I was not aware the adepti ‘serving’ the emperor was quite this literal,” Zhongli decided to voice what he had been thinking for a while. He was still trying to get used to the idea that the illuminated beasts, who he had for his entire life revered as higher beings to respect, were now bowing down to him whenever they met. It was slightly unpleasant…

“That is true, we usually don’t,” the old adeptus replied with a smile (after another one of those little dips of the head to speak of the devil). “Does it bother you? Rex Lapis has appointed human servants to attend to his daily needs in recent centuries. But you have not commissioned anyone as of yet, so those duties fall to us for now.” She chuckled to herself a little. “I haven’t done this in quite some time. Rest assured I absolutely do not mind it.”

Zhongli nodded and placed the small towel over the armrest of the chair by the table. “That is good to hear.” He lifted a lid off one of the dishes to see what inside, which turned out to be a small, colourful serving of salad. He guessed the little bottle of oil with herbs next to it was meant to be mixed in with it. As good as that looked, he closed the lid again and admitted. “To be honest, it does bother me, slightly, but not in any way you must address. I am… thankful, for all you do, truly. But I am not used to being treated like this, especially by ones such as yourself. It will take same time for me to adjust to this life, I’m afraid. Please do not hesitate to tell me if you’re unhappy with something.”

“Oh? My, you are full of surprises, your majesty.” Zhongli raised his eyebrows at the gently teasing tone, but Madame Ping just shook her head. “’Unhappy’… Dear me, he found a sweetheart this time…” she hummed to herself before speaking aloud. “What currently makes me unhappy is how tired you look,” she scolded, warm-heartedly, coming closer. “You’ll practically sleep while standing soon. A few bites of food to stave off the worst hunger that might bother you and then a good rest for the night. That would make me much happier.”

A quick smile crossed over Zhongli’s lips as he took the serving little dumplings offered to him. “Not quite what I meant but easy enough I suppose.”

“That happens to be the only thing I am unhappy with that stems from you,” Madame Ping said. “All other displeasures I feel currently are because of the people who have hurt those I hold dear. I might have been left in charge of the palace this time, but you can trust those miscreants will rue the day I have to pick up my polearm again if they show their faces here once more.”

It was weird to hear such words from someone in a body of an elderly woman, but Morax instructed Zhongli not to question it for his own comfort, so he didn’t. “Speaking of dealing with those people,” he started instead, after swallowing. “What all is there for me to do tomorrow?”

“No official schedule has been made. I can construct a list for you to look at in the morning, with all the possible things that require your attention,” Madame Ping offered, to which Zhongli nodded before she continued. “The only thing that will require a timely arrival from you is the city council meeting in the afternoon where your attendance has been announced in advance. We have of course told them that should your health deteriorate during the day, you will not attend or will only do so briefly.” She took the dumpling plate when Zhongli moved to place it back on the tray. “But all of that is for tomorrow. My current source of unhappiness has only been partially addressed after all.”

Zhongli didn’t protest. Taking the set of night garments waiting for him at the edge of the bed, he moved behind a folding screen to change. The promise of sleep was looming heavy on his head, but he could not help but stop a little in wonder at the silken fabrics as they slid against his skin. The bath, the food, the clothes… everything was so luxurious it honestly felt a little unfathomable. He was almost a little nervous to step into the enormous bed, but his body had been denied rest for too long and was starting to protest rather impatiently, so he sank into the nest of pillows and sheets, deciding to welcome the comfort. He exchanged a few more words with Madame Ping, before she wished him goodnight, excused herself and the door closed.

Zhongli felt like he merely blinked once before he heard a knock on the door and it was opened again. The amount of light streaming through the cracks between the curtains also changed within that blink. Morax’s veritable library of random knowledge and experience automatically read the thin lines of light on the floor like a sun dial when he barely glanced over, telling him that it was somewhere between eight and nine in the morning.

“Oh, you’re awake. Good morning, Rex Lapis.”

It was Ganyu who was standing by the door. Zhongli slowly sat up while offering a return greeting. He was a little groggy, although this was later than he usually slept, even on days off.

“Did I wake you?” Ganyu asked and bowed quickly. “I’m sorry for barging in: I just came to check on you. W-we still consider you to be recovering so we have a contractual obligation to do so. You’re not mad at me, are you? How are you feeling, your majesty? If you’re still tired, you can sleep some more, of course.”

“Ms. Ganyu, not only are you doing your duty, you’re thinking my best. I have no reason to be mad,” Zhongli assured. He squeezed his fingers tightly into a fist a couple of times to test the strength he could muster. Still not the best it could be, but the abrupt wake up aside, he felt better than yesterday. “My strength is returning. Not a lot, but enough.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” Ganyu said and came closer to stand by his bed. “Did you sleep well? Will you rest some more or should I help you get ready for your day?”

“I slept well, thank you. I should start preparing for the day,” Zhongli replied but then frowned, considering Ganyu’s words again and looked up from his hands. “You will help me get ready?”

Ganyu blushed and started waving her hands in front of her in defence. “I— uhm, well yes, I mean: I am your secretary. I’ve long been the personal aid for Rex Lapis, it’d be a shame to— Of course, if you’d rather have someone else, I completely understand!”

“No, no, what I meant was that I thought you were helping out in the Chasm,” Zhongli corrected himself, realising his wording had been a bit crude. “If you’re here and have time to attend to me, have the investigations finished?”

“What do you mean ‘time to attend to you’? That is the most important time I could have.” Ganyu looked a little embarrassed, but her tone was determined. “We heard you would to return to your duties today so I came back to do my work. The exploration of the enemy hideout is still underway, but not everyone is needed there anymore so many adepti are returning to other duties. Bosacius and Xiao have also returned to the palace and wish to talk with you when you’re able.”

“I should not waste time and keep them waiting then,” Zhongli said and got up from bed. The clothes on the divan looked like a set for him to wear and the food on the table was still preserved to be consumed whenever under their enchanted lids. He usually tried to get up early enough to have time to sit down for a morning tea but that could be sacrificed for some efficiency.

“Aah! Please don’t push yourself, your majesty!” Ganyu rounded the bed in a little panic. “It would be bad if you overdid it again before recovering properly.”

Zhongli chuckled a little at how she fretted over the most basic tasks. “I promise to be careful, Ms. Ganyu. I understand the risks and do not wish to be bedridden for this long again either. Is there a comb or a brush I could use?” His hair was a mess.

“Of course!”

While Ganyu busied herself with lining all kind of products and items he could use to get himself ready, Zhongli changed into his clothes behind the folding screen. The set on the divan had been his regular clothes from home, but most of the items and pieces of clothing had doubles or even triples, allowing him to choose between his own or something similar but new. Ganyu explained that they hadn’t had the time to take proper measurements or ask his preferences, so they had worked with what they could to turn his civilian attire a little more regal looking. Zhongli understood there were certain expectations for the emperor when it came clothing and did his best to work out a combination that elevated his normal clothes to meet the standard. It was an interesting task: he was especially fond of the dragon scale print added to the tail of his coat.

While eating, he discussed his schedule with Ganyu. Madame Ping had made a list as she had promised and Ganyu had made some adjustments after her return early in the morning. Aside from the council meeting held in about five hours, he could choose his schedule to include either meetings, visits, preparations or public appearances according to what he deemed most important.

As for his options, the yakshas could give him more information about the situation in the Chasm. Ningguang had requested to meet him in private to discuss various issues. He could choose to meet with the victims of the kidnappings or visit the millelith returning from battle. At some point, he’d have to make his first official visit to the Yiyan Temple as the newest proxy of the Lord of Geo. The Rite of Ascension, the funeral for the deceased soldiers and the Rite of Parting for the deceased adeptus were all being prepared. He could also choose to talk to the people of Liyue, to ease both their curiosity and any lingering anxieties. Additionally, he could talk with the adepti about things like his clothes or housing, but that he dismissed as unimportant for now immediately.

Pushing his immediate impulse aside and telling himself that the funerals could be arranged without his involvement, Zhongli started making a list of priorities. Hearing about the aftermath of the battle and meeting with Ningguang were at the top of it. Especially knowing what the adepti had found would help him plan and prioritize what other things he should do. Unfortunately, Ningguang’s schedule that Ganyu provided him was rather tight, although the qilin assured him that the Tianquan was prepared to change it for him. Zhongli still decided to push their meeting until after the council. He also needed to keep his own stamina in mind and not pack his schedule too full, in the case he needed some time to rest.  Things like the official visits could wait until he had a better handle on the situation. He also didn’t wish to go in front of the public before discussing with Ningguang. The funerals he would leave to Hu Tao for now, as much as he wanted to be involved in them.

After a few agreements and notes added to both of their lists, Zhongli finished his breakfast while Ganyu excused herself to prepare some of his upcoming selections. After ensuring his hair had been tamed for the day, Zhongli made his way towards a study down the hall. It was one of the smaller ones, although still slightly bigger than his office had been in the Funeral Parlor.

Once inside, Zhongli ran his fingers against the fine wooden desk, that he suspected to be far less clean once he had some paperwork to do. The furniture was showing some signs of use, but at least the previous Rex Lapis didn’t seem to have been the type of a person who would replace a thing as soon as it was no longer pristine and proper.

<My 26^th vessel was like that. He’d often sell entire rooms worth of furniture and buy new ones.>

Zhongli turned up his nose. “That sounds like a waste.”

<On the contrary. He had quite the keen business sense. Items used by Rex Lapis himself sold for much higher prices than the new furniture he commissioned.>

“Are you serious…” Zhongli shook his head but straightened when he heard the knock on the door. “Enter,” he offered and greeted the two yaksha properly as they came in.

“Rex Lapis,” Bosacius started, bowing down to him. “It is good to see you back in action.”

Zhongli nodded. “I will have to keep an eye on my stamina and be careful about the use of power, but otherwise you can consider me fully recovered. But enough of that: how are things in the Chasm? Have you learnt anything new?”

Bosacius grunted. “A few things. Most notably, we have found a few intact artefacts our enemies have utilized. Cloud Retainer and Stream Herder are presently studying them more closely. We’ve also found a few documents that look like some manner of reports.” He took out some papers and respectfully handed them for Zhongli to see. “Unfortunately, we cannot read this scripture. Might our lord recognize it?”

Zhongli took the papers and looked through them in thought. His mind was digging deep into Morax’s memories to recognize or even find a resemblance to another writing system. The two examples he had been given were clearly different: the first one short with a seal of some kind at the bottom, the other longer, comprised of several pages of long paragraphs and what seemed like lists. Judging by the difference in the handwriting, they were written by different people.

“It is not a writing system any current or historic civilization has used,” Zhongli mused, looking at the dark curls and sharp lines intertwining against the white parchment. “But it does bare some resemblance to abyssal scripts. This symbol for example resembles the one in ancient abyssal for the sound ‘ou’ or ‘oa’, depending on its partnering syllables. The lines cutting across it, however, do not belong to scripture as I know it. However, it has been quite some time since I’ve come across it, so it is well possible the writing system has evolved. But using that scripture as reference, it might be possible to partially decipher these documents.”

Zhongli paused in a little shock, realising he had started talking like all of this knowledge was his own: like he had been the one studying the basics of abyssal linguistics, thousands of years ago. It had come to him so naturally he had not even noticed he had been talking in first person.

<Does this perhaps explain to you a little bit why most of my vessels are able to treat me as part of themselves, instead of a separate entity?> Morax inquired.

“It does, actually,” Zhongli mumbled in response, so consumed in wondering about the naturality of the phenomena, that he did not even realise he responded aloud.

“Hm? Does what, your majesty?”

“Oh: nothing. Just thinking out loud.” He needed to stop talking to Morax out loud in the presence of others unless he wanted to look like a lunatic… “Let us form a team to decipher these. I believe Yèzili will be the best choice to lead that study, given her interests. Some human experts on linguistics could be of help as well. I will send a request to the Liyue university’s departments of history and literature to find some experts on the subject.”

After discussing the subject a moment longer, Bosacius continued on to other topics, starting by giving Zhongli a written report of the adepti’s findings so far. List of items that had been found, a drawn map of the entire stronghold, studies on the nature of magical objects and locks within, traces of activity… Zhongli carefully absorbed everything in the report in detail, committing it to memory in the case any small thing would be relevant later.

“Attacks directly against all of the Seven, followed by an invasion of an army,” Xiao grumbled and crossed his arms. “They sought to weaken us and invade during the chaos that would have followed the deaths of the archons. Except that they grossly miscalculated.”

“Miscalculated?” Bosacius repeated, his voice rising in volume. “There is no need for such mince your words when discussing their heinous acts. They are nothing but fools who have now managed to alert the entire world to their schemes!”

“I find it difficult to believe these people would bet their entire plan on getting rid of the gods.” Zhongli shook his head. “If it were so, why would they have continued preparing their attack, when those attempts were failing in almost every nation? Surely not out of pure stubbornness.”

“You have my word we will get to the bottom of this,” Bosacius declared and buffed his chest to stand in attention.

“I know you will. And I will help you with it,” Zhongli reminded, before he’d get another speech about leaving things to the adepti. “The fact of the matter is that we cannot let our guard down, no matter their possible miscalculations. Rex Lapis was supposedly ‘the easy one’ to get rid of. Had things been only a little different, they might have achieved more than simply forcing a change of emperors. We still do not know what they planned to do with the so-called extras they kidnapped either. Whatever their aim, these people have been bold enough to challenge the entire world, but do not seem dumb enough to think it might be easy.”

Xiao had bitten his teeth together and bowed his head down when he next spoke. “We have yet to formally make amends for our previous mistakes, my lord. Your predecessor—”

“Later, Xiao,” Zhongli stopped him. “We can talk of such things when things have calmed down.”

“Rex Lapis.” Bosacius spoke again. “With all the evidence we have gathered, it seems likely that the nation of Khaenri’ah is involved with our enemies to some capacity. As the nation, or what remains of it at least, falls outside the rule of the Seven and we have no established way to contact them, we need your permission to investigate the lead closer. Do we have your consent?”

Zhongli frowned. “Do not be hasty. Khaenri’ah is little more than a shadow of a nation today, where the royalty watches over a dead capital. Both its people and technology have scattered around the world over the centuries. We have no proof the people we are dealing with associate with the remaining royalty or law. And if they do, revealing our hand too early may prove detrimental.” His fingers rubbed against his chin, as he wove together possibilities in his head. “It might be best to rely on the people we know to have connections with Khaenri’ah in the present day.”

Xiao’s face scrunched up. “You wish to work with the harbingers?”

“The Cryo Archon, to be specific. I know her chosen eleven do not have the best reputation, but we should not limit our options needlessly.”

The adepti both seemed to want to disagree with him, but decided not to. So they continued going through the report the adepti had made, piece by piece in more detail. Bosacius took care to explain every plan of action they were planning to take going forward, making sure everything had Zhongli’s approval. To a ridiculous degree. Morax had told him that the adepti were exploring his values and ideals, but Zhongli really needed drill into their heads that he trusted their judgement more than this.

Ganyu appeared at the door around two hours into their discussions, insisting the three moved their discussions to a garden pavilion. She and Zhongli had made an agreement in the morning that Ganyu would personally see to it that he did not overdo it before they were more certain of his stamina. A warm spring day spent sitting outside while drinking tea and enjoying some light snacks was her first recommendation to stay refreshed. Zhongli agreed, seeing the benefit. It was indeed a pleasant day to sit outside, even while discussing important matters. Although he wished the yaksha would have joined him in this little delight, but dining with him seemed to be something they wanted to avoid while on duty. Which was almost always, Zhongli wanted to point out. It wasn’t always as clear, but when dealing with the adepti he at times started feeling a strange sense of being held at a distance, contrasting the respect and care they were showing him. Morax seemed a bit apprehensive when that thought crossed his mind, but remained silent, for one reason or another.

They finished their rather detailed discussions well before Zhongli was needed elsewhere, even with slowed down pacing after moving outside. With Ganyu’s help, Zhongli wrote his inquiry to the university and accepted the invitation Ningguang had sent him to join her for dinner after the council meeting. Bosacius excused himself to return to the Chasm, but Xiao stayed behind as his bodyguard, although he disappeared from immediate sight, as he seemed to prefer. Realising he still had some time before the council meeting, Zhongli decided to make his way through the palace at a slow pace again and stop by the guest quarters on his way to the governing offices. It would not be his official meeting to apologise to them, but there was something else that needed to be done and would allow him assess a little what they thought of him.

He didn’t want to make a huge scene or gather up all the kidnapped and their families just yet, so he forbid Ganyu from making announcements ahead of his arrival. It was midday and most people were coming back from enjoying their lunch at the dining hall. There were not quite as many people here as before: only the kidnappees were required to stay, so their families and friends had seemingly started taking turns to keep them company during the day, to work or run errands in the city. The opportunity to use the facilities of the imperial palace usually reserved for high-ranking guests was still used to its fullest, make no mistake.

The first one to notice him was a child: one of the three who been left to call out in vain in the streets when their mother had disappeared while out shopping. The now reunited family had taken their lunch outside to enjoy it at a garden table. The mother herself looked healthy and showed no ill effects from her captivity, but the colour drained from her face quickly when she looked in the direction her daughter was pointing at. The plate of food almost dipped over as she tried to push it aside as fast as she could to stand up.

“There is no need for that. I’m sorry to have interrupted your meal,” Zhongli said, causing the mother to turn around quickly to face him.

“No, no. No interruption at-” the mother spoke fast before slapping a hand over her mouth and dropping her gaze to the ground, as if just realising who she was talking with.

“Please, relax, I’m not here in any official capacity. I just wanted to see how the people here are doing,” Zhongli tried to soothe her and cleared his throat. “Has your stay here been pleasant?”

“Nothing but pleasant,” the woman managed to breathe out another fast string of words, sounding extremely nervous. “We are most grateful. Everyth—”

“The baths here are awesome!” her younger son interrupted, causing the poor mother gasp in panic and try to grab him before he skipped more than a step closer towards Zhongli. She opened her mouth and tried to force out what was probably an apology for her son’s behaviour, but Zhongli ignored her in favour of talking with the child.

“Oh?” Zhongli asked and smiled at the young boy. “I haven’t had a chance to try the ones here myself. What are they like?” He knew from a few hundred years back when the Rex Lapis of the time had renovated them of course, but that wasn’t important.

“They’re huge!” the daughter of the family enthusiastically joined in, much to their mother’s apparent despair. “There were tons of pools, like smaller ones with different types of water. There was a little waterfall in one! That pool had a huge rock in the middle that was at least this big.”

“And we could climb on it and hop down the other side because the other side was so deep! Mom was just tall enough to stand in there,” the older boy joined in, encouraged by the back up from his sister, despite his mother’s frantic hands reaching for him as well to stop them from talking.

Zhongli chuckled. “That sounds exciting indeed. Will you go there again tonight?”

“Can we?”

“Of course. As long as your mother gives you permission and comes with you of course.”

The older boy caught his mother’s arm and hugged it tightly against himself. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m not letting mom out of my sight until the bad guys are all caught up.”

Zhongli supressed a sigh. “That might take a moment, unfortunately. But it should be much safer out there already for your mother.”

“I’ll protect mom too!” the daughter echoed the sentiment. “I’m the oldest so I need to show you how it’s done.” She stuck her tongue out towards her brother.

Zhongli listened to the children banter back and forth for a while, while their mother looked mortified, unsure should she stop them or let things be since Zhongli didn’t seem to mind. She urged them a couple of times to quiet down, but the children were too busy with each other to hear her quiet voice. Clearly, she was too nervous to speak. Zhongli offered a smile to her.

“The bad guys were mean to you too, yeah?” the youngest asked, looking up at Zhongli after the argument ended with an agreement of a joined effort going forward. “Do you want us to protect you too? Mom said it’s super important that nothing bad happens to you.”

“I… um…” the mother squeaked, looking like she wanted to crawl into a hole.

Zhongli laughed a little. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. You should concentrate on being there for your mother.”

“Are you, like, someone important?” the girl asked. Next to her, the mother became somehow even paler. “The adults were making a fuss about it yesterday but it was boring so we didn’t listen.” Some of the said adults also became quite pale as they watched the scene unfold from a distance.

“I suppose important is one way to describe it.” Zhongli decided to leave the details for their mother to explain. “But I am also the reason someone was mean to your mother in the first place. For that I cannot apologise enough.”

“Huh?” the older boy asked and frowned at him. “So, were you like in cahoots with the bad guys first but they turned on you?”

“No, they were always my enemies. But your mother was involved because I was careless and they managed to surprise me;” Zhongli explained, trying to find a balance between truthful and easy for even the youngest child to understand. “I’m sorry.”

The mother had raised her eyes to properly him for the first time since the beginning when he spoke. She looked like she could not believe her ears. “No, that’s…” she whispered, averting her eyes again, staring into the distance. “It’s not your—”

“I’m afraid a simple sorry will not be enough for me,” a new voice joined in and Zhongli turned to look at the woman who had been listening to them talk with his entourage. Zhongli could have guessed who this was, even without Morax supplying him with the information.

“Darling, stop,” a man beside the master of the Weng Liu house begged in whisper, tugging her clothes. “Do you realise who he is?”

“I’m sorry, but no matter who he is, if what he says is true, my son went through hell because he was careless,” the woman said bitterly, but lowered her head into a bow nevertheless. “I want a proper explanation for this situation. Surely your majesty can offer as much.”

“Majes…” the young girl repeated under her breath and Zhongli saw her grab onto her mother’s shoulder in his peripheral. “Mom…”

Zhongli focused his attention to the noblewoman. “That is my intention. It is part of the reason why I have come to see you today. Tomorrow, I wish for all of the people involved with the incident to gather, so that I may discuss the situation with them properly, as well as formally make amends for the suffering I’ve caused. I stopped by to inform you of the fact. Unfortunately, I cannot be certain of my exact schedule for tomorrow still. The adepti will inform you of the details at a later time.”

The woman seemed a little taken aback by his response, but bowed down properly after a second. Zhongli took that to mean the opportunity to talk was enough for now and turned back to look at the mother and three children.

“I must be going now. You should return to your meal before it gets cold. I will see you tomorrow, ma’am.” He tried to keep his voice gentle, but he couldn’t shake the feeling the children were looking at him differently now. Nevertheless, he smiled at them. “And you three have my permission to enjoy the baths here to the fullest.”

“Awesome…” the older of the boys whispered, his eyes glued to him while he tugged his mother’s sleeve. “Mom. It would be really rude of us to not go take another bath after this, right?”

It was his older sister that this time swatted him to keep quiet, while the mother muttered her permissions quietly, trying to gather her thoughts. She bowed down to Zhongli, mouthing something so quiet even he could not hear and nudged her children back towards the table where their food was waiting, half-eaten. Zhongli turned to leave as well. The youngest child waved to him after hesitating for a second, causing him to smile and raise his hand to a short wave as well, before he left the courtyard. Because of his enhanced hearing, he could hear how the children exploded as soon as he was a little away, babbling and asking questions, which their mother tried to answer to, to the best of her ability.

Before the meeting with the council, Zhongli took some time to meditate and talk with Morax. There were small rooms attached to the chamber where the city council held their meetings and, choosing one, he sat into a chair, eyes drifting shut and tried to close his ears to all sounds to clear his mind. He was doing quite well, as far as his health was concerned, but it was a different kind of tired he needed to prepare himself for. Official meetings were usually stiff, but he had always been good at things like that, able to both stay attentive and keep his back straight through the proceedings. But he had never been the centre of attention quite like this before. The council was made up of the most influential and experienced people in Liyue: experts in their fields in governance, trade, infrastructure and social welfare. His own expertise up until a while ago had been funeral ceremonies and trivia on adepti traditions…

He sat silently in the chair for a good while, talking with Morax about Rex Lapis’ traditional role in the council’s proceedings. His predecessor had apparently only attended the meetings on occasion, trusting the council to make decision he would not need to veto later. That was the power Zhongli had: putting a stop to anything he didn’t like. Rex Lapis didn’t usually participate in votes, as his outweighed the others: his role was often to be who ensured everything was done in accordance to the law, and the final acceptor of any decision. But whether it be a tie or an overwhelming victory or defeat, it was his vote that ultimately decided the course from now on. That was not the type of pressure he was used to.

“My lord.”

Zhongli opened his eyes to see Xiao kneeling before him.

“The council has mostly arrived. Are you well enough to attend?”

Zhongli nodded and stood up. “I am. Thank you. I should not keep them waiting.”

“I will be close, should you need me,” Xiao promised and disappeared.

A few seconds later, the door to the room opened and Ganyu stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “The council is almost ready to start the meeting, your majesty. We’re waiting for the last few people to arrive, but everything is on schedule.”

“Thank you. Xiao reported the same to me just now.” Zhongli corrected his sleeves and lapels. “I am ready.”

“Oh. He did?” Ganyu looked a little vexed but cleared her throat and shook it off. “Should I go ahead and announce your arrival then?”

“Ah, no need,” Zhongli decided and walked over to her. “I’m sure I’ll get enough attention as is.”

“Oh ah… As you wish.”

Zhongli was likely skipping standard procedure, but Ganyu opened the door and stepped out of his way without complaints. For a second longer the door was there to hide him from view, but that was the last time he had to take a deep breath before facing the leaders of Liyue. The talks and murmurs that had taken over the small crowd that had sat down on their chairs around the conference table quieted down one by one as he walked closer. Zhongli was thankful now that there were people present who had already met him and knew of his identity. Ningguang and Keqing’s eyes felt like little safe havens in a sea of heavy scrutiny.

Ningguang seemed to enjoy the looks on some people’s faces, judging by the little but knowing smile she tried to hide behind her long nail. Her seat was immediately right of the emperor’s and as Zhongli reached her, she stood up to greet him. “Rex Lapis,” she acknowledged with respectful dip of her head. “We welcome you back among us.”

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Zhongli replied and nodded back, thanking her silently for breaking the silence.

“The situation was what it was,” Ningguang said, straightening to her full height and glancing towards the rest of the table. Some of them had stood up with her or were doing so now, offering their greetings to him.

Keqing had gotten on her feet as well. “Thank you for joining us despite your situation. If you feel unwell at any point, we can take care of the rest, so please do not hesitate to go and rest.”

“Thank you, lady Keqing. I am feeling alright for now,” Zhongli assured, hoping to be back in full health soon so people would stop bringing it up. “But I’ve come to understand you have only just returned from the Chasm this morning yourself. Have you had the time to rest?”

Keqing shook her head. “It’s nothing, I’ve taken enough breaks. I can handle the work and there is a lot of it to be done.”

At that moment, the main double doors to the chamber opened and two more people walked inside with long strides. When the doors closed behind them, the city council was in full attendance.

Ganyu stepped closer to the table next to her seat on the emperor’s left side and cleared her throat. “All have arrived and we are ready to begin. Please allow me to formally introduce you the 28^th Rex Lapis of Liyue. With his majesty’s permission, we will now begin our session.”

Zhongli closed his eyes for a second, before he took his place at the head of the slightly oval-shaped table. “Of course. Please, everyone, take a seat.”

After a moment of clatter and rustling while everyone sat down, Ganyu spoke up again. “The agenda for today was to introduce his majesty to the council and discuss the recent events so that everyone here will be up to date on the goings-on of the past few weeks. Regarding the abnormalities of the situation, Rex Lapis has agreed to answer any questions you might have, so please feel free to speak your mind if there is something specific you wish to know or say.”

“So it is really true…” Li Teng, one of the most influential nobles in the high society, muttered into his hand. “He really did choose a commoner this time.”

Zhongli sighed, but kept it as subtle as he could. He had expected that fact to come up: perhaps it was better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later. His situation was unprecedented in more ways than one after all.

“I heard the rumours,” Hangui, the chairman of the trader association, said next. “But to think they were true.”

Ningguang gave them a sharp look from the corner of her eye. “I fail to see how that changes anything, good sirs.”

“It changes everything, lady Tianquan,” another councilmember, Yanqie, spoke up. “The country is in turmoil and many things are in disarray. To have someone unaccustomed in both governance and leadership in command at a time like this, it does not inspire confidence. With all due respect, your majesty,” he added, as if to soften his words somehow.

“Rex Lapis, are you at all familiar with politics or the matters of trade?” the head of the house of Mung asked Zhongli. “Should you struggle, please do not hesitate to leave things in our hands. We will accommodate you the best we can.”

Morax growled. <Patronizing…>

“Please refrain from making such disrespectful remarks,” Ganyu asked sternly.

“It’s alright, Ms. Ganyu,” Zhongli assured, trying to mend her distaste and Morax’s. “This state of affairs in the country is currently far removed from normal and their concerns for both its prosperity and safety are valid. It is natural to be on the edge when faced with uncertainty at times like this. It is true no commoner has been chosen as an emperor for over six hundred years.”

“For a good reason,” the head of the Song family blurted out with a huff. “The last commoner emperor destroyed the economy.”

“Now now, we cannot distrust the new emperor from the start like this. We have to remain united at the face of adversity. His majesty’s presence is good for the public image and will bring people comfort. It might take some work, but I am sure we can gain the public’s approval.”

“I’m not worried about the public approval: most of the uneducated will likely be thrilled to have one of their own rise through the ranks.”

<Condescending…>

Zhongli flinched minutely at Morax’s spiking ire, but kept his expression in check. “While it is true I have not personally been involved with these sorts of matters before, I assure you I am not as uneducated as you seem to think. If you despite not knowing my personal prowess doubt me, perhaps keeping in mind that I have access to 3500 years of experience of governing Liyue would ease your concerns.”

“Your majesty is new to this, so I will not fault you for being uninformed of things, but you should not rely solely on the guidance of the God of Contracts,” Li Teng replied patiently. “His will is not known to us on immediate basis and you will have to rely on your own knowledge to proceed here.”

The Song family head sighed. “What he means to say is: the presence of our god does not alone make a good emperor. I understand the God of Contracts was forced to make his decision in a hurry and I will of course not oppose him. But this time I must say I do not understand his reasoning. I see many people who I would have thought to have been better options in this room alone.”

“Quite bold of you to assume to know better than the God of Contracts,” Ningguang mused, looking sharply at the people around the table and tapping her nail against her armrest at a steady rhythm. Her eyebrows were furrowing deeper and deeper as the conversation continued.

“All of us have given our vows to ensure the prosperity of Liyue, and tradition and our ancient contracts dictate we are to follow and unite under the imperial banner for this cause,” lord Song said matter-of-factly. “And now the nation we are meant to govern is facing world changing events. What we need right now is a strong leader who can take charge with confidence.” He looked at Zhongli with a frown, trying to see it. “What we have witnessed so far is hiding while the nation falls into the brink of chaos and a sudden call to war that claimed countless lives.”

“Might I add to the list then: retreating to rest at a time like this, despite the adepti assuring us your majesty was uninjured?” Li Teng added. “While it is not my intention to push you, your majesty, a sickly emperor is hardly the strong figurehead the people of Liyue were hoping to rely on. Surely some limits could have been stretched to take your seat earlier? No matter your proficiency, the people wish to know you’re with them for their peace of mind.”

“Come now, I’m sure his majesty did his best. He will be crowned at a difficult time. We need to be understanding and give him our support.”

<Demeaning!>

Morax, calm down, Zhongli bit back a shiver as Morax’s feelings started flowing into him more vividly. I expected this might be an issue. We will work on this. “So that you may better understand the events that have taken place thus far and the reasons for my own actions, we are here today. Also, I think there is a small misunderstanding here I should clear up: I can freely discuss with the God of Contracts if need be.”

“What?” Lord Reng Yao bit out, speaking up for the first time.

Zhongli met his glare patiently. He had met this man when making arrangements for the Rite of Parting. The father of the previous emperor… Zhongli had the pleasure of meeting him only under the most delightful circumstances it seemed. He no doubt had many feelings and more things to say about seeing someone new sitting here as the emperor than most.

The said lord of the Reng house was now giving him a fearless stare. “I’ve had the honour of serving under two emperors. My son was a high born noble with grand ideals and values, and the Rex Lapis before him was revered for not only his business sense but his mere presence that could have quieted an arguing flock of chicken. Yet our god would only grace both with his wisdom when their minds were at rest and capable of heeding his counsel. And yet you, a no name commoner with not enough ambition to his name to even better his own standing, claim to be able to connect with our ancient lord on your every whim?”

<Insolent!>

The force of the thought made Zhongli flinch and lean his elbow against the armrest, his fingers clutching against his temples.

Ganyu stood up and her fingers clenched against the table cover. “Lord Reng Yao, I will not hear you slander my lord further.”

“I think quite a few people here need to remember their manners and role,” someone else said. “You’re disgracing the council with your behaviour, in Rex Lapis’ presence!”

“I disagree. It is best not let thoughts like these fester under a lid. We have started: why not let some steam out while we’re here?”

“Are you insane?”

“No, the idea has merit. It’s not like we can change the will of the God of Contracts in any case, so it is best we share our opinions sooner, so that we may concentrate on our work again.”

Keqing’s voice Zhongli managed to recognize. “All of you need to calm down and remind yourselves of some basic decency. This is the governing council of Liyue, not a treasure hoarder gang. I’m sure you all have many opinions you want to say but we can discuss this in a manner befitting our station.”

“I’ve made my opinion clear!” lord Reng Yao now bit out in clear frustration and a chair screeched against the floor. “Any new Rex Lapis is a replacement and nothing more to me. Let alone a spineless—"

“Friend, I know you have been struggling to accept things, but you must control yourself here.”

Before the next person to join the argument could open their mouth, the room fell silent. There was a pressure in the air, like a strong wind without an actual air current or a looming thunderstorm in a sealed room. Or perhaps a more apt description would have been a heavy lid of stone about to close the opening on a casket people inside needed for air.

The air was heavy and even the lights seemed to dim as Zhongli’s fingers clenched against the armrest while he kept his head down, leaning against his other hand. Ever since the incident at the end of his captivity and his promise with Morax, Zhongli had tried not to restrict the god’s connection or push him away from himself. He fought the urge to do so now as he had to bite his teeth together to withstand the force of raw emotion that raised its head like a dragon that had been forcefully awoken from its slumber.

Morax was furious.

Chapter Text

Zhongli’s facial muscles had all tensed up and his fingers were pressing down on his temples so tightly he feared for his skull. He felt so heavy. His shoulders even hunched a little down at the weight. Were feelings always this heavy? Morax… he begged, trying his best to keep his reactions outwardly nonanimated. He rarely got angry: not in a way he showed to others at least. The god’s rage was so much more tangible and he felt it seep into his nerves, trying to get him to act on it. And he understood why, he understood, but… …Settle down.

<They have no right to speak to you like this!>

I know, but—

<Even if they had their doubts…>

Morax.

<…is this the state of basic manners the Liyue upper class has?!>

I understand: I will fix this, just—

<”Fix”? I will not have you act like you’re to blame!>

What will getting mad here solve?!

<Show them that this kind of behaviour is not tolerated!>

…

<I chose you! They do not doubt only you but my judgement directly.>

You’ve made mistakes: you’ve told me that yourself!

<Yes, I’ve erred before! And they can dislike and even voice their grievances about my choice if they wish. But I will not allow this baseless defamation in their ignorance!>

But I am—

<Not a mistake!>

“Rex Lapis?”

The eyes he had squeezed shut behind his palm flashed open, sending a shining glare from between his fingers to the people around the table. The cautious question was met with silence, when Zhongli did not dare open his mouth before he had his emotions under control. He could see the collective shiver that ran across the room. Morax’s anger was threatening break the lid he always had on his feelings, like a suitcase struggling to stay closed when too much had been stuffed inside.

Everyone in the room was waiting with bated breath for what he would do next. The looks they were giving him were so shocked. Cautious. Uncertain. Afraid.

He hated it.

Zhongli closed his eyes again and tried to take a deep breath without shivering. Please. Let me handle this.

Sensing his discomfort, Morax backed away, but did not try to mask his persisting ire. <You may. But do not let them walk over you. Or I will interfere.>

Morax.

<No. There is no reason you should let them speak of you so disrespectfully. You represent me in this world and only I can choose who has that right. While I cannot force them to like you personally, they are obligated to accept you and treat you with respect. That is in the contract I made with the people of Liyue. If you had made an error and they reprimanded you, that is one thing. But by openly criticizing you based purely on prejudice and personal bias, they are undermining the terms their ancestors have agreed to.>

Zhongli sighed. The room had fallen so silent it sounded way louder than he had intended. He raised his head and opened his eyes. They gleamed a little longer before his irises returned to normal. The pressure in the room had lifted and the lights shined normally, but everyone in the room was still following his reactions and movements without daring to blink.

Zhongli inhaled slowly, closing the lid over his emotions tighter again. He needed to act firm and sure of himself now, and stay calm. Anger was at its most dangerous when it was out of control. While he agreed with Morax somewhat that some of the people here needed reprimanding sooner rather than later for both general comfort and effectiveness, lashing out in anger at adversity was not the image Zhongli wanted for himself.

“The God of Contracts…” he started, trying not to show the remaining turmoil he was suppressing on his face or voice. With his voice at least he was failing a little, hearing it ring more hoarsely and lower than usual. “…wishes to inform you that he is displeased with the current tone of this conversation.” That was putting it mildly, considering Morax was audibly growling as he spoke, but Zhongli was fairly certain most people in the room could understand that. “Conqueror of Demons,” he continued firmly and fixed his eyes on the adeptus no one else in the room seemed to have noticed. “There will be no need for that.”

Most of the council members startled, making surprised sounds and faces when they suddenly realised the yaksha who stood in their midst. Reng Yao especially flinched away from the spear that he realised was pointed at his throat when he turned around to follow everyone’s gaze.

Xiao gritted his teeth and his expression stayed fierce. “Rex Lapis. This man needs to—"

“Sit,” Zhongli said as calmly as he could. “He needs to sit down and calm himself. Alternatively, lord Reng Yao, if you feel you cannot control your emotions and discuss things in an amicable manner, I advise you to leave for now.”

The angered noble turned back to glare at him, shaking off some of the uncertainty he had had because of the power burst that had filled the room earlier. “So, that’s it then? First you threaten me and then kick me out of the council for disagreeing with you?”

“Firstly, I’ll do no such thing.” Zhongli met the man’s gaze unable to keep a little glare out of his eyes. “You have recently lost a close family member and clearly have not had the time or chance to process your loss. This is not the right place to do so. I am giving you the opportunity to grieve properly and collect yourself before participating in the proceedings of the council. Secondly, you have not disagreed with me on anything I should address.”

“What are you talking about?” lord Reng scoffed at him and took a small step forward, ignoring the sharp point of the polearm that pressed against his back as he did. “Did I not make my disagreement clear enough for you to understand?”

Zhongli couldn’t help but admire the man’s guts to keep arguing with him like this, if only a little. “I have merely pointed out that I am able to communicate with the God of Contracts.”

“And that is exactly the claim I cannot agree with!”

“No, I am not debating right from wrong: I am simply stating a fact,” Zhongli explained patiently. “We are not discussing opinions. As such, we cannot be in disagreement. What I am doing is called sharing information. From your part, it is called wilful ignorance.”

The man’s face darkened. “’Ignorance’? Someone like you—”

“Stop,” the woman beside him spoke up and grabbed his sleeve before he could take another step and possible receive a spear wound in his back. “His majesty is giving you a chance to keep your honour. Perhaps you should take his advice and leave for today.”

“You’d let this peasant—"

“General Alatus,” Zhongli raised his voice before any blood was spilled, effectively silencing the room again. “Did I not make myself clear?”

Xiao’s grip of his polearm tightened and shook. “But—” He bit back the rest of his objection at the look Zhongli gave him and retracted his weapon, taking a few steps away from the table. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

“It’s alright. No harm was done.”

Reng Yao sent a spiteful look at the yaksha. “’Harm’? I suppose, other than the utter disrespect you now show to someone who mere months ago lived in the inner palace, adeptus. And who you then so uncourteously kicked out like none of it mattered after my son’s death.”

Xiao’s expression turned grimmer and his eyes glared up with a little power. A small artificial wind made his clothes flap slightly in warning, but he glanced towards Zhongli again and stayed put.

“I do not believe you have the right to complain about disrespect here,” lord Mung intersected, catching Reng Yao’s attention. “We were all shocked by the sudden loss of the previous divine vessel and of course you have our condolences. But do not take it out on your own son’s successor.”

“Do not act like you’re somehow better yourself,” Reng Yao spat and hit his palm against the table to lean closer to the man on the other side. “We talked of this together the moment we heard the rumour a commoner might have been chosen. Do not pretend you like this anymore than I do!”

“I will not deny my doubts, but that is why I was prepared to offer to tutor the emperor on the matters of the government when needed. I am not so foolish as to go against the decision of the God of Contracts. We only have to work with it.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Lady Xie Li Foo stood up sharply and spoke with clear disdain in her voice. She was one of the older council members, both in seniority and in years of service. “You might be less vulgar in your tongue, but are still completely distrusting of Rex Lapis’ abilities. You both should be ashamed of yourselves. To mock your own emperor directly to his face and in the presence of the illuminated guardians. My ears are losing their last will to cooperate just listening to you all.”

“Apologies, lady Foo, but facts are still facts,” lord Song huffed and crossed his arms. “We’re currently facing unprecedented situations while stuck with an inexperienced leader. You cannot deny the risk this poses to the nation.”

Keqing stood up as well. “Many people in this city have proven their worth through hard work and diligence, rising from even the lowest points to success. I personally know our new emperor to be a learnt individual, with a stable career and good reputation. Although part of our job is to support him, that is true, I see no reason to needlessly doubt his personal skills.”

“Yuheng, I know this is something you are passionate about, but even so you should realise that there is a reason the God of Contracts has not chosen people of lower standing in centuries.”

“Perhaps it’s you who should realise that there is a reason he might have finally done so,” the quartermaster of the millelith, general Fang, snapped, hitting his fist against the table cover. “You should give his majesty the chance to explain the situation before judging his actions. Like he has already offered to do if you people would shut up for a moment and stop acting like you’ve never been to a school yourselves!”

“You are not helping, do not raise your voice!”

Reng Yao hissed at the entire argument and took a step away from the table. “This whole thing is a farce! All of you—”

“SILENCE.”

Although Zhongli didn’t shout, his voice boomed somehow loud enough to drown out everything else. Inside his soul, Morax’s already tested patience was threatening to snap again and it seeped into both Zhongli’s presence and voice. Once all arguments around the table had been successfully cut off by his command, Zhongli no longer objected to a more direct approach. “Is this the state of Liyue’s highest council under pressure or disagreements?”

Li Teng gave him a stern, quiet look. “Please do not act like you have no part in this, your majesty.”

Zhongli nodded once. “It has been hard not to realise quite clearly that many of you hold doubts about my presence here.”

Reng Yao gritted his teeth, but his stance was wavering at the pressure. “You’re nothing but a—”

“Enough,” Zhongli stopped him and his eyes gleamed a little again as his gaze wandered through every individual around the table. If this situation called for a show of authority to settle, then at least he could try. He hoped he sounded natural and commanding enough as even his normal speaking tone hardened. “This topic of discussion is over. I shall now explain what has happened in this country for the past three and half weeks. Once you have a better understanding of the entire situation, I will listen to any who wish to speak and address any concerns you might have. We will speak in turn, not talk over each other and the discussion shall remain civil. This room will have order under my watch. Am I understood?” When no one said anything and a couple of nods were all the response he received, he looked to the man standing away from the table by his crooked chair. “Lord Reng Yao, are you able to comply to these terms or will you see yourself out?”

Reng Yao scoffed and turned on his heels, marching towards the door with a stride that clearly betrayed his anger. He no doubt felt humiliated. Zhongli suspected his road was long to ever earn the man’s respect.

“Do not let that commoner fool you,” the nobleman growled lowly one more time as he opened the door and looked over his shoulder. “You are not and won’t ever be an emperor of mine.”

As the door was shut, the clack loudly echoing in the room, Zhongli closed his eyes and leant back on his chair. He suddenly felt tired. He had had his cautions about seeing the council but this was far worse than he had expected. Morax had at least calmed down a little.

“Rex Lapis?” He heard Ganyu whisper next to him and opened his eyes to see the qilin stand by his chair, concerned. Xiao too had come to stand near him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Zhongli sighed, so tired of answering this particular question. He knew the adepti meant well, but getting constant reminders that he was out of his element and that it showed, was turning more and more stressful. It was like he had regressed back to his early teenaged self, once again struggling to prove himself to others. He had back then vowed to never let himself be a burden to others again. He had worked hard, helping others in turn to make up for all the time he had taken to learn, and had thought he had managed to leave that feeling behind by now. Only for Morax to enter his life and remind him just how incompetent he could be.

<…>

What?

<…Nothing. You handled that well. Perhaps more maturely than I would have.>

Zhongli corrected his posture on his seat, not wanting to stretch the silence in the room any further, gathering himself. We’ve barely cleared one hurdle. I wouldn’t celebrate just yet. “If anyone else here requires some time for themselves, you are free to leave and return at another time,” he offered and waited for a moment for someone to move. When no one did, he nodded. “Very well.”

Next to him, Ningguang hummed a little closing her eyes. She had been quiet through the worst of the argument, but watching Zhongli closely as the discussion had escalated. In the room, she seemed the least stressed about his moods. “You have every right to be upset, Rex Lapis. I assure you this is not how the council normally functions. On behalf of my colleagues, I apologise.”

“I am upset,” Zhongli admitted, keeping his voice level. “Although I expected my background to cause some discussion, I didn’t not foresee quite this much… animosity. Should I view this as an initiation test of sorts? Regardless, there is no need for you to apologise, lady Ningguang. I can understand where some of these opinions are coming from and have even harboured some doubts myself. However, I should say this,” he decided to add, frowning at some of the people around the table. “Although I am ready to earn your respect instead of simply being given it because of my status, I will not listen to any words spoken against the God of Contracts.”

<…>

The people around the table glanced at each other. Li Teng was the first to answer. “Naturally,” he promised with a controlled, emotionless voice. “I believe your majesty wished to share something with us.”

“Indeed.”

And so, he told them: recounted a short summary of the last three weeks of his life. He didn’t go into great detail. For example, he did tell them that the God of Contracts had come to him the morning after the murder and that he hadn’t been aware of it until after the Rite of Parting. He did not tell them just how much of a mess he had been when he had realised it. But about the enemies Liyue had faced, he told the council in as great a detail as he could. Although they had won a battle, there was no telling what manner of a war could they be facing following it. He explained to them how the God of Contracts had been weakened while working without a vessel and decided to hide his newest choice from the people of Liyue as well as their opponents, to both protect him and lure out the enemy, to gain more information. And he told all they knew about the battle in the Chasm: why had it come about and what had the adepti found afterwards.

“Rex Lapis, with all due respect if I may,” master Hangui spoke up when the discussion opened up to questions. “You told the adepti to start arguing with the Qixing?” When Zhongli affirmed this, he grunted and shook his head. “Your reasoning leaves me confused. What manner of a plan is ‘before my opponents can cause us trouble, we will cause trouble for ourselves’?”

“We needed to keep the situation as under our control as possible,” Zhongli explained and glanced between Ningguang, Keqing and the two adepti. “By having the adepti pretend to be at odds with the Qixing, we created chaos that we could control and use to our advantage, instead of having our enemies strike wherever they wished. By creating illusions of things they could strike against, we lured them into our line of sight, while the situation in Liyue remained in a state we could reverse and bring under our control if the situation turned dire. Although they managed to surprise us with the kidnappings, this arrangement still ended up protecting the Qixing at the end of the day.”

Ningguang smiled, a hint of smugness in the way the corner of her lips turned up. “We must indeed thank our most vigilant bodyguards. Do we not, Keqing?”

“You knew of this, lady Ningguang?”

“I figured out along the way that there was more to things, although I did not have the details. Nevertheless, it was most reassuring to realise.”

While Ningguang looked pleased with herself, Keqing was clearly and fiercely holding back something between a blush and a frown, while trying to not be obvious about how she was avoiding looking at Zhongli.

Ningguang chuckled at her colleague’s shivering a little. “I started suspecting something was up when the adepti worked so hard to protect you from getting kidnapped,” she mused behind her fingers. “Would I be correct to guess you did not realise it yourself?”

Keqing carefully cleared her throat. “I was too busy dealing with the situation to question its nature. Whether the situation was ultimately real or not, we could not let ourselves crumble under the pressure. Someone had to work to keep the city up and running. Even if the adepti decided to leave us because of Rex Lapis, our duty to Liyue is not affected.”

Zhongli chuckled. “That is true. Thank you for your hard work and diligence, Yuheng. Liyue is lucky to have someone as resilient and reliable as you here to manage things.”

Keqing sputtered a little and quickly looked at Zhongli before turning away again. “I was—! …I was merely doing my job as it is expected. I need no praise for it.”

“I disagree,” Zhongli insisted. “Hard work should always be recognized and rewarded.”

<…>

“Well, my reward is seeing things get done and the city function,” Keqing said, trying hard to hide her embarrassment. Rex Lapis of all people did not need to see it. “That is enough.”

“As you wish,” Zhongli conceded.

“Rex Lapis,” general Fang asked for his attention. “There is some information from the Chasm my colleagues wished me to bring to your attention. Would this be a good time?” Zhongli nodded an okay to continue. “You did not mention it in your summary of the events, but from what I’ve heard, your majesty aided a hallucinating soldier after the battle and managed to calm him down?”

“That is correct, indeed.”

General Fang’s bit his lips together and looked thoughtfully at a paper in front of him on the table for the moment. “The young man you healed is not the only case, your majesty. According to reports, 147 of our soldiers have been reported to suffer from hallucinations and nightmares. Some of the cases are milder and only disrupts the patient’s sleep, causing insomnia. Which is not good for a recovering body of course, but some men had to be restrained as to not hurt themselves and others.” The general paused for a moment and then looked up at Zhongli. “Adeptus Storm Chaser has told us that these are not cases of naturally induced trauma or fear, but rather something in battle that effected our soldiers and they are now suffering from its aftereffects.”

Zhongli hummed in thought, guessing what the general was meaning to ask. “He is correct. I did not as much heal the soldier than simply dispel the effects of the miasma with an opposing force.”

“General Fang, I hope you’re not about to ask his majesty to heal 147 people,” Ganyu commented before they general could continue. “Surely our healers did not give you their consent to ask this?”

“They did not. But they have mentioned asking for his majesty’s advice,” the general explained. “The adepti and human alike have been unable to treat this affliction. We have even tried hiring exorcists to aid us, but any result we manage is temporary, barely lasting an hour at most. The soldiers are unable to sleep and continuously thrash about in panic, unable to heal their wounds or fatigue. If the problem persists, we are losing lives that could have been saved. It will be only the matter of time before their minds suffer irreparable harm as well, even if they were one day healed.”

Zhongli raised his hand to his chin in thought, a frown forming on his face. Morax? Reaching out towards Morax, Zhongli couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bothering the god. It wasn’t clear, just the feeling he got. But they needed to concentrate now: whatever it was, it needed to wait.

<Healing all of them is impossible. I would be cautious about it even if we waited until after the Rite of Ascension,> Morax replied after a long, thoughtful hum.

The Rite cannot be organized for a couple more days in any case. Some of the soldiers might not have that long.

<You cannot save everyone yourself. I’ve told you this before. Do you intend to choose between the ones you save and those you abandon? I know you would not be at peace with yourself after that.>

There has to be something we can do, yes?

“This enemy we faced,” lord Mung muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, frowning. “I can understand we had to protect ourselves from a coming invasion, but if this enemy really is as potentially dangerous as I’ve come to understand, was waging war at such a strategic location truly the only option? The Chasm is our biggest mine and a huge source of income, materials and jobs. You took a heavy risk on Liyue’s economy with this stunt, Rex Lapis. Would it not have been better to lure the enemy out or seal these ‘gates’ they had made so they could not be used?”

“Our enemy likely chose the Chasm to use as their base of operations precisely because it is such financially and strategically important location,” Xiao replied, taking a step closer. After the heated-up conversation had settled, he had stayed in the room instead of making himself scarce again, standing a little behind the emperor’s chair, much to Zhongli’s surprise. “It is a natural fortress to invade. It is unlikely we would have been able to lure them out. As for sealing the gates, it would have been possible were there only few of them. With so many, even if all the adepti had worked at once, they would have noticed and opened the gates while we tried to lock them.”

“What I still cannot understand, is how causing civil disruptions on our own side was better than taking a strong public stance and facing this enemy head on,” Li Teng chided and shook his head.

“I concur,” Song huffed. “This makes us and our emperor seem weak in contrast. It is good we caught on to our enemy’s schemes, but people would surely have rallied behind you in earnest with a few passionate speeches about dangers to our homeland that we needed to face together, Rex Lapis. Rather than skulk about without even trusting the adepti with your protection enough to prevent something as embarrassing as getting kidnapped and endangering everything again. A few more lives might have been lost in the heat of battle, perhaps, but we would have sent a much clearer message that Liyue is not to be messed with.”

“We cannot know what other outcomes could have been,” Ningguang pointed out, patiently, sounding a little exasperated. “It is no use speculating of them now. In any case, a successfully thwarted invasion and a few less lives lost is good outcome, in my opinion.”

“Speaking of few less lives lost,” Zhongli joined in again, finishing his little brain storming session with Morax. “There is something I could try to aid the soldiers affected by the miasma.”

“What would you require for it, my lord?” Ganyu immediately perked up a little, eagerly.

“All the soldiers in one place,” Zhongli replied, trying to think how to make their idea work the best. “And personnel in place to help the injured. Professional exorcists. A few adepti to work as focal points…”

“You cannot heal them like you did this one mentioned person?” Lady Foo asked.

Zhongli shook his head. “No. Regret as I might to admit, I lack the power. As I am now, I could manage to purify perhaps thirty before I would need to rest for a few days again. If we waited until after the Rite of Ascension, I could perhaps do more, but the arrangements of the Rite are set to be finished four days from now. Some of the affected people may not be able to wait that long. I could potentially save the thirty who we deem to be the worst cases and hope the rest can survive until the Rite has been held. But how exactly would we deem who are the most worth saving among them while the others are left to suffer, is not a selection I wish to make.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Xiao asked.

Zhongli remembered back to the young man who had only seen the monsters he had fought coming for him even as his own father had tried to calm him down. “I will create a temporary ward to lessen the symptoms. It will not completely dispel the effects, but it will allow other healers and doctors to work on the injuries in peace and offer the soldiers a moment of respite from their nightmares. We can repeat this treatment a few times while we wait for the Rite to finally be held, to help them at least recover from their physical wounds and the worst of the fatigue. At least to buy us time until we find a better solution.”

“If I may, Rex Lapis,” Li Teng said. “Is this truly wise? Your responsibility is to all of Liyue, not a handful of soldiers. You have been unwell, no?”

The sight of the millelith gathered in the medic area after the fighting had ceased, returned to Zhongli’s mind. “As the person who instigated the battle, I see helping out in the aftermath as part of my responsibility,” he explained and closed his eyes. “All of Liyue encompasses the millelith as well and they fought as hard as the adepti to protect all of our homes. It would be a shame for the brave soldiers to succumb to some underhanded effects after they have already survived the battle itself. What’s more, they went into battle without knowing all the details and still performed valiantly. I owe them all the aid I can give.” He tried to give the council members a reassuring look. “Worry not: I promise not to overdo it again.”

Lord Song sighed and crossed his arms. “As our majesty wills it then.”

All in all, Zhongli would later describe the council meeting as tiring. Draining even. He hoped some of that would get better by time: both with him regaining more of his stamina and getting more used to his new position, as well as hopefully the council members accepting him a little better as things progressed. Most of the council was amiable and supporting, but although the arguing had ceased with his outburst, there were some who had still been very passively aggressive, doubted both his mental and physical abilities and remained sceptical of his background.

After about two hours more talking, Zhongli had reached his current physical limit and excused himself to rest. Perhaps he had tickled a mental limit as well, but those were harder to both recognize and admit. He did not wish to cancel his dinner with Ningguang, so he retired to have some peace and quiet before he’d have not only cancel their meal plan, also stumble out of the meeting room with most likely Ganyu and Xiao’s aid. Leaving an even better kind of impression as he went, no doubt…

But avoiding that outcome successfully, Zhongli left the room with his own two feet. Xiao left as well, saying that he would be back soon after arranging Zhongli some place to relax. Ganyu stayed behind to answer the remaining questions and handle any other matters with the council. There had been so many questions and things they had wanted to discuss. It had started with the question about the way things had gone, then evolved into prying about his personal matters, then all the way to his plans about foreign politics under his rule. Which Zhongli had not had any time to think about, what so ever. Was he supposed to have made comprehensive plans to deal with some trade route negotiations at this point? He had had a little something else to think about, but judging by some looks and frowns he had received, he was guessing yes.

<No,> Morax said emphatically as Zhongli sat back down into the chair in the side room he had waited in for the meeting to start. <They cannot expect that from you at this stage.>

“Some of them clearly did,” Zhongli mumbled, happy to speak aloud with Morax again. It felt more natural that way. Speaking of… “Morax, is something wrong?”

<Hm? ...Why?>

“You’ve felt a bit… subdued for a while,” Zhongli tried his best to explain. “You told me once that we could to an extent tell each other’s current feelings. I thought I could only do so when you wanted me to, but this feels different.”

Morax sighed. <Of course you would be able to… I should not be surprised at this point.>

“Is something bothering you? I could come to talk with you again later, if you’d like.”

<…> Morax had him wait for a moment before his reply. <No. You should rest. I… I need some time to think.>

Zhongli frowned, but decided not to pry, as curious as he found himself. “Alright.” Sensing a presence, he raised his head just in time to see Xiao teleport into the room in front of him. “That was fast. Welcome back,” he said, smiling a little.

“I asked Ping and Tubby to prepare something comforting in a quiet place,” Xiao reported. He then gave Zhongli surprisingly sharp look and opened his mouth to say something, before closing it again. He looked away. “I will take you back to the inner palace. You can rest there.”

Zhongli tilted his head a little. “Xiao.”

“Yes?”

“You may speak your mind.” Zhongli gave a knowing little nod at the way Xiao’s facial muscles twitched. “What is it that you want to say?”

Xiao grunted and his frown turned fierce. “Rex Lapis… Why did you let them treat you so poorly? You sent away the most egregious offender, but the rest were not much better. Their behaviour was repulsive, yet you let it happen time and time again. Even after you silenced them once, some continued to be disrespectful towards you, without any punishment. You didn’t even ask for an apology!”

Zhongli beathed out slowly through his nose. The real answer was that he was not confrontational by nature and rather dealt with things in a more civil way, with reasoning and patience. That he could perhaps explain away, but he also to an extent understood and even had not so long ago agreed with some of the arguments that had been said, so it felt wrong to strongly stand against them. That one he wasn’t sure someone like Xiao could accept.

“I simply did not want the first thing I did with the governors of Liyue be dishing out punishments or judgement,” he decided to explain. “That is not the kind of impression of a ruler I wish to make, nor the kind of ruler I wish to be. As for an apology…” He should have asked for some, but it had felt awkward. Some people had defended him against the slander, trying to get the most vocal objectors to find their manners, but only Ningguang had voiced a proper apology. And she had done nothing wrong. “I will work with these people for a long time to come. I hope that I can earn the kind of respect you wished they would show me through my actions instead.”

Xiao huffed, quietly.

“You wish I had been more austere.”

“…Yes,” Xiao admitted, half forcing his answer out, as if he was ashamed to admit it. “It was hard to simply stand there and listen to them disrespect and doubt you.”

“I understand,” Zhongli said and stood up cautiously, hoping to avoid the dizzying wave that at times struck when he was tired like this. It was true that he understood Xiao’s feelings. If he had spent hours listening to someone badmouth someone he cared about, he would definitely have been upset himself. He should check in with Ganyu later as well. “I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I won’t let them walk all over me, that I can promise. Now: would you like to join me for some tea?”

“Huh?!” Xiao accidentally reacted quite loudly in his surprise. “W… why?”

“As an apology for an unpleasant time. I was hoping to have some myself.” Zhongli offered his hand up so that Xiao could teleport them away. “Would you like to join me?”

Xiao looked at him in a way that told Zhongli he had not only not expected the offer, but was also unsure on how to answer. “I… uh… I cou—That is, if you wish for me to—”

“It is not an order. Only an offer. You’re free to refuse.”

“I’ll…” Xiao dropped his gaze to the floor. “…Pass. But… thank you,” he added, taking a hold of the offered arm.

“As you please. Should you change your mind at any time, consider the offer to still stand.”

“…I will take you back to the palace now.”

“Thank you.”

With Xiao’s refusal, his break time mostly consisted of sitting alone in a pavilion over looking the city. The tea was excellent and the atmosphere serene. Perhaps after hours of tiring talk with nothing but water to drink to take a break, this was just what his body needed. But with even Morax having retreated to contemplate something on his own, Zhongli wouldn’t have rejected some form of pleasant company. Then again, he found that listening to the voices carrying through the air from the city, almost made it feel like if he closed his eyes, he could see the streets and think he was sipping his tea at a small table in a restaurant, waiting for a storyteller to start a new tale.

A while later, Ganyu returned in a hurry, reporting to him what had happened after his departure. Nothing much, as it turned out: lots of the same talking, now with apparently less constraint again when he hadn’t been present. But after he had left, many people had taken a turn to scold the ones who had talked ill of him, chiding them for their bad behaviour. Zhongli was pleased to know some people were on his side, although Ganyu was quick to try and apologise for everything that had happened. Zhongli stopped her before she managed too many hurried lines and offered her some tea to calm down. Ganyu was almost as surprised as Xiao that he offered, but took the tea, although she seemingly found it hard to relax while drinking it.

Letting his body rest and wind down until it was time for his meeting with Ningguang, when the sun started to set, Zhongli made his way from his quarters to the lower levels of the inner palace. He was less tired now, but happy that this meeting was the last thing they had scheduled for him. Perhaps tomorrow, after a good night of sleep, he would have more energy again. Their dinner had been prepared into a smaller reservation hall. When the door was opened for him and he stepped inside, the table was already set on the slightly elevated floor by a large window, lids covering the various dishes to keep them freshly waiting for whenever they decided to start eating. Zhongli hoped it would be soon: he had eaten only some light meals and snacks during the day. A proper, warm dinner would be nice.

As he watched the beautiful orange glow hit against the rooftops and the sea at the harbour beyond the window, an adeptus walked up to him and announced that Ningguang had arrived, asking if he was ready to see her. Zhongli invited her in, but shook his head a little at the situation: to think he would have a private dinner with the Tianquan herself and she was the one waiting for his permission to enter. The absurdity of it all…

“Rex Lapis,” Ningguang greeted him with refined elegance. The highlights of her dress and the jewels in her accessories glimmered in the setting sun. “We meet again. Personally, I hope this meeting of ours is more pleasant than our earlier one today.”

Zhongli couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Likewise. I’m afraid I did not manage to make the best impression during the council.”

“Not so,” Ningguang replied, causing Zhongli to raise his eyebrows. “I must apologise to you, not behalf of my colleagues this time. I chose to remain quiet and not interfere with the racket, just to assess your character and see what you would do. I realise that left you in an uncomfortable situation to sort out on your own.”

Zhongli had wondered why the Tianquan had talked so little. “May I ask what you have assessed?”

Ningguang smiled, her eyes betraying some clear amusement. “That I am most intrigued of the years to come. Should someone next time attempt to continue with the same tone as today, I shall support you. I look forward to working with you, your majesty.”

Zhongli returned her smile and offered Ningguang his hand. Taking hold of the fingers she placed in his, Zhongli raised her hand up and dipped his head down in a show of respect, his breath briefly ghosting against her skin. “I too hope our time shall be prosperous,” he uttered from the heart and straightened to gesture towards the table to their left. “Would you join me for a meal as we plan the road ahead?”

Ningguang’s smile remained radiant. “It would be my pleasure.”

While Zhongli sat down at his end of the table and Ningguang seated herself at the other: in the place within, Morax closed his eyes and hang his foot off the wooden edge of the raised floor at the edge of abode he had made for himself. His other leg he bent to rest under the other and his hands found a comfortable position on his lap. The amiable start of the conversation, the smell and taste of the expertly cooked food, the feeling of the evening sunshine on the skin: all the things that Zhongli’s senses delivered for him to feel, he tuned out. Ningguang was a woman he had come to respect and trust as both a person and a leader. He had little doubt that her and Zhongli would find common ground and be able to work together.

Back when he had floated about as a mere wisp and a presence without a material form: enraged for the evil that had bared its fangs from the dark, saddened over the person he had had to leave behind to see the sun again, and desperate to make a decision that could possibly change the fate of his country… Back then, Ningguang had come to his mind. She would have no doubt been a strong and respected empress, who would have faced the difficulties with a level head and steadfast heart.

But listening to the Tianquan now discuss with Zhongli, Morax believed he had chosen right back then. If he had chosen Ningguang, he would have had another difficult choice to make to find as competent a Tianquan as her to take her previous post. Ningguang’s intelligence and experience were hard to replace and together with Zhongli, they would bring Liyue to new heights if given a chance. Of this, Morax was certain. Besides, Zhongli had something Ningguang did not.

That thought brought out a sigh from him. Today had made him reflect on his own conduct.

Had he been selfish?

He learnt more of his new vessel every day. What he had thought to have been the qualities Zhongli would most benefit from as an emperor, had been twisted, refined and augmented. Morax had been surprised, delighted and satisfied more times he cared to count. But to contrast that, the times Zhongli had felt unpleasant or uncomfortable about things was dawning on him. Like he had for many emperors before, he had promised to be there for this one as well and Morax thought he had understood what that entailed.

But had he truly?

He would have lied if he said it was only because of the threatening breach of the Contract or even the audacious and arrogant commentary that had made him angry. What had upset him perhaps the most, was realising how readily Zhongli accepted those words as something that was to be expected. Something he even somewhat deserved. Something he was better off not correcting. Morax had known Zhongli had the tendency to underestimate and undervalue his own importance and effort. He was especially bewildered how blind Zhongli was to his own charisma at times, (although he also found it to be a little funny, he had to admit). At the same time, Zhongli could easily see the goodness and effort of others and respected it. But in the case of himself…

How deep did it run?

And why was understanding and complementing another this hard for him when he could literally read both Zhongli’s feelings, thoughts and memories to figure out more?

Morax had thought he had been making good progress on having his vessel realise his own merits and value his own work, wellbeing and indeed life a little more. Although he still did his best and many people would not likely realise the difference, Morax could feel the nagging uneasiness that slowly wore at the souls they shared. He had to do something about it before something was irreparably damaged. Today, Morax had pushed against the boundary that he should have learnt long ago not to cross. Especially for the two of them, who were still new to each other: their union unfinished, yet bound together in a way two souls usually could not. Double especially when he should have been more mindful of the pre-existing strain in the first place.

Had he been wrong to try and stand up for his vessel?

What was he doing wrong?

Or was he, even?

Was this indeed the right path?

He had understood quickly that as long as it was within the “place” Zhongli had accepted for himself, he was much more confident and rational. As Morax now listened to the pleasant but meaningful chatter and felt the tug of Zhongli’s smile on his lips, he couldn’t help but ask himself:

What kind of “place” did he want to create?

Morax?

“Yes?” Morax asked, realising he hadn’t been listening to the conversation for the while. He’d have to dig through Zhongli’s memories to catch up.

If enough plaustrite is used, can it lift a building?

“… …I’m sorry: what?”

Perhaps he should have been more cautious about letting Zhongli and Ningguang discuss without supervision…

Chapter Text

“Was it truly that horrible of an idea?” Zhongli asked as he undressed for the night.

Morax made a dramatic sigh and shook his head. <Rather than bad, I’d call it ridiculous. How does your first meeting with the Tianquan result in an agreement to build a flying palace?>

“She told me it had been a dream of hers when we discussed our goals, and I remembered that some old adepti legends mention using plaustrite to build larger floating structures,” Zhongli explained (again), patiently, slipping out of his trousers and folding them next to his shirt. “The Mingxiao and Xiao Lanterns use smaller pieces of it, but I have not heard of anything quite as big as what Ningguang had in mind. Still, I thought it worth verifying, and you admitted it was possible in the end so I’m glad I did.”

<There is technically no weight limit, as long as there is enough plaustrite.> Morax summoned a bottle of wine for himself, not that Zhongli could see it. <You two and your lofty goals… What am I going to do with you?>

“It was worth it, if only to see her expression when I mentioned that we could make it happen,” Zhongli mused, with a little smile and slipped his hand into the silken sleeve of his night clothes. “I find the idea quite wonderful, personally. But if you do not like it, you need but say so.”

<It’s not that I dislike it, I’m just dreading what else will you come up with if this is where we’re starting.> Was he too old for this? No, he refused: new innovations were good for the country. He could appreciate youthful trends. <It will rise higher than the imperial palace.>

“Yes, I suppose it would. Is that a problem?”

<No, but I can name a few of my vessels who would have seen that as a negative.>

Zhongli frowned, tying up the few bands that held the robe closed, stepping out from behind the screen to go to bed. “Ridiculous. My apologies to the earlier emperors, but that is quite vain.”

<I can see why you’d think of it that way. You are far less concerned about your own status and the societal hierarchy than most of my vessels have been. It is not a bad thing. I’d call it refreshing even,> Morax admitted, smiling as he thought back to one of the encounters they had had today. <Many of my vessels only ever interacted more with their own families and the high society. Having spent more and more time with you, I can’t help but start longing for some strolls through the streets of the city below myself. For one thing, I should mention that you’re definitely better at dealing with children than I am.>

Zhongli breathed out a quiet laughter. “I’m afraid those kinds of walks are behind me after my new status is solidified,” he admitted, a little melancholic about it. “An emperor cannot enjoy such as a luxury as going unnoticed on the streets or having casual conversations with passers-by.”

<Why the ever not?> Morax asked, sipping some wine as Zhongli finally laid down in bed to rest after the long day. <Although some have been the types to roll up their sleeves and join the workers for some projects or picked up a weapon to train with the millelith, none of my emperors have ever tried to mingle with the people of the city in that way. As such, we have no proof it cannot be done. You’d like that, no?>

Zhongli closed his eyes and rested his arm over his forehead. “Well, yes, but—”

<In that case, there is no reason we cannot try.>

Zhongli’s lips twitched as the lively streets of Liyue, that he had often enjoyed walking through just to relax, vividly came to his mind. Could he really still do that one day, even as an emperor? Just take a casual walk down the streets and stop for a cup of tea or a chat if he so wished?

“It would be nice,” he admitted as sleep was starting to take hold.

<Then, I will support you.>

“…Thank you, Morax.”

The god smiled, making sure Zhongli could feel him doing so. <Get some sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow.>

Their next day was indeed a busy one. Zhongli was met with a little surprise the first thing in the morning, when he was getting ready for the day in his room and Ganyu came to wake him up. He had woken up early, feeling quite normal and refreshed by now. He had expected Ganyu to show up, but not the yaksha who came in after her.

“Oh. I didn’t expect to see you here,” Zhongli uttered and nodded a greeting to Menogias. “What brings you to see me?”

Menogias bowed gracefully. “You have plans that will take you outside of the palace’s barrier today. I will join my brother as your bodyguard,” he explained, but then leant a hand on his elbow while rubbing his chin, looking up and down Zhongli’s body. “But I shan’t lie: there is another reason I requested to have this duty today instead of my sisters, my lord. You will have a few public appearances today, I’ve heard. Would your majesty be willing to discuss some changes to your attire before you leave? I have prepared some options in the lounge down the hall.”

Even with Morax’s explanation that one the five foremost yaksha had indeed been a passionate clothing designer even back during the days of the Archon War, Zhongli took a while to digest the information. Menogias himself was eager to get to work and, while they fitted some attires, revealed that since most of the emperors had human servants, he had waited a long time to indulge in the chance of making clothes for his lord again. In the hands of general Kapisas, Zhongli’s clothes were upgraded to a more regal looking set. Really the only part spared were his trousers underneath, the gloves and the shoes, but judging by Menogias’s frowns, only because they did not have much time.

When Zhongli soon after re-joined Ganyu to talk about his day, his attire had changed to a much more traditional style, with layers of hanging robes, long, wide sleeves and some extra decorative slips on the front and back that dangled from his shoulders all the way past his hips. It was comfortable enough, at least as soon as he’d get more used to it. Menogias had relented on making the whole set too heavy for the sake of fashion as Zhongli needed to be able move around today. When had the yaksha had time to prepare all these clothes amidst everything, Zhongli had no idea.

Alongside Menogias, more of the adepti had returned from Chasm, to take part in the cleansing ritual for the soldiers. After the initial preparations were made and the adepti had clear instructions on what to do, Zhongli was to meet with the kidnapping victims and their families while the rest of the ritual was set up. If everything went as planned, he would then visit the detention centre by the request of the millelith. It was hard to determine when exactly the ritual could be started, so he had left some flexibility to his schedule. Transporting 147 injured and thrashing soldiers into one place was not easy, but thankfully they had all already been brought to the city. The ritual itself would take most of his day, and by the evening, if everything went well and he was still able, he would meet with Hu Tao, who had asked if she could ask some questions about the mass funerals. The last one was not mandatory, but he had found himself unable to refuse.

But first, he needed to take responsibility for failing to protect the people of Liyue. Zhongli found himself pausing, his hand hovering over the sliding door he had meant to open to go and see the victims who had gathered and waiting for him in a room nearby. After his encounter with the council yesterday, he was a little anxious about presenting himself as Rex Lapis in front of others again, needing a deep breath to steel himself. This time, if someone harboured hatred for or was displeased with him, it was justified. The kidnappees had suffered both mentally and physically because of him and their families had been worried sick in the meantime. He'd accept their disdain.

Opening the door, he suddenly remembered that he had been supposed to arrange some time to talk with Yun Jin before this, but had completely forgotten. Although not quite a friend, at least there was again someone who knew him only as Zhongli again present in this meeting. That gave him some peace of mind as he walked down the hall to Ganyu who was waiting for him outside the designated room. He could hear the people talking inside, nervously whispering to each other in anticipation of his arrival. He could only imagine what meeting with Rex Lapis like this would feel like, especially after the long period he had reportedly been missing and the multitude of disturbances while he had been hiding. He would have been quite nervous himself, but imagining himself in their shoes was a little hard now that he knew Morax.

When he came close and nodded, Ganyu turned around and grabbed the doors that led into the room, opening them for him. Menogias and Xiao were hiding close by in the case something went wrong, but from the point of view of the people inside, it was only he and Ganyu who arrived.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Liyue,” Ganyu announced his arrival with a ceremonial tone, stepping aside as the doors were opened fully and dipped her head to greet Zhongli in. “His divine majesty Rex Lapis has arrived to speak with you. Rise now to honour his presence.”

Her order for them to rise was meaningless, as there wasn’t a single person who had not stood up the instant the doors had started to open. There had been only one person missing from the list of attendees after all. Zhongli wondered what kind of an impression he made as he stepped through the doors and walked inside with slow steps. The people had all bowed or curtsied, some even knelt to the floor, but the glances that were stolen in his direction were poorly hidden. This was the first time he saw all the victims in one place. Aside from his brief encounter with the few he had met yesterday, he had dined with some these people before, only as Zhongli back then. No doubt when his identity had been revealed, those who had casually chatted with him and asked him to hand over some dishes for them back then, had had to re-evaluate that experience.

“You may rise.” Zhongli gestured with his hand for the people to raise their heads. “There is no need for strict formalities during this occasion. The people here have shared a troubling experience and we should not let our differences in status hinder getting over it together. Although my case is different, I do not wish to be completely excluded. I hope you will speak freely with me today.”

A well-dressed young man in his early twenties stepped forward to speak. “Your majesty Rex Lapis,” the young master of the Weng Liu house greeted him with practiced manners, not seemingly intimidated by his presence. Zhongli knew this man had been one of the kidnapped main targets: suspected of being the next Rex Lapis, with his name high in the betting charts. He had been the last one both found and rescued during the incident. “If we are to speak freely, may I start?” the young man now asked, meeting Zhongli’s gaze with certain determination in his eyes.

“Of course,” Zhongli encouraged.

The young noble nodded and lowered his eyes in a remorseful little bow. “I wish to apologise to you for my mother’s behaviour.” Behind him, the said master of the noble house looked shocked enough to reveal to Zhongli that she had not heard his son’s plan to speak of this. “Although I do not claim to know the entire situation, I have come to understand we were abducted by people, who searched for your majesty with ill intentions. The same people who were responsible for the death of our previous divine ruler. I also know you were indeed abducted yourself and have since worked to ensure both our safety, as well as recently succeeded in bringing those criminals to justice.”

The young man had straightened, looking him in the eyes and Zhongli hoped his own were not completely betraying how unprepared for this kind of speech he was.

“Despite going through the same kinds of hardships as us, your majesty has continued to care for our wellbeing and fight against those who threatened the safety of our nation. My mother had no place to speak to you in such a tone, for my sake or not.” He glanced over his shoulder towards his family with a harsh look. His mother looked ready to lash out to hide her embarrassment under some excuse, but her son gave her no such opportunity, returning to speak with Zhongli. “I blame you not for what happened and am indeed happy your majesty is safe. We’ve been told you plan to make your amends for us today. Although I cannot speak for all the others, for my part, I feel any compensation I require has already been met.”

“I concur, your majesty,” the master of the Feiyun Commerce Guild proclaimed loudly. “If my hardships aided in any small way in hiding your majesty’s presence from the enemies of our nation, I am proud to have been of use. You’ve already provided us ample recompense, my emperor.”

“My father speaks the truth,” Xingqiu said, stepping up to stand beside his father. “It was my liege himself who offered my friend Chongyun the tip to search for traces of abyssal energy, which led the ones who eventually saved my father to those vile lairs that snared the innocent. After realising there was truth to your words, we spared no expense to seek out the evildoers, until all of the people here were safe. Truly, it is we who should apologise to you for not being able to save you sooner.”

When Zhongli found himself too taken aback to immediately refute the last statement, Yun Jin smiled and spoke up. “Your majesty seems surprised. You were not expecting us to blame all of what has happened on you, were you?” she asked and curtsied. “I too have no intention to demand extra compensation from you. We thank you for having a safe place to recover, talk about our experiences with those who’ve been through similar fates and be with our families in this time of turmoil. Your majesty has been most hospitable.”

Zhongli was busy trying to figure out what it was that he was feeling. Relief? Embarrassment? He couldn’t pinpoint it accurately. He cleared his throat minutely to buy enough time to school his shocked expression into something more neutral. “I don’t think I’ve ever been refuted quite so boldly before even making a statement. But… thank you, for your kind words and forgiveness.”

“If I may… um, your majesty,” the mother of the three children said now, not quite as bold all the others who had spoken, but Zhongli supposed her working up the courage to speak to him at all was an improvement of sorts. “I was shocked to hear your majesty thought there was something you would personally feel the need to apologise about. My comfort or safety are nothing compared—”

“Please, do not say that,” Zhongli felt the need to stop her, which unfortunately caused her to clam up visibly. But people proclaiming they were ready to suffer or die for him was the last thing he wanted to hear. “Do not disregard your own health for my sake so easily. All life should be treated with care and respect. Now that the situation has settled, let me be clear that I wish to make certain you all can return to your lives without lingering regrets about this incident. That is why I have gathered you here today: so that all of you have a chance to speak with me directly of anything that might still trouble you. Additionally, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you: a suggestion I have revised and wish ask for your opinions on.” He felt the need to sigh at how quite a few eyes in the room bulged out of their sockets at the last statement. “There is no need to look quite so shocked: this concerns you all as well. It is only natural I’d hear your thoughts before acting.”

Knowing what he’d have to do later shadowed his mind already at the first mention of it. Having now regained some control of the situation, he gestured towards the chairs that had been set in a circle in the middle of the room, with seats for all the victims and extra seats behind the inner circle for each of their families. An almost complete circle except for the empty gaps on both sides next to the seat meant for himself. “Before we continue, shall we make ourselves more comfortable? I’ve arranged for some refreshments to be enjoyed later as well, although I must excuse myself for other duties before that. And, I should mention before I forget: the imminent threat has passed. After this meeting is adjourned, you’re all free to leave the palace or remain until the Rite of Ascension has been held, at your own discretion.”

“We can stay longer?!” one of the three children, the older boy, exclaimed, causing his mother to bury her head into her palms.

Zhongli chuckled softly. “Please, make yourselves at home. It is the least I can offer.”

He felt much lighter as the meeting progressed. Compared to the council meeting, the atmosphere was pleasant and often times the conversation could almost be called casual. It did not take long until everything had been said, much less time than he had expected, and he ended up having time to partake in the refreshments that the adepti had prepared in the adjacent room. Although when he announced he would join them, some of the atmosphere had shifted again: with some people being unsure how to handle abruptly just joining their emperor for tea, like that was something normal to do and not a huge honour reserved for few. Xingqiu turned out to be a great help in breaking the ice, starting a conversation with him and generally treating him with respect but still amiably. The young master of the noble house also took the opportunity to speak with him more, convincing his mother to formally apologise as well.

This man seems intelligent and capable, Zhongli commented, glancing at the young nobleman. Was he actually among your candidates? He would have not made a bad emperor, had you picked him, in my opinion.

<I had considered him before, yes,> Morax admitted. <But there were some candidates who I simply deemed to be too young. Su Weng Liu for instance I judged to have no clear direction set out for himself just yet, often tied to his family affairs as he has been. It is important for someone in power to have a good grasp of themselves as a person before attempting to lead others. Same goes for that young exorcist you’ve met, who was mentioned earlier.>

Chongyun?

<Yes. He too showed promise and I had thought to re-evaluate his prowess after ten years or so. Had my previous vessel been allowed to live out his full life, those two might have posed some competition to you.>

Just as Zhongli was leaving, Yun Jin requested if she would be allowed to make a short performance to commemorate the occasion and they all returned to the circle of chairs to enjoy the talents one of Liyue’s leading singers. Zhongli had to make up for the little delay by allowing the yaksha to teleport him and Ganyu to his next destination later, but that was hardly a price to pay. After causing a minor heart attack to the guards of the detention centre by appearing out of thin air, he was escorted to a room to wait for some final preparations to be made now that he had arrived.

There, Zhongli had a moment to sort out his thoughts.

The time for pleasantries had passed and he needed to do something much different. Now that it was time and there was nothing distracting his thoughts from it, the looming responsibility felt heavy on his shoulders. The millelith had requested he handle this matter soon, because of both its the scale, severity and relevance of the situation to the current affairs in Liyue. He had had a stern talking to from Morax for showing too much mercy with his decisions here, or seeming uncertain in general. While eating breakfast today, he had read through the files going over the current state of the investigation. He had not had the time to delve into all the individual details, but had read enough to come to a decision. Still, going out there to make that decision public was anxiety inducing. He had never dealt with something like this.

Suddenly, his wandering thoughts were captured by a little stack of papers that slipped from Ganyu’s fingers and fluttered to the floor.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Ganyu said quickly and crouched down to catch the escapees and add them back to the file she had been arranging.

Zhongli reached down to help her out. “You’ve been fidgeting. Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, no, it’s not— wait, your majesty, please allow me to get those.”

“Nonsense. This is nothing. Here.”

“Oh uh… thank you,” Ganyu said quietly and sheepishly took the few sheets Zhongli offered to her. Swiftly putting them back into the folder and completely dismissing the idea of arranging them like she had been, she cleared her throat. “As I was about to say: nothing is wrong. Please do not allow someone like me to cause any worries for you, Rex Lapis. Actually, I am… um… happy.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “Happy?”

Ganyu looked embarrassed and swayed a little from side to side, shyly. “Yes. The council meeting was… terrible. So, it was nice, to have people recognize all the effort you’ve put in for everyone.”

So she was bothered by the meeting yesterday, Zhongli scolded himself a little for not thinking how the adepti might feel, even if he himself had not wanted to interfere too strongly. He’d have to remind himself that with the position he held now, his decisiveness was comforting to others.

A knock on the door interrupted them before the conversation could continue. A millelith officer opened it on permission and informed him that everything was ready for his judgement. Zhongli shook other thoughts out of his mind to fully focus on his upcoming duty. One that needed to be done, no matter how much he wished he wouldn’t have been the one who needed to do this.

Judgement… Zhongli repeated the word in his head as he followed the officer down a hallway. Rex Lapis’ decree. Divine punishment. He glanced down at his hand that now held that power. Power over someone’s life and death. Although his opinion or pardon could be asked on some occasions in court, there were not many crimes in this country Rex Lapis personally was the judge of.

But one of them was treason.

The millelith he had followed stepped aside once the corridor opened to a courtyard, holding his spear in attention as Zhongli walked past. Ganyu stayed at the door in the shadows: out of sight but close enough to be on call if needed. Another millelith officer announced his arrival to all the soldiers around on the field who stood in silent attention. Zhongli kept walking and sat down on a high chair that was almost like a throne set to the low wooden platform on the courtyard. Beside the chair, stood a scribe, who would make an official record of everything that would be said.

Before him on the field, on their knees, hands tied behind their backs and heads hanging low in fear of punishment, waited a total of forty-one men and women. The treasure hoarders who had been captured during the kidnapping incident. Three of them in the frontmost row: the leaders who had colluded with the Abyss for money.

“Prisoners. You have been charged with kidnapping, violent resistance of the authorities and most importantly: attempting to capture and hand over the emperor of Liyue to the enemies of the throne,” the millelith captain read out from a paper as he stood tall in front of the group, at the edge of the raised platform. “For your treasonous acts, Rex Lapis shall now decree your punishment.”

For the following moment, the quiet rustle of the scroll the captain put away and the hollow sound of his steps on the planks were the only sounds in the courtyard. Zhongli sat still, looking over the people who’s lives he held in his hands, while everyone waited for him to speak. One order from him could have all of these people killed, right then and there.

That power terrified him.

“Your punishment…” Zhongli started, speaking clearly and loudly so that all of the treasure hoarders would hear him. He saw many of them grow stiff or shiver when his words started cutting through the air. They were scared for their lives and rightfully so. He had thought very carefully on what he wanted to say, but now that the time had come, he needed to borrow Morax’s nerves of apparent steel to not waver as he spoke. “…will be decided in court.” Before most of them could relax at escaping immediate death penalty, he continued. “However, make no mistake: there will be no regular due process. All of you are hereby, by my word, charged guilty. It is only the severity of your punishment that will be decided on an individual basis. You will be allowed to speak for yourselves, but none of you will walk away without a punishment deemed equal to your actions.”

He stood up. “Not all of you are here charged with the same crimes. I know personally there are those of you, who cannot be criminally held responsible for the collusion against the imperial rule or aiding in an attempt to assassinate your own god. However, some of you,” he said, stepping down from the platform to the gravel to stand before the three treasure hoarder leaders. “Were informedly aware of the severity of your actions. But blinded by greed you nevertheless ordered those who trusted you to commit crimes they did not fully understand. It is you three, who are now responsible for all the lives behind you. I hope the Mora you briefly held in your hands was worth all the people here, who trusted you.” Only one of these three was a man. This must have been the “big brother” he had heard about. Seeing him here did not paint the same kind of respect-worthy image he had heard about from his guards back in captivity.

He left the three behind and addressed the others. He saw quite a few shoulders and heads sink down in relief as he next formally pardoned them from the penalties of treason. This meant that based on their other actions, the most someone could be charged with in accordance to the law was a few years in prison. Most of these people would walk away after some time in civil service. The severity of their punishment would be decided based on the information from the victims themselves, on how they had been treated by their guards. Zhongli had felt bad asking the people he had met before for their aid in this endeavour, after they had so readily given him their support. It had felt like shoving the responsibility of this decision to others.

“Based on my own experience, I can provide three examples, to differentiate between the types of conduct.” In front of him now was a burly man, currently seething between his teeth, nails digging into the skin of his palms. Morax had requested he faced three of these people properly, for a sense of closure. And the god at least was satisfied seeing this man in particular face consequences. “There were those of you who were violent; even arrogant enough to disregard their orders in favour of personal enjoyment. Insults, threats, violence, denying food. Have I missed anything?”

“What the hell?” Big Shun growled between his teeth and looked up at him. “You?!”

“Mind your tone!” a guard nearby ordered and came closer. “You are speaking with Rex Lapis himself.” The only reason Shun was allowed to talk was because Zhongli had asked him a question.

“’Rex Lapis’…” Shun seethed, making no effort to comply. Spit was flying out of his mouth as he let his emotions take hold: a sight that Zhongli had seen before. “You? You’re a wimp who did nothing but cower in a corner and let me throw whatever I wished at you! You are the mighty and divine emperor?!”

With his last shout he straightened to sit more upright and leant forwards towards Zhongli, but that was the last mistake he was allowed to make. His shouting evolved into a pained grunt as Xiao smashed his head into the gravel and held him in place with an easy one wouldn’t have expected just comparing their physiques. The treasure hoarders around them flinched away, but dared not move far, as much as they wanted nothing to do with this.

Zhongli concentrated on keeping any wavering away from his expression. “Thank you, for buying my act. You were sufficiently sure of your intimidation tactics to never doubt me. And to finally provide an answer to a question you once asked me: yes. I do believe, I could win you in a fight.” He left Shun to grit his teeth against the sand, trusting Xiao and the millelith to deal with him appropriately.

He made his way a few rows down and to the right. “Then there were those of you, who only adhered to your orders.” He stopped in front of a man who was still as a rock and refused to look up at him. “A distanced attitude, fierce loyalty to those you respect and readiness to take action should the rules be broken.” There was something in the steadfastness of this mindset that could be admired, if not for the displaced loyalty. “I shall at least thank you for stopping your own teammate from tearing my arm apart.”

Zhongli could sense the sharp look that Xiao quickly sent into his direction when he said that. He was quite certain that Shun was not having a good time behind him, the hand in his hair probably gripping quite painfully. Brazem on the other hand said nothing. Did nothing. Zhongli only saw the jaw tensing as teeth were bit together. He decided to leave the man be and went on, walking just a few people down the same row.

“And then there were those of you, who actively went against your orders once you started to realise the full severity of your actions,” he said, kneeling down in front of Wo Lang who was very close to hyperventilating at the moment. “Who made an effort to make things better and attempted to atone for their crimes even at the risk to their own life. Who would even go so far as to ask me, whether the God of Contracts would hear them out, if they proved their willingness to repent. Is that not so, my helper?” he asked, having gradually lowered his voice closer to a normal talking volume.

Wo Lang seemed unable to form words, only shivering and breathing heavily as Zhongli talked. Zhongli summoned a warm wave of energy from the core of Morax’s power to hopefully reassure him. “Your plea has been heard and you’ve proven your sincerity,” he promised, letting the god’s presence wash over the people around him. Most notably, Wo Lang, whose eyes had gone wide in response. “Thank you. For guiding the adepti to me.”

“You did what?” That statement finally broke the shell that had kept Brazem quiet. Having breathed out his astonishment, he was now staring at them from the corner of his eye. Wo Lang had pressed his forehead into the ground and didn’t respond to either of them.

Zhongli stood up and reigned in Morax’s power again. He gave Wo Lang one moment longer to reply, but it did not seem possible at this time. He turned around and spoke louder again, walking briskly back through the rows of treasure hoarders towards the wooden platform. “All the ones the court rules to be charged with civil service, are to be evaluated and assigned to work on tasks befitting their skills. By the time their service is done, I want all of them in a position where they can make an effort to work to earn their living.” He stopped to look down at the three leaders, one last time. “Perhaps by then, more of them will have learnt to assess better on who to place their trust in.” He turned to look at the millelith captain still standing up by the edge of the platform. “Now then: was there something else you required of me?”

The captain hit his feet together and his fist snapped against the front of his uniform. “No, Rex Lapis. Your will has been recorded and we will see it done.”

“Good,” Zhongli replied, trying not to seem like he was in a hurry. “General Kapisas.” Menogias appeared beside him, kneeling down. “We’re leaving. Can you take me to the palace?” Zhongli looked towards Xiao as Menogias agreed and stood up. “General Alatus. I will see you and my secretary at the ritual site.”

Xiao looked up at him from the man he still held still against the ground, nodding. “Understood, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli was aware that he was being unconventional leaving in such a hurry, but now that this all was done, he needed air. Which was a weird wish, considering he was outside, but he wasn’t in the mood to question his body’s demands. It felt like something above his head was ready to snap and crash upon him.

Menogias wasn’t quite as fast as Xiao, but luckily, very soon he found himself in his bedroom, leaning against the table with both hands.

“Rex Lapis?” Menogias asked in whisper, standing beside him, his hand hovering about his shoulder, in the case he needed support.

“I am fine,” Zhongli said with a steady, almost emotionless voice and didn’t look up. “Can you check on the ritual preparations and report back to me? Take fifteen minutes or so.”

Menogias took the hint and stepped away, bowing before he disappeared. As soon as he did, Zhongli let out air from his lungs and crashed down onto his knees. He let his hands slack down and relax completely from shoulders down, resting his forehead against the edge of the table. He felt sick… He hadn’t even condemned anyone to death and yet he felt like he had played with the lives of defenceless people. They were criminals. He had only just met people who had suffered because of them. They were supposed to be punished. Some of them had committed horrible acts.

He knew this.

He knew this.

<You are kind. They will all be judged based on the laws they should not have broken. That is how a nation functions. An emperor may be merciful, but they must also be just.>

“I know… I’m fine.”

<Lie to others if it makes you feel better. But it is useless to try and lie to me.>

Zhongli closed his eyes. Breathing in and out slowly, he tried to make the tension that had been building up around his shoulders and neck dissipate.

<You did what had to be done.>

“I know…” Zhongli whispered and lifted his forehead of the table’s edge, sitting on his heels.

<I will not sugar-coat this, for your sake: this is not something you will have to do often, but know that it is part of your responsibility.>

Why did people wish for power? Why did some people want to stand above others and grind them under their heels? What drove people to play with the type of power he had lorded over those people who had feared for their lives?

<I would ask you to rest for a while, but I know that is not what you want.>

Zhongli raised his head and turned his face towards the ceiling, but he was not ready to open his eyes again yet.

<Drink some water. Take a moment to wind down. You’ve earned it.>

Zhongli bit his teeth together and his head hung back down to his chest. He clutched his fist inside his own fingers to feel a semblance clarity. He would do anything. He would do anything to ensure he would not become a ruler that people had to fear.

By the time Menogias knocked on the door, Zhongli had gathered himself again. Morax was a strict teacher with things like this, expecting him to find his own way forward, rather than simply showing him answers or laying an even path through his inner turmoil. Zhongli knew he could have done that: be the one to tell him to calm down and his body would listen and react accordingly. Morax referred to that as artificial growth that held no deeper meaning. Like claiming to be able to jump a fence that someone had lowered for you before you even tried. Zhongli would need to learn how to scramble his way over on his own, if he truly wanted to get anywhere. And he wanted to be able to do so: feel like he had the means to stand on his own, even if he had to hide some scrabes from the fences along the way underneath his clothes. Morax knew that too.

“Everything is ready, my lord,” Ganyu told him when he and Menogias re-joined with the adepti outside the large assembly hall that had been chosen for the ritual.

“I do not mean to doubt you, my lord,” Storm Chaser felt the need to say, when Zhongli moved to enter the hall. “But if you at any point feel anything unusual, know that I am close by. Please do not hesitate to ask for me.”

“I know. Don’t worry, with the adepti helping, this should not cause any issues.” Zhongli nodded to the healer. “That is why we chose this method.”

“The exorcists are in place and have their orders,” Moon Carver said, walking to stand beside him. “Once our ward lessens the miasma’s effects, they will entrap any demon or spirit that tries to enter or exit, lured by congregation of power.”

Xiao huffed and crossed his arms. “If only more of the adepti could have been summoned, we wouldn’t have needed to find such a large rotation of exorcists to work full hours.”

“Complaints like that are uncouth of you, Conqueror of Demons,” Cloud Retainer lectured, stretching her wings in preparation off the event. “You know well the importance of the tasks distributed to our comrades. The entirety of Liyue needs to be combed through for those pesky gateways before our enemies find a way to build another nest of them somewhere. One would also personally have preferred to keep working on investigating the devices we’ve gathered from the enemy hideout. But far be it from one to refuse summons from Rex Lapis himself.”

Zhongli smiled to the crane adeptus a little. “You are skilled at creating seals, no? It is your attention to detail that I seek at this moment, so that you might find any deficiencies in our work before they pose a problem.”

Cloud Retainer huffed loudly and raised her beak higher, proudly. “My lord need not lavish this one with praise. One shall do one’s duty. And one shall do it without errors.”

“I do think you appreciate the recognition more than you say, old friend,” Madame Ping chided, with a warm, teasing tone.

Zhongli listened to the adepti banter with each other on the background as he opened the doors to the assembly hall. The sounds that had been blocked by the barrier in the door exploded around him. Cries. Wails. Begging. A mixture of pain and fear that filled the room to its every corner. The smells hit him next. Medicine. Sweat. Blood. And something viscous in the air that lingered like smoke now that all of these people had gathered. Miasma. Poison of the mind that tormented every single soul trapped onto the beds that had been brought inside. Zhongli applauded the nerves and professionalism of the dozens of doctors, healers and nurses who had spread around to tend to them. When Zhongli and the adepti would make the protection ward to protect the soldiers from themselves, it would be the job of these people to work on healing the injuries and fighting infections while they could without hindrances.

“Your majesty,” doctor Baizhu greeted him, walking through the rows of people to meet him. “Ah, finally you’re here, if you will allow me to say so. Everything has been set as you have ordered. I hope we can work together to aid these poor souls.”

A white snake peeked out from under his collar where she had hid her head. “Hmh! Anything to lower the level of this racket.”

“My apologies for her manners,” Baizhu offered with nod as they walked towards the centre. “I’m afraid being exposed to loud noises makes her snippier than usual.”

“Then let us work on that, shall we,” Zhongli replied, but there was little room in this hall for light-hearted talk.

In the middle of everything, four small incense burners had been set evenly like corners of a square, and there inside the illusion of a shape they made, he stopped. Inside this little square is where he would stay for the rest of the day if things went well. He had made a point to not eat much during the day, so that no biological interruption would interfere. Sustaining himself with Morax’s power would have to do. Tugging his gloves off and handing them to Storm Chaser for safe keeping, Zhongli relaxed his shoulders and gave them the signal to proceed. After lighting the incense inside the burners, Baizhu and Storm Chaser bowed and stepped away, giving Zhongli more space. The adepti had spread around the hall near its edges, waiting silently for him to begin. From here, he could see all of them in straight lines between the beds that had been placed in a way nothing would obstruct the power flow between him and the adepti. All the humans in the room plus the two present adeptus healers, also stood between the beds in places that wouldn’t interrupt the ritual.

Zhongli took a deep, slow breath, breathing in the smoke of the incense and let his eyes close. The adepti and the exorcists could produce the same effect as what Morax had come up with, but they needed a way to make it last longer. That is where he would come in. The sounds of the hall dimmed in his ears as he raised his hands before his chest in a position to pray, his fingertips hovering close enough to each other he could feel the heat radiating between them. He felt his hair, sleeves and the hanging strips of cloth on his shoulders move about and rise up as if suddenly less affected by gravity. Underneath his feet, though he could not see it, he knew that a rectangular spiral had appeared, making the gems inlaid into the incense burners shine as the lines of light ran underneath them. From there, his power connected him to each of the adepti and the air in the room was filled with a mist of gold as each of them responded to his call.

Zhongli felt weightless, as if he was hovering above the ground. Maybe he was. His mind was racing from one person in the room to the next, like a little wisp hopping from shoulder to shoulder to touch everyone it saw, be it a doctor stitching up a wound, a nurse mixing the medicine to fend the infection or a soldier who had stopped moving and stared at his wisp form with wide eyes, before they were willed to close by the mist. The doors and windows to the room had been closed, the millelith and the yaksha guarding all entrances. Everything that could possibly be needed for the duration of day, had been placed inside, so that the cleansing would not be disturbed. All the demons and nightmares hiding inside the miasma had been trapped: squished into tiny spaces and denied freedom. Their hold on the people they had affected could not so easily be undone, but to the soldiers in question their presence was now more akin to candle fire tickling their skin, instead of a bed made of hot coals and soot that stuck onto the skin.

The world moved slower and quicker at the same time. Zhongli lost the sense of the passage of time. The world outside their seal ceased to exist for a duration unknown to him. Every movement in the room he was aware of, as if the mist itself was a part of him and telling him what passed its blooms. It was a harmony of movement and sound, a living part of himself, and it wasn’t until there was a hint of discord within, a note out of place in a familiar melody, that he became aware of his own body again.

<Enough.> Morax’s order was clear and concise: there was no questioning its cause.

Zhongli let himself return. The adepti sensed the change and let their power fade as well. The golden light on the floor faded and the mist dispersed.

Zhongli breathed in slowly, relaxing his hands and letting them fall. It was a weird feeling to stand on his own two feet again and open his eyes to see the room from his own perspective. “How long was that?” The incense had stopped burning.

“Seven and half hours, my lord,” Storm Chaser replied, appearing beside him immediately. “Longer than what we calculated. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Zhongli admitted, with a little groan.

The healer raised his eyebrows in surprise at the answer, but it changed into a small laugh, with a hint of relief. “An easy fix then.”

“How are the soldiers?” Zhongli asked and looked around. The room was quiet, with most of the patients asleep, taken by exhaustion when nothing had hindered them.

“Much better now than this morning,” doctor Baizhu reported, seemingly tired himself, but soldiering on. He went on to give Zhongli a report on the situation. Though a lot had been done, a lot also remained unfinished. But for now, the men were at rest and able to heal. The effects of the ward would fade in time, worsening their blight again come morning, but all of them had gained a moment of respite, easing the overall strain as well.

“Then we will repeat this, if necessary,” Zhongli declared, massaging his stiff neck with his fingers.

And so they did.

It became his routine for the next two days: for the morning hours, he would work on the preparations for the Rite of Ascension or meet the members of the Qixing or the city council on some other specific affairs that needed his attention. Then for most of the afternoon and evening, he worked together with the adepti on the ward that protected the soldiers, managing seven to eight hours each time, before Morax would order him to stop. For the evening, he would eat and rest, meeting up with Hu Tao to talk about the funeral rites or with Ningguang to discuss some matters that have been left on the wayside in favour of him concentrating on helping out the soldiers. In the meantime, the adepti worked in the Chasm and across Liyue to investigate and learn more of the enemies they had chased away, and the citizens of Liyue prepared the city and themselves to finally officially welcome their new emperor and witness his ascension to godhood.

With a good night’s rest in between each ritual, Zhongli felt surprisingly alright. Him and Morax (and honestly the adepti as it was hard not to notice) had been somewhat worried it would start to take a toll on him, but they had always stopped before a pang of strain could take over. After the first two times, it became apparent that this repeated form of treatment was loosening the grasp of miasma on most soldiers, increasing their resistance to its effects and weakening the overall concentration. On the third time, they could not only dismiss a few of the adepti to work on other things (Cloud Retainer for instance), but also discharge around two dozen of the soldiers themselves, who had recovered enough to heal normally. This freed up space and personnel for the medical staff as well. Zhongli calculated that after the Rite of Ascension, he could heal the rest of soldiers now that the effects of the miasma had lessened. The adepti and the exorcist techniques were also increasing in effect.

But all of that was for later. Because now, it was the fourth day since his meeting with the city council. The adepti had gathered in the city and the palace, putting a hold on their other duties. The Qixing were putting on their best, readying themselves for the day of ceremony. The Yiyan Temple and Yujing Terrace had been decorated and a stage and altar built under the steps that now blocked the public’s entrance to the temple of the God of Contracts. The people were already gathering in excitement for the sun to reach its zenith.

For the Rite of Ascension to begin.

Chapter Text

“Good mo—oh,” Ganyu’s practiced greeting changed into a clumsily uttered surprise when she noticed that despite her earlier than usual arrival, Rex Lapis had already risen from bed. He was fully clad even, if only in pair of simple trousers and one of his collared shirts but still: it was barely sunrise. When given a permission to enter after her knock, Ganyu had expected to see him in bed still. “You’re awake.” A rather crude observation to point out from her part. The day had barely begun and Ganyu already wanted to crawl into a hole…

Rex Lapis turned away from his spot by the window where he had been gazing over the sunrise colouring his city. “I found it difficult to not be somewhat restless in my anticipation. Good morning, Ms. Ganyu,” he offered a proper greeting with a little respectful nod.

“Ah, yes.” Ganyu cleared her throat and tried again. “Good morning, Rex Lapis.” There. All that practice was paying off. Although there she was a little inconsistent in the delivery of certain syllables to keep the quality up to the expected standard, not to mention she had obviously messed up the first attempt. Clearly, more practice couldn’t hurt. “You did get some rest at least, didn’t you? We have a long day ahead of us: it wouldn’t be good if you ran out of energy in the middle of it. Has yesterday’s ritual left you weary at all?”

“Not to worry. I did get some sleep,” Rex Lapis replied and walked over to her. Ganyu was glad to see his demeanour lacked hints of both tiredness or nervousness, despite his claimed anticipation of the day’s events. “And no, there has been no backlash. Any previous instance of strain seems to have also fully dissipated. You need not be scheduling as many breaks for me, from now on. Although, I should thank you for your careful consideration in regards to my wellbeing thus far.”

“It was nothing special, just doing my duty,” Ganyu assured, inwardly gleaming with a mixture of joy and embarrassment. Rex Lapis had made a point of offering feedback and even thanking her for her work during the few days she had embraced her secretary duties with their newest emperor. She was really only doing what was to be expected, so she knew he would eventually start raising his requirements and she’d have to work harder to earn his lord’s respect. She suspected this was part of his process to grow more comfortable in his new role. For now, Ganyu couldn’t help but feel a little happy every time he thanked her. “Are you ready to start your day then, my lord?”

Rex Lapis breathed out a short laugh. “As ready as I will ever be, I suspect. What will you have me start with?” He glanced down at his unbuttoned sleeves. “I guessed my clothing for today is under some heavier than usual scrutiny so I didn’t bother donning any of the sets I had on hand.”

Ganyu chuckled quietly. The very thought of the expression Menogias would have if their lord had insisted on only using his civilian attire for the ceremony painted a funny picture in her mind. “A cleansing bath and some nail, skin and hair treatments are on your list, aside from unleashing general Kapisas for the day. Some other adepti are waiting outside to help you get ready and the main bath has been prepared for whenever you want to begin. Would you like to eat breakfast before or after the cosmetic treatments?”

“Oh dear…” Rex Lapis mumbled under his breath, looking like he was only just realising what he was getting into. “Perhaps a bath before breakfast then. It sounds like it’ll… work up my appetite. I’m guessing Ping has prepared a whole assortment of bathing salts for me to choose from as well?”

Ganyu felt like she’d take while to get used to how casually this Rex Lapis seemed to bring up various details about the adepti, like it was standard knowledge for the emperors. “Indeed, she has. Shall we get started before she lists out more?” She hid her surprise under the guise of work. Sure, all of the emperors could know these kinds of facts if they stopped to ponder about it for a time, but this kind of spontaneous interaction was not something the adepti often got to do with their lord these days. In fact, she was hard pressed to remember when would’ve been the last time. The 12^th Rex Lapis perhaps? She had been very attuned with lord Morax as well, and more of the talkative sort. Ganyu had never quite felt at home at social gatherings with many people, so despite her majesty’s casual quips with the adepti at times, she had not often been on the receiving end of it.

Ganyu shook these thoughts out of her head. She had work to do and no time to dawdle about in her memories. This Rex Lapis was all she needed to think about at the moment, because today was his big day. Ganyu admitted being a little nervous herself, mostly from the excitement of experiencing his ascension at last, already anticipating the feeling of relief that would come from knowing their lord would be much safer now. But a small portion of it was anxiety that the people would have something against his lord, because of everything that had happened. She had reasoned with herself multiple times that it wasn’t the citizens who had voiced complaints and they were in fact excited for the day as well. But the memories of the past few weeks kept coming back: all the uncertainty of not knowing, the adversity towards their god and the horrible ways people had talked about Rex Lapis despite of him doing his best. Their unknown enemies with abyssal origins and their treasure hoarder accomplices aside, the people who were supposed to have supported her lord in earnest, had instead reminded her of the uglier side of humanity that she had never come to understand.

Ganyu shook her head (again), catching herself drifting back towards the negative thoughts. She wanted to make sure Rex Lapis understood that the adepti would be by his side and support him, no matter what. She knew that it was only required in their contract to show up at times of emergency if they so wished, but after everything lord Morax had done, abandoning someone he had chosen to entrust everything to was unthinkable. Not that the adepti would ever bring that detail up with their lord. Ganyu was still uncertain if lord Morax was in fact aware that the adepti knew of the underlying reasons for his decision to abandon his material form. But whether he was aware or not, it made no difference from the adepti’s point of view. Their allegiance was clear. And it wasn’t an easy to topic to bring up to begin with.

Shaking her head again, Ganyu finally focused on her work. The best way she could communicate to Rex Lapis their support (without embarrassing herself), was to do her best getting his day ready, so that he’d have nothing to worry about. There were many little things that needed to be checked and done still for the day to be absolutely perfect. She’d accept nothing less.

While Ganyu was busy making sure everything would go smoothly today, Zhongli was busy getting used to having so many attendants. He didn’t think anyone had helped him bathe ever since he was a child. But now, he had an adeptus running lotion-coated fingers through his hair to make sure not a single strand was neglected, while another was scrubbing his bicep with some kind of a mineral infused soap that left his skin feeling cleaner than he knew to have been possible. He supposed this was called a cleansing bath for a reason. The adeptus working on his skin was currently showing him how to do it himself, because Zhongli had refused a full-body treatment from someone else.

The third level’s main bath could have been its own public bathhouse for dozens of people. Technically required, if the emperor had a big family or circle of friends they’d allow to live on this level of the palace with them. It housed pools both indoors and outdoors, of varying sizes and uses, as well as showers, massage stones and tables, and a heat area where a pyro-infused stone made the whole room warm like sand at a beach on a sunny summer day. The pyro stone was then used to heat up water into clouds of steam that made Zhongli feel like he was in a cooking pot and wonder if it was healthy to sweat this much. It was apparently some Snezhnayan invention a Rex Lapis some generations back had taken a liking to and had built in the palace, but Zhongli had never heard of it before. He didn’t dislike it: it did make him feel very refreshed, especially after taking a dip in cold water afterwards. But it was definitely new and unexpected.

With his skin and hair thoroughly rinsed and cleaned (then dried and treated with oils and lotions, some of which were then rinsed again or massaged into his muscles or scalp so meticulously not an inch was left unattended), Zhongli put on a white, plain robe and was guided to one of the bigger dining rooms for breakfast. He couldn’t deny feeling more refreshed than ever, but also: this felt like a lot. And Morax was making fun of him being so bothered about being served again. In good spirit, of course, and the god’s constant lectures about the history or origins of this or that being used or done to him was definitely making Zhongli relax a bit more. It also made it feel like he was dining with someone else and not in fact sitting alone at a bigger than necessary table. At least this all wouldn’t be a common occurrence: he understood the need for special circumstances. It wasn’t everyday a human needed to physically change their basic biological composition in a divine ritual to become able to use the powers of a god.

<You’re making it sound like some manner of a crazy experiment. It is nothing that grand.>

Zhongli resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How is it not “that grand”, exactly? Am I not being infused with divine energy on a cellular level? And gaining dragonic features in a process? he made a counterargument, pouring himself another cup of tea.

<Yes, but it is not as gruesome as you somehow seem to think,> Morax replied, while sending him a mental image encouraging him to taste some of the small rice pastries that the god himself was interested in. <The process is painless for you, nor does it take too long. Whichever features from my form you’ll inherit, they will be yours to use for the times you might need a more ready access to my power. Otherwise, you need not worry about them.>

There isn’t a chance of me turning fully into a dragon, yes? Zhongli had to make sure, despite there being no previous records of that happening. He decided to treat Morax to some pastries, eating some. They were quite delicious: was that fried lotus root with sweet flower seeds in the middle?

Morax shook his head. <That would require quite a bit more from both of us than even this ritual can offer. I hope there never is a need for us to take as drastic measures as that.>

Zhongli accepted the answer, although it still was the moment he dreaded the most. He reminded himself that most emperors had only gotten scales on their arms and face, grown taller, gained longer hair or gotten more muscular. He could live with those. He tried to put his insisting worries about the subject behind himself, but later, when Menogias showed of the ceremonial attires they had laid out for him to choose from, they came back full force when the yaksha explained why all of the options had a feature that did not inspire confidence. Something apparently added after an awkward situation during one Rite of Ascension in the past, which was not in the history books.

“A tail”, Morax? Zhongli confirmed slowly.

Morax shrugged. <It has happened once. Since then, we’ve made sure to add a gap to the backside, so that the clothing won’t get torn again. Don’t worry, it is not visible from under the other layers.>

You are not helping… Zhongli sighed, trying to concentrate on choosing which of the sets of clothing he liked the best. It was not like he could escape this.

<I am not in charge of what features you’ll manifest, so I cannot make any promises. But even with that accident in the past, it is not public history because we managed to make certain no one noticed. My vessel back then only needed to be careful about moving around too much and make sure to face forwards until we could fix it. Now that this augmentation to the clothing has been made, there should be no risk of you running into a similar situation.>

“What do you think of this one?” Menogias interrupted their mental talking before Zhongli could form a counterargument. But he made a mental note to talk with Morax later if the dragonic manifestations got out of hand. Menogias raised hanging fabrics up for him to see. “Personally, I think this to be one of the finer cuts to utilize for the outer coat and the material choice compliments that. The fabrics flow about like water while moving.”

“It is quite beautiful, but I do not see myself wearing it,” Zhongli commented. He was currently inspecting an attire with lots of red and golden highlights and prints of Liyuan valleys. Definitely on the gaudier and flashier side of things, but undeniably a gorgeous showing of craftsmanship. He had been warned that Menogias could get rather lost in the beauty of designs and forgo practicality when excited. Although, he could not deny it was impressive that the adepti had managed to prepare this many choices within a couple of weeks and without Zhongli’s official measurements, which Menogias had only asked to take two days ago. He was certain some adepti powers were at work here to produce clothes at this speed. “Perhaps something a little more subdued?”

They landed on a set that only added some more blacks and yellows to Zhongli’s usual preferences of colour. Despite Menogias insisting it wasn’t his finest work, the entire thing flowed smoothly and beautifully around as Zhongli tested it out. Without being too cumbersome to wear. It was simple at a glance, but featured many details at the second. Dragons were the usual motif for the emperor of Liyue, and this imperial gown sported yellow and golden dragons in its sleeves as well. To raise the clothes to ceremonial status, many of its edges were lined with fur from black foxes.

“My lord, would I be permitted a question?” Menogias asked suddenly, while adding some finishing touches to make the attire fit perfectly. “A more personal one in nature, if you will.”

Zhongli glanced minutely in the yaksha’s direction, as much as he could after being asked not to move around while they finished. “Asking itself is rarely harmful, but the answer I will only provide if I can.”

Menogias nodded, kneeling down to adjust the length of the hem. “Whether or not you wish to answer, I shall accept it. There has been something I’ve been wondering for a couple of days.”

“And what might that be?”

Menogias looked thoughtful for the moment. “It is my job to ensure your safety and help eliminate and deal with things that might obstruct your path. This is not only limited to threats on your life, although the recent affairs have mostly kept it that way. For this reason, it is important for myself, as well as my brothers and sisters, to understand what might cause you distress, even at times when words cannot be used,” he outlined his upcoming question carefully. “Regarding this, I’ve found myself at an impasse. After our visit to the detention centre a couple of days ago, my lord seemed… unwell.” He paused the work he was doing with his hands and looked up at Rex Lapis who had turned a little more towards him now that the nature of his question was out. “Try as I might, I haven’t been able to pinpoint an exact reason why.”

Zhongli opened his mouth a little, then closed it and looked away thinking on what to answer. Menogias waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. “Hm…” Zhongli said finally, looking at the floor, like he was memorizing all the shades of the wood. “I don’t think it is something one such as yourself would understand,” he admitted, unsure how to go about explaining it.

“I am willing to try, my lord,” Menogias promised and raised the fabric in his fingers again to continue his work and release his lord from his stare. “Had you dealt out harsher punishments to those people, I would have better understood your reaction. But my lord was merciful. Forgive my lack of understanding, but I could not figure out a reason as to why it would affect you so strongly.”

Zhongli closed his eyes briefly and frowned, deciding that being open about this was perhaps for the best. Menogias had explained that the reasons for his curiosity weren’t purely that, after all. “It’s because I’ve been in that position myself.” Feeling the yaksha’s hands still again, he looked down to meet the confused look the adeptus couldn’t hide. “Entirely at someone else’s mercy, without knowing what they would decide to do to myself or the person next to me. Whether to expect pain, death or humiliation, but knowing there was nothing to be done but accept it.” He sighed, thinking back to the kneeling forms of the treasure hoarders. “At the detention centre, I realised I was that oppressor for someone else. It might not have been my intention to be cruel, but they had no way of knowing that. It was an unpleasant realisation.” Zhongli shook his head. “But I do not expect this type of distress to be addressed on any future occasions. You are a warrior, who has seen millennia of wars and calamities and been in your share of situations where this type of thinking is nothing but a weakness. It is natural that you’d find something like this hard to comprehend.”

Menogias lowered his eyes and let the conversation wane as he finished his work with the hem. Zhongli did not attempt to continue either, expecting the topic to be done. But when the yaksha was done and stood up again, he unexpectedly continued.

“I believe I understand,” Menogias said, looking at how his lord’s eyebrows rose a little. “There are quite a few people I’ve met, who would have felt empowered when such roles are reversed, upon obtaining a chance to taste the power on the other side. And many who I’ve seen embrace that type of power over another without questioning it. You are not like those people. Your majesty is kind. A trait I’m afraid is easily lost to many in my line of work, if the situation turns dire. But not at all a trait I cannot respect.” He looked around the outfitted ceremonial gown, pleased with how well it suited the man in front of him. Satisfied with his work, he took a step back and bowed. “Should you find yourself in a distressful situation again, call for me. I will arrange you some time alone.”

Zhongli felt like a simultaneous heaviness and lightness were warring for dominance inside him for a moment, before he soon felt the tempest subside with Morax’s intervention, calming him down. “Thank you,” he said, a little sombre in tone but sincere. He turned his hands to admire the intricate press and needle work of the sleeves. Raising his voice back to a normal speaking volume, he changed the topic. “Where am I required next?”

“Follow me,” Menogias offered and walked to open the door for him. “My sisters have reserved the right to do your hair and there are some items you must peruse before the ceremony.”

It was around nine in the morning as they walked towards their next destination. Zhongli found it hard to believe that in about three hours, he would stand in front of the people of Liyue and at last complete the union of two souls that had been hanging unfinished in his core for a month now. In just a few short hours, he would be officially recognized as the sovereign and god of Liyue. Even as he walked down the hallways of the imperial palace, guided by adepti and dressed in clothes he did not think he’d have the money to buy even with all his savings: it did not feel real.

But Morax was definitely real. The god’s own excitement, expectation and pride were not things he could dispute as they strongly emanated from the other soul within him.

“Rex Lapis!” Indarias shouted happily and hopped up from where she had been lounging at the table, impatiently waiting but now instantly full of energy.

Menogias stopped his sister’s eager approach before she reached Zhongli. “If you ruin his clothes, I will end you.”

“Don’t be silly, brother.” Indarias pushed her Menogias’s hand aside to stand before Zhongli. “Long time no see, your majesty. We have returned. I see brother Menogias has outdone himself with your outfit while we were gone,” she added, admiring the clothes with a smile.

“Hmh,” Bosacius huffed in the background. “And yet it still is as inconvenient to wear as they always are.” He uncrossed his arms to greet Zhongli. “My lord.”

“I will not hear another argument about my designs from a person who to this day refuses to wear a shirt,” Menogias said pointedly, walking up to his brother while the female yakshas took Zhongli under their care.

“Good morning, Rex Lapis,” Bonanus wished softly as well and gestured him to come sit on a chair that was waiting beside a round table near the middle of the room. “This way.”

Zhongli seated himself on the chair, cautious of his clothes getting caught on something. Bonanus helped him guide the fabric to rest out of their way so they didn’t need to fear Menogias’s wrath for walking over a hem. Meanwhile, Indarias hummed to herself and collected his hair over the back of the chair. On the table, Zhongli saw a collection of tools and substances for hair and makeup and mentally prepared himself to sit here for a while. He wasn’t the biggest consumer of these types of products, and heavens forbid he’d ever let Hu Tao do anything to his face again. That was a mistake one only needed to do once.

“Hm, it’s still a little damp from the bath,” Indarias mused as she ran her fingers down his hair, combing out the biggest knots. Zhongli felt her hands warm up a little as she patted his shorter hair into some semblance of order before grabbing the comb Bonanus handed to her. “We’ll leave it open, but you won’t say no to some accessories, right, Rex Lapis?”

“Is there anything you’d prefer or want to avoid for makeup?” Bonanus asked to the same heartbeat, going over their option on the table.

<You don’t have to indulge them you know.>

 Zhongli huffed, half amused, half exasperated. “As long as it’s nothing too extravagant or flashy, I will trust your judgement.”

“While they do their thing, is there anything you’d like to ask about the ceremony, my lord?” Bosacius asked, coming to stand before him at a safe distance to not get in his sisters’ way. “Everything has been set as per the Contract, so I trust you to know what to expect. But I will walk you through the process if you wish.”

Zhongli was about to nod, but Bonanus was lightning fast in placing her fingers under his chin to keep him still so he grumbled a closed mouth affirmative instead. He listened to Bosacius and Menogias go through all the requirements and steps, while Indarias and Bonanus finalized his look for the day. The yaksha of mountains sewing his clothes was one thing, but never in his life would he have expected to have two other of the highest military generals of Liyue discuss what hair pins best complimented his clothing or what colour of eyeliner to use. He wasn’t sure about the orange they landed on but he had promised to trust their judgement so he didn’t complain.

Just as he was offered a mirror to judge the outcome, the door to the room opened and Xiao walked in, carrying in his arms a large tray covered with a heavy burgundy cloth. Bosacius marched over to his brother as soon as he came in and took the object himself (which looked a lot smaller in his arms than Xiao’s), while Xiao folded the cloth away. Zhongli quickly okayed Indarias’s work on styling his hair and her choice of the hair pin that now crowned the side of his head with a trail of silk flower leaves. And honestly the orange looked fairly good at the corner of his eyes. But then he gave his full attention to objects presented to him, standing up to see them before Bosacius could kneel to the level of his chair.

On the tray, side by side, rested an old and rusting one-handed sword and a brown stone contraption that looked like a large version of a puzzle he had seen children play with. The sword was rusted and would likely snap if it hit against something. Its handle was wrapped in a fraying cloth that barely held itself together. The puzzle in the meantime was nothing but smooth, intertwining pieces of evenly coloured stone and seemed to lack any texture or flair.

The symbols of strength and wisdom.

He had seen glimpses of them from afar and pictures depicting them in books. Of course, he technically knew all about them through Morax, but the god was again restricting knowledge from him so that he could have new experiences and form his own opinions. With the death of an emperor, these two artefacts would always materialize back on their respective pedestals in the throne room, guarded by a seal that prevented anyone from taking the precious items far away from their perches, thus preventing any attempts to rob them. Only the adepti or Rex Lapis themself could take them when they were in place.

“It is customary for Rex Lapis to get acquainted with the artefacts before the Rite of Ascension, so that you have an inkling of what will happen once you call upon them during it,” Bosacius explained just in case, and lowered the two artefacts more so that Zhongli could freely inspect them.

Zhongli reached out his fingers and graced them against the cool, smooth surface of the stone dumbbell, only to realise it had carvings invisible to the naked eye. In response to his touch, the artefact gleamed to life, a dim light appearing from its depths and spreading along its parts, making the once dull looking object look much more detailed and vibrant. Still, it was a weak response: he could not yet wield this artefact properly, not while the Rite remained unheld. He hadn’t expected a reaction at all to be honest, so watching the item shine in weak golden light was mesmerizing.

<My vessels usually respond more strongly to one or the other. People have through time taken it to be an indication of what kind of a ruler they will be: one ruling with strength, directness and fortitude or one ruling by mind, subtlety and cunning,> Morax explained, sounding a little melancholic. <There is no scientific basis to that claim, but I have no explanation to offer myself. Although they usually naturally gravitate towards using one more than the other, all of my vessels can wield both in any case, so any possible difference is subtle.>

Zhongli retracted his hand and the stone dumbbell’s shine started to wane. Mind, he turned his eyes towards the sword. Strength…

“There is also this, my lord,” Bonanus said, catching his attention. She had a little lacquered box in her hand and now lifted the lid, revealing a small, orange pearl that sat inside on a lone cushion.

This time, Morax immediately provided him with information as to what this was. Or well: sort of. It was a simple amber gem that held no power. A keepsake of some kind that Morax considered to be one of his most important possessions. But when Zhongli inquired about it more, the god only asked him to take care of it.

“Each emperor has carried it differently,” Bonanus provided some further explanation and offered the little box towards him. “It is small so no one has ever noticed that each emperor carries it on their person. It has been inlaid in rings and necklaces, and sewn onto clothes or hair pieces. Some have attached it to weapons or other items they often carried with them. The last…” she trailed off and sad expression flashed in her eyes before she managed to finish. “The last Rex Lapis did not have this on him, when he was taken. If he had worn it, it could have been lost with his body.”

<The gem is tethered to me. I can call upon it from across the world or from the depths of the ocean and it will return to me. But I cannot call it across dimensions that are not of my own creation. Please, do not lose it.>

“Where would you like to carry this, your majesty?” Indarias inquired, studying Zhongli’s expressions, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

Zhongli supported his elbow on his hand and raised the other hover about his mouth, contemplating this mysterious item Morax refused to divulge further information about. He knew he could trust him of course, and if it was truly so important, he’d have to handle it with care. But where…?

“Can it be made into an earring?” he asked, on whim more than anything, not being able to think of many things he’d carry often. “I own some tassels it would complement nicely.”

Bonanus smiled and closed the box. “I will see it done.”

Zhongli turned back to the tray Bosacius still held up for him, inspecting the artefacts thoughtfully. “What is there to do for me still, after this?”

Xiao stepped forward. “The initial ritual will take an hour before the public Rite. Until then, you have some time to check that everything is properly prepared for yourself if you wish. You are also yet to make your official visit to Yiyan temple, which is traditionally done before the coronation.”

“That one won’t take long,” Menogias added. “If you are satisfied with the preparations as they are, you can also take a moment to rest before the main event.”

“We still need to do your nails,” Indarias added with a happy little chuckle.

Groaning a little at the last one, Zhongli nodded. “Alright.” He reached out to grab the handle of the symbol of strength, to check how it would respond to him. “Then let us—hm?” When his hand closed around the handle of the old sword, he stopped, surprised, as he felt a small, but sharp sting against his skin. On instinct he dropped the blade he had only barely lifted and withdrew his hand.

Bosacius frowned and raised his head to look at him instead of the artefacts. “My lord?”

Zhongli turned his hand around to look at his palm, puzzled. Inside his mind, Morax had lifted his head, alarmed by the odd sensation but equally confused. Zhongli looked at the point where he had felt the sting, seeing a little red dot that told him of broken skin, right there between the junction of flesh between his index and middle fingers. He flexed his hand open experimentally, stretching the skin, and indeed a tiny pearl of blood appeared where it had been pierced.

He had about two seconds longer to wonder about this tiny injury before Morax’s anger exploded.

<NO.>

 The next moment Menogias had grabbed his wrist so tightly it hurt and wrenched it down as low as it went. “Bosacius!” he snapped at his brother who was still to catch on what might have happened.

The war marshal’s face darkened and growl like thunder erupted from his chest when he understood on to the meaning behind his brother’s actions. The items on the table were pushed aside to the floor without care as he made room for the artefact tray to set it down.

“Xiao, a healer. Now!” Menogias ordered, but he was talking to a burst of green and black smoke already before he finished, when Xiao too understood what was going on.

Zhongli raised his free, left hand on his eyes and exhaled slowly. Surely not…

“They wouldn’t dare…” Indarias looked ready to burst into flames. “Those forsaken wretches!”

“Rex Lapis, please sit down,” Bonanus urged Zhongli back towards the chair. “Do you feel anything unusual?”

“No,” Zhongli groaned out, letting the yaksha guide him to sit. Menogias was now clutching both of his hands around Zhongli’s wrist and forearm in a vice grip. “Surely this is a mistake? The artefact is old and the handle is fraying. It could have just—”

“No. It will not harm you,” Bosacius growled out, holding the handle of the sword to his face in search for answers. The blade he had wrapped into the cloth that had covered the artefacts for him to hold onto it without damaging it. “You are Rex Lapis. Unless you used it with that intention, this blade will not cut you.” Finding what he was searching for, his temper crackled like lightning. “Sister, help me out,” he called out to Bonanus who joined him in inspecting the sword, grabbing a pair of pincers from their make-up supplies.

Just then, a green flash told them of the return of Xiao, who had finished finding one of their healers in record time. Wave Soother let go of the yaksha’s arm as soon as they appeared in the room and was beside Zhongli in a heartbeat.

“What’s wrong? Rex Lapis?” she asked kneeling down in front of the chair, water appearing in guided bubbles above her hand. “The Conqueror of Demons didn’t explain, which only tells me this is urgent. What happened?”

“This,” Menogias caught the healer’s attention and turned the hand he was holding down towards her. “Someone has tampered with the divine artefacts. Tell us he is not poisoned.”

“Tampered? Poisoned?” Wave Soother repeated his words under her breath as she did as she was told, cupping Zhongli’s hand between her own to inspect it. The water in her hand transformed into strings of glowing blue sigils that started circling around Zhongli’s hand as she scanned it for impurities. Menogias and Indarias stood by Zhongli’s side as the healer worked, while Xiao stayed where he had appeared, rigid like a statue, his face unreadable.

“Here it is,” Bonanus interrupted the short moment of tense waiting, straightening and showing them the little needle she held in the pincers. It was short, perhaps only half a centimetre long or a little more. The other end of it was flattened into a wider plate. “It was stuck through the cloth of the handle, and this flattened part kept it upright.”

Indarias seethed and her hand gripped so hard against the back of Zhongli’s chair that the chair cracked in response. “They dared to try again, didn’t they? I guess cutting their army into a stub wasn’t enough for them to learn their lesson. Fine, I’ll gut every single one of them!”

Bosacius looked ready to join her. “Came back for more, did they?”

<Unlikely.>

Zhongli tensed at Morax’s following explanation, while the adepti’s attention was on their healer.

“It’s true…” Wave Soother said quietly, looking at the blue sigils that twisted about, telling her things the others could not read. She bit her teeth together. “He is. No… No, why? Why now?”

“Can you heal it?” Xiao asked immediately, stepping up as his hands clenched into fists.

Water was already attempting to clean the tiny hole in the skin. “You know how this works: I can try and heal the damage it does, not remove the poison itself.”

“Which poison is it then?!”

“I’m working on it!”

“All of you, calm down, this instant,” a new voice joined in, and they all turned to see Madame Ping walk towards them from the door. “We will not help the situation by losing our tempers, no matter the situation.” She came to stand beside Zhongli, instructing Indarias to get out of the way. “Rex Lapis, do you feel any ill effects on your body?”

Zhongli exhaled, slowly, still busy digesting what Morax had told him. There is no way… “The wound aches a little, like an insect bite would. Otherwise, nothing.”

“We need you to tell us everything. Absolutely everything, from now on,” Ping urged him, waiting for a nod, before looking at Wave Soother. “What do we know?”

The healer shook her head. “For certain only that it is a venom that is presumably deadly in very tiny amounts and potent even when having dried and after prolonged contact with air. Unless it has lost potency, it is also slow-acting.”

“I will find the rest of the healers,” Xiao said and disappeared again.

“And we will gather and warn the adepti,” Bosacius said with a low rumbling tone, trying to control his anger. He sent a meaningful look to Indarias, who nodded in response. “Even with all our precautions in place, our enemies managed to strike yet again. We must gather—”

“There is no need for that,” Zhongli decided to speak up. He closed his eyes and a crease formed on his forehead. He was still in the middle of deciding whether Morax’s hypothesis made him want to laugh or cry.

“What do you mean, Rex Lapis?”

Zhongli took a deep breath. “The throne room is inside the palace’s barrier,” he reminded the adepti, feeling the heaviness of the silence set in outside his own words as he spoke. “It has been so ever since before the Rite of Parting. The time window between the artefacts manifesting back on their pedestals and the barrier being raised is short and lands on a time the palace was on high alert with most of the adepti present. In addition, the enemy we’ve faced sought to kill the God of Contracts. They used their time to search and capture the vessel, making a point of not killing them outright. Most likely, to avoid having to repeat the searching process before they were ready to threaten the god himself.” Watching the adepti draw the same conclusions as Morax, Zhongli cast his eyes away from them all and smiled sadly at the floor.

<Why are you laughing?> Morax asked with a tone harsh with the fury he was barely containing.

Don’t you think it’s ironic? Zhongli pointed out. I’ve survived being hunted down and kidnapped by the forces of the Abyss, fought against tainted monsters and wolves, all the while struggling with an incomplete bond with a god. He suddenly felt tired again. Not physically, but letting the betrayal sink in left him feeling drained. And what finally gets me, is a tiny needle.

No poison could kill Morax. It could only ever force him to change his vessel.

<I do not find this funny in any capacity. If we’re right, you understand what that means. Don’t you?! Do you understand what they’ve done?!>

Zhongli shut his eyes tightly and tried not to let everything get to him. I do…

“Who all have clearance to pass through the barrier?” Bosacius asked slowly. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, like before a thunderstorm.

“The adepti,” Madame Ping started to list. “The kidnapping victims and their families. The Qixing. The city council. The staff of the previous two. The millelith generals and officers who’ve dealt with the battle. The soldiers infected by the miasma and the personnel attending to them. The caretakers of Yiyan temple. And the workers who have helped in the arrangements of the Rite of Ascension.” She spoke evenly, but the way she shook as she searched to hold Zhongli’s hand in her own told more of her current feelings. “Most of these people have only passed through on one time clearance, with no permission to re-enter after their business is done.”

“We can dismiss the injured soldiers from the list,” Wave Soother said quietly. “It is physically impossible for them to have done anything and they are under constant surveillance.”

“Most of the adepti have been away from the palace.” Menogias said, slipping to the role of a soldier giving a report to keep his cool. “The only ones here have either been with Rex Lapis or attended to the guests. The throne room was unguarded.”

“Why would we guard it?” Indarias asked sarcastically and clenched her fingers into tight fists. “Everything inside the barrier is safe space. And it’s not like someone could steal anything from there.” She looked away, frustrated with herself the most.

The door to the room burst open and Storm Chaser and Ganyu ran inside. Just as the other healer joined in with his colleague to check on him, Zhongli’s breathing got caught in his throat as a sharp flash of pain throbbed against his fingers and radiated up the palm and wrist. He looked down in thinly veiled shock at his fingers that now twitched and tensed against his will.

“Convulsions…” Madame Ping stood up and turned to Ganyu who was still trying to grasp the full situation and not panic. “Come with me. We’re gathering every single adeptus who knows anything of medicine and human experts if we have to, to figure out what type of venom this is.”

Bosacius straightened, his anger schooling itself into a determined and more professional expression. “Indarias, Bonanus, with me. Interview the adepti in charge of maintaining the barrier and find every single individual who has been inside it in the last few weeks.” He sent a sharp inquiring look at Menogias who was busy helping Storm Chaser get rid of Zhongli’s outer layer of clothes. “Brother?”

“I will help out here where I can. Call me if you need me.”

Bosacius nodded and right on cue, Xiao appeared back into the room with the last healer in tow. “Alatus,” Bosacius said before the winds that had carried his last brother in had fully dissipated. “Stay here to deliver messages. Keep everyone posted on whatever happens and what is found out.”

With that, the adepti dispersed, dividing their attention between finding those responsible, figuring out the right cure and keeping their lord in a condition where the previous one held meaning. Zhongli himself was still trying to internalize that this was all happening and real. For the first time since it took effect, the Contract of Mortal Divinity had been broken. He had not thought it possible for anyone to dare or be foolish enough to do so. Rex Lapis had been attacked in the past; by those who were either not aware of their identity or at times of war and conflict. By outsiders. Or by criminals already set on their path. Only them. The people of Liyue, noble and commoner, rich and poor alike, had through history voiced their objections to things an emperor had done or how they handled a matter: that was allowed. But knowingly bringing the divine vessel harm… Zhongli could not believe he had been the one to make that come to pass.

A searing shot tore at his muscles again, clenching his fingers and wrist which ever direction it wished. He had wondered once before, what his current resistance to poison was. He supposed he was about to find out.

A wave of conflicting and warring emotions descended upon him as Morax reached out to him in full force. For a moment he felt like he and the god were alone in the room as Morax’s presence overrode all of his senses of the surrounding world.

“Listen to me,” Morax’s voice echoed like he was right in front of him. He could even see the god reach out to him if he closed his eyes. “Only I can decide who is worthy of my power. No one else.”

The god sounded angry, reassuring and desperate at the same time. Even with the confusing mixture, his presence was calming and Zhongli leant on to his perceived touch to steel himself for whatever was to come.

“I won’t let you go.”

Another flash, this time up his arm past the dam of tightly pulled sashes and fingers that tried to prevent the venom from spreading through his body. It threatened to pull Zhongli’s senses back out into the real world, but Morax grabbed onto him to keep him there a moment longer.

“I refuse to let you go! So don’t give up. Do you understand me?!”

The pain resembled the type you’d experience when pulling a muscle or twisting an ankle, except that it lasted longer and came in repeating, unforgiving pulses.

“Listen to me! I’ll do what I can without triggering the strain. I’m here with you, don’t forget that. Whatever happens, don’t give up on me!>

What had been a relatively quiet start, fast turned into a living nightmare.

For the first hour, Zhongli remained coherent and tried to explain whatever he felt to the healers to the best of his ability. The throes and judders quickly spread across his body, first to the smaller muscles, then to the larger ones, and increased in frequency as minutes passed, leaving him no time to catch his breath in between. Once his whole body had been conquered, there was no telling where the convulsions would next strike. Each time his muscles constricted against themselves like lifting an extreme weight until the fibres tore and gave up under the pull. And each time the adepti would soothe the pains and heal the damage that had been done, allowing the cycle to repeat.

The second hour felt shorter, but not any easier. Zhongli was certain he blacked out at least a few times completely, but couldn’t tell was it for seconds or minutes. Falling unconscious entirely was impossible, for the agony would always forcefully pull him back to his struggles. When it became clear that the convulsions were the main not the side effect, Morax managed to identify the substance torturing him. Zhongli gasped that information out to the adepti who fought to keep his body from tearing itself apart. But knowing the name of the venom was of little comfort, when with it came the realisation that it had no antidote. It was rare and what victims it killed; it usually claimed in remote locations before help could arrive. No one with the required knowledge to figure out a cure had ever bothered.

By the third hour, there was no longer any solace to be had, be it a break between the spasms or the soothing effects of the healing. One of the adepti had by now permanently focused on shielding the muscles that controlled his breathing from damage, leaving the others to combat what was left. Everything hurt. Moving was painful, but staying still only increased his agony. It was when he first coughed out blood that the healers were alerted to the fact that the muscles that controlled his swallowing had reached their limit. The venom forced his muscles to constrict and fight against each other for dominance, leaving bruises to his skin in the wake of their wars. All the while, Morax’s efforts, as well as any of Zhongli’s own capabilities to heal that the god could control and command, were concentrated on shielding his heart from any and all damage. It was like Morax had cast his heart inside a shield and stood guard by all the paths to it. The moment he’d slip and let the venom tear at Zhongli’s heart, their battle would be over.

The fourth hour came and went, but Zhongli could no longer tell the difference between minutes and seconds. He was aware that the adepti were talking to him, but his own voice had already abandoned him. It only rasped out hoarsely whenever the pain got too extreme for him to suffer in silence. More of the adepti had joined the effort to keep him in this purgatory and, at some point, he had been laid down to lie on something more comfortable. But with every muscle in his body screaming at every brush of fabric or gust of air, no matter how comfortable the bed, gravity felt like his worst enemy at the moment, aside from himself.

When the fifth hour offered no change to this torture, he wanted to give up. He wanted the adepti to stop healing him and let him be. At least an already torn muscle could not be abused again. He wanted Morax to stop telling him he could get through this. Stop holding his heart between his shielding hands like a hostage that prevented his escape. He wanted it to stop. He didn’t care what the adepti were telling him as his hazed eyes stared into nothing and breathing rasped into another moan of pain. There was no longer a difference between which muscle decided to rebel against him: it was all the same. He would have felt a sting of a needle like his entire body had been hit with bricks. He was tired of that. Who ever had wanted this for him could win for all he cared. He only wanted it to end. He only wanted it to be over.

In the space within, Morax had concentrated all his efforts into maintaining a moving web made from cords of power that danced around a seal he had not used in a long time. He felt awful for having disconnected his sense of touch from Zhongli, but he could not have worked had he felt everything like his vessel did. But he wasn’t blind to the suffering. He could feel as the will to struggle slowly morphed into desperation. He could hear how the entire body he inhabited begged for mercy as the cycle of pain and healing persisted. And there wasn’t an explanation in this world the one who had instigated this could offer him that would make him forgive what had been done.

But he was determined they would win in the end. His vessel would live. They would make it through this. The adepti had figured out a cure. It was only the matter of time until this torture would be past them.

He would not lose another, not like this. Not this soon. Not to a traitor within his own people.

So, he kept talking. Trying to encourage him, comfort him and ask him to trust them. Trust himself.

They were past the worst.

The body would heal.

The pain would pass.

It would end soon.

Just a little longer.

Stay with me.

When he sensed the change, it was like colour drained from the world. Like everything around him washed away into shades of grey and left him cold and drenched in the rain. It shook him out of his concentration and the seal between his hands wavered before he managed to stabilize it again. The desperate cry from the adepti told him he wasn’t the only one who had realised and been shook by the realisation.

“No…” he breathed out and gritted his teeth in concentration to hold the seal with one hand so that the other might reach out and call for his vessel. “Stop… Come to me.”

There was a moment of resistance for him to force his way through to summon his paired soul to himself. To help him manifest, Morax created a body for him to inhabit within their shared domain, something a mind usually managed on its own. But now a waypoint was needed, so he hastily built one and it came into existence before him.

As the form of his vessel slumped to the floor like a doll, Morax felt his own hopes draining away at the insistence of the grey rain and turn into despair. “Don’t do this,” he begged as he knelt down next to the unmoving husk. “Please. Come back.”

But there was no one to hear him talk now. For the tortured mind had sought a way to oblivion and, when denied death and unconsciousness, taken the door left open and dived into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Ganyu’s hands shook a little as she marked off names from the list in front of her. Little by little, they had managed to narrow down their suspects. As the person in charge of managing the information Rex Lapis might need, she knew many of these people. She had met and talked with them. She could see the faces of the people whose names remained uncrossed. Each person they ruled out, was like pointing an accusing finger to the ones that remained. It made this process even more painful. One of these people might have…

The corners of her eyes burned, but she refused to cry and pouted fiercely to hold it back. This hell had lasted five hours now. Almost three hours after the time their lord had supposed to have ascended and everything should have returned closer to the way things should have been. But instead… Why? Why would anyone do this? What has Rex Lapis done to deserve this? Who would dare to so brazenly challenge a divine contract? Why did this have to happen? Why?!

“What did you tell to the people?” Skybracer asked as he finished listing the latest changes, that they had decided to make to their list of suspects, for her to pen down.

Ganyu lowered her head, finding it difficult to speak loudly. “I told them there had been an accident.” A little past noon, she had gone in front of the people waiting for the ceremony to begin, restless for the delay and the apparent commotion, and lied to them. It was no accident. “And that the Rite could not be held until the situation had been fixed.” Why…

“Many people in the city are restless and confused,” Mountain Shaper reported to them from his spot by the open window, looking over the city with sharp eyes. “They are demanding answers from the millelith who know nothing either. But since we detained the Liyue Qixing and the Harbor’s council, the millelith are the only ones the people can rely on for information.”

Moon Carver let out a low, long grunt. “One has heard complaining about the delay, like the Rite were just any show they had bought tickets to that got cancelled. Even without knowing the truth, their behaviour is disrespectful of our ancient arts and our lord.”

“There are those have shown concern over what might have happened as well,” Mountain Shaper added, softening the tone a little, only for it to go right back to hostile next.

“Hmph!” Cloud Retainer huffed and angrily beat her wings. “Their curiosity be damned! We have no reason to coddle these people. Whoever it turns out did this, it was not them who signed the Contract: it was the people of Liyue! They’ve broken their contract with lord Morax! If Rex Lapis dies, one should raze the Harbor to the ground for their actions!”

“Calm yourself, Cloud Retainer,” Madame Ping said strictly. “We cannot condemn the entire nation for the actions of one. The people will be held responsible for the breach of the Contract, but the nature of their punishment is not for us to decide. For now, we must wait and believe in Rex Lapis’ ability to make it through this ordeal. I do not want to hear any of you theorize he might not.”

Cloud Retainer took a deep shaking breath, trying to calm her emotions. Just then, the door was loudly busted open and Bosacius marched inside with his sisters.

“Report,” he said curtly, glaring around the room.

“Report to us yourself, Marshal Vritras,” Skybracer replied with a stern voice and responded to the glare in kind. “Have the yaksha managed to collect all the individuals we’ve identified?”

“Yes,” it was Indarias who answered. “They’ve been gathered into the throne room.”

“Anyone left?” Bosacius asked for a report again, having walked over to the table in front of Ganyu, and looked at the papers laid out on it.

Ganyu hesitated, but turned the list of potential individuals towards him, pressing her finger down against the last name they had neither crossed out to determine them innocent nor sent out their friends to find and bring into custody. Ganyu hugged her other arm across her stomach when she watched Bosacius stare at the name in silence. “You don’t… you don’t suspect her, do you? She could not have… That would be too cruel!”

“We cannot rule out any potential suspects until we have definitive proof,” Bosacius replied and turned around to walk back towards the door. “Bonanus. Collect the director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. We’re bringing her in.”

“Now wait just a moment, Marshal Vritras,” Madame Ping stopped him before any of the yaksha could leave. “She is the only person Rex Lapis has named as his family. He would not have any of you treat her harshly. Even if we do not completely take her off the list of suspects, she deserves to know the truth and be by his side as he recovers.”

“One is not letting a single human near lord Morax’s vessel again!” Cloud Retainer objected.

“This wasn’t exactly a close-range attack to begin with, was it?!” Indarias raised her voice, fire burning in her eyes. “No: we failed again! How do we even face Rex Lapis when he recovers?! It is us who keep breaking the Contract!” She hissed between her teeth and looked away from the all. “Whatever happens, no one should call us yakshas ‘guardian adepti’ after this…”

A flash of green silenced the room immediately, all of their attention turning to Xiao as he arrived. All the arguments in the air died down to hear the latest update from the healers and other adepti attending to their lord.

“Alatus, you’re here,” Bonanus spoke up and stepped forward. “How is he?”

“The antidote,” Moon Carver demanded to know. “Did it work?”

“…Yes,” Xiao replied, but his voice sounded strained. “It took effect.”

“Then why do you look so tense?” Indarias asked, frantically and walked across the room to her brother. “Alatus, what happened? Please tell us he’s alright.”

Xiao’s jaw clenched and his eyes squinted with barely contained frustration and anger as he looked away. “He soul dived.”

A cold silence spread into the room at his report, only broken by the rustle of paper and a screech of a chair as Ganyu stood up from her chair slowly. “That… that means he’s with lord Morax now, no?” she asked, fearful of the answer.

Xiao crossed his arms and his fingers bore into his biceps harshly. “…It doesn’t appear so.”

Ganyu’s breath shivered and she felt her legs getting weaker. “Then… where is he?” When Xiao didn’t answer to her but instead scowled at the floor before his eyes closed, Ganyu felt her knees give in and slumped down next to the table. The tears she had fought to keep back fell down now as she dug her fingers in to her hair and hid her face from their sight.

“We don’t know,” Xiao finally replied to her question, confirming their dread.

“He can make it back,” Indarias said under her breath like a mantra and looked at her brother for answers. “He can make it back, right?!”

Xiao’s own frustration took a more vocal form as he grunted in reply. “With what skill would he do that?! He’s an amateur at the technique to begin with!”

They all startled as Bosacius caused a loud crashing sound to ring in the room by hitting a wooden pillar, denting it. “I refuse to believe Rex Lapis is lost,” he stated with a low voice. “Alatus. You too should have more faith in our lord.”

Xiao grinded his teeth, but calmed down a little. “Soul diving to your own mind is like taking a dip in a pool. The water is shallow and calm, and no matter how long you take, you can always find of the exact spot you stepped in from.” His memories brought him back to his own experiences, from long time ago, aching at corner of his heart he had long tried to forget. “Compared to that, diving into the space between the minds of others is like plunging yourself into the ocean. The waters are deep and dark. The currents can take you whichever way they want. There is no bottom to reach or landmarks to tell where you came from. Whatever shore you reach, it will throw you back out and deny entry if it isn’t the exact one you came from. It is exhausting to both the mind and the body.”

The adepti fell silent for a good while, all of them trying to form a conclusion in their head what this meant for them, Liyue and Rex Lapis. All of them were at least knowledgeable enough about the technique to know that soul diving was more dangerous the longer it took. It left the body weak, gradually more and more unable to maintain itself without aid. For someone like Rex Lapis, who was not only mostly human and unaccustomed to the art, but also already in a state where his body had been pushed to his limits, soul diving was lethal. Other than straight up death, one could say this was one of the worst-case scenarios. They had managed to find the cure, but not soon enough.

There was no way around it. They had failed. They had failed again.

“Rex Lapis has managed to surprise us on multiple occasions,” Ping was the one to speak first, with a carefully evened out tone. “He will do so again. He will find his way back to us.” She shook her head. “As long as lord Morax stays with him, I will also have faith.”

Bonanus turned around, walking back to the door. “I will go collect the director,” she stated quietly.

“Bonanus,” Ping called after her managing to slow her steps a little. “Bring the girl to the inner palace. I will take responsibility over her there.”

Bonanus didn’t comment as she disappeared. Bosacius also turned on his heels and marched out, Indarias following a step behind.

Xiao let out a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I’m going back,” he only said, teleporting out as well.

After the yakshas had left, the only clear sound in the room was the little shivering breaths and sobs that Ganyu gasped against the floor. “Lord Morax…” she whispered, like a pray reaching out to their god. “I’m so sorry…”

Morax could not hear her. In fact, as he sat there, alone on his knees in the space within, he found it hard to even listen to the sounds of the adepti trying to call for his vessel’s mind to return.

He had never experienced this.

He had been through death and pain with his vessels; been there whether they had only slept or fallen unconscious. Upon death, he would also leave, saying a final goodbye and a thank you to the body that had housed him until then.

But now, he was alone.

The body lived, yet what remained of it was hollow. Empty. The world around him was silent and grey. The waypoint at his feet was nothing but a doll in an image of his vessel. The adepti on the outside felt so distant. The senses he usually shared with his vessel had dulled and faded: not completely gone, but almost out of his reach. The heart he had tried to protect for hours now was beating weaker, slowing down as the body he inhabited laid limp in the hands of the healers.

With the union unfinished, his claim to the body was even weaker still. There was nothing he could do. The poison that had kept the body in an iron grip was now dimming when the nerves it had tortured slowly turned more and more unresponsive. But where the poison lost effect, so did the antidote. With the body’s metabolism slowing down, its attempts to heal did as well. The fierce, hours long battle had turned into a slow grind between two opposing forces that had lost their shine.

Morax barely noticed it. Had he not stabilized the seal quietly moving above his palm before, it would have fizzled out and left the body to truly fend for itself. The silence was gut wrenching. The lack of colour was devastating.

“Zhongli?”

Silence. There wasn’t even an echo to answer him. In a fit of desperation, he closed his eyes and sent out his presence towards the void between minds.

“Come back.”

He could not leave the body. If he too left now, the mind of his vessel would lose its place to return to. It would truly be over. He could not go searching for him. All he could do was holler into the void.

“Don’t do this!”

Why was this happening again? Yet another vessel he was desperately struggling to protect. With the body at its limit to receive power from him, but the soul counting on his presence not to fall off the edge after the mind, he was walking on a tight line, where one straying step would collapse the body. The body he had become determined to call home.

“Come back to me.”

What had he done wrong? What could have he done differently? Or was it someone else he should bare his fangs at for this? Who was it who had preyed on his vessel like their life meant nothing?

“Zhongli!”

They would pay. Those responsible would forever regret the day they decided to cross him.

“Don’t leave.”

This silence was suffocating. This lack of feeling from the outside was disorienting. This absence of colour was a constant reminder of the vibrance of the life he was about to lose.

“Don’t go…”

Nothing was responding to him, no matter how far out he reached in search of a familiar spark.

“…I’m sorry…”

He was unsure how long he sat there, trying in vain to search for a tether to grab on and pull the lost mind back from the void. Then a new voice joined the adepti at edge of his conscious thought and brought him back to the situation outside his vessel. Only to make him feel even worse.

Madame Ping stayed at the door, letting Hu Tao take her time to internalize what she saw. The adepti had moved Rex Lapis to his bedroom once the antidote had started taking effect, relieving the worst and most dangerous effects of the poison. They had been hopeful of his recovery: tired and horrified, but hopeful. Until the moment he had slipped out of their fingers and left the three healers and the adepti aiding them to shout out in horror.

The emperor was now lying still and silent in his bed, while two of the healers still attended to him at all times, so that one of them could rest. They had laid him on his side and Hu Tao watched in silence for a moment as Storm Chaser ran a hand against Zhongli’s back, trying to find the right cluster of muscles to heal. Rex Lapis had turned pale and he looked like he had been in a bad fight, with many parts of his skin bruising or throbbing red. The other healer tending to him, Xiánshen, had her mechanical hand pressed against his abdomen and the other closely monitoring the movement of his chest with his breathing.

“You may go closer,” Wave Soother told Hu Tao when the director did nothing for a good while. “Just don’t move him around much or get in our way.”

Hu Tao took a step forward and then another, before stopping again. For once, she could not find the words to say in this situation.

“I don’t know how much you’ve been told,” Wave Soother continued, taking a seat next to the door, slumping down in exhaustion. “But you know of the instances he has had before that have left him unexpectedly unconscious. This is that, but worse. In this state, what he is going through is akin to hibernation. His body has slowed down all processes to a near stop. Unfortunately, that includes healing his injuries and fighting off the rest of the venom. And…” She paused to sigh. “A human body is not meant to hibernate. His body temperature is dangerously low and there is no extra energy storage to draw from for sustenance. We will do everything we can, but… we need him to return. The sooner the better.”

Hu Tao listened, but struggled to understand. She took another step closer and finally slowly walked to the side of the bed. Xiánshen glanced at her briefly, moving a little out of the way, but kept her hands at work and said nothing.

Hu Tao sat on the edge of the bed and tentatively pressed her finger against the palm of the hand resting on the mattress near her knee. She brushed her finger against his and drew a circle on his palm, hoping for a reaction. There was none. The skin felt cold against hers and the fingers didn’t even minutely twitch in response to her touch.

Finally letting what she had seen and been told sink in, Hu Tao took his hand in her own, gathering the cold fingers to nest against the warmth of her palm. “Hey,” she called out quietly, leaning closer and lifting his hand up to better hold it. “Zhongli?”

He looked so unbelievably frail like this. Hu Tao pinched the short hairs splayed against the pillow next to his forehead between her fingers. They were damp with sweat. “Wake up, silly. Don’t you remember what I always tell you?” she asked, playing with the hair. “I don’t have time in my schedule for your funeral.” She brought her legs closer to lean over more balanced and switched her playful fingers to do little pets. “Don’t you think another Rite of Parting within a month from the last is a little much? Besides, how would I make it hold up a candle to the one you made? Hey? Are you listening, sleepyhead? …Don’t make me hold one,” she begged and gently pressed her head over his to hide her tears from the adepti, although they made their way into her voice.

Hu Tao clutched the cold hand closer, while her other own kept slowly petting against the top of his head. “Hey, your holiness?” she whispered with a sob and hugged herself against Zhongli, as close as she could without getting in the way. “This is not what we agreed…”

Morax weaved the hand that wasn’t holding the protection seal through his hair and pulled his knee up close to better bury his face against his arm. “I know…” he muttered. He had broken his promise. He had failed to take care of things that were important. Again.

The feeling of grief overcame him and, on a whim, he reached out: knowing he could not do much in fear of disrupting the delicate balance his vessel hang in, but desperate to apologise for being unable to hold his promise. Hu Tao did not need to forgive him. In fact, she should not. He should have done better. He should have known better. He should have—

“Oh.”

Morax’s eyes snapped open when he heard Hu Tao speak again.

Hu Tao’s eyes had widened as well, when she felt the faint touch of the response. “I see,” she said quietly and moved to lie her head down on the pillow above Zhongli’s, keeping up the slow pets against the hair. “Are you sad too?” Hu Tao asked and closed her eyes. “Well, then everything will be fine. Don’t worry. With the two of us waiting, he’ll come back for sure. He doesn’t like making people upset or worried. You’ll see.”

Morax cupped the seal with two hands again and steadied its wavering movements back to their normal dance. He nodded, not that anyone could see it now.

He would wait.

That’s why, the body could not fall. He would not allow it to fall. He’d wait. He’d hold out as a beacon and have the waypoint ready to host the returning mind. This was not how it would to end.

It could not end here.

And yet, there was nothing he could do, but wait.

.

…

.

“How long must we wait? How long do you intend to keep us here without any explanation?” lord Song demanded information from the adeptus that stood guard by the door. A door that was closed with a seal and would not open, even if they had convinced the yaksha to step out of the way.

“You will wait until we see fit,” the young adeptus replied without batting an eye at the frustrated twitch of the eyebrows or the straightened back and pulled back shoulders that tried to convey authority to him.

The people waiting in the throne room were many. The Qixing and the council had been gathered, so had the kidnapping victims and their families, excluding the children. Many servants were also present, as well as some of the doctors who had tended to the injured soldiers. A few of the attendants of the Yiyan temple who had only some hours ago waited for Rex Lapis to make his visit, were now standing to the side of the room, seeking support from one another’s presence in their confusion and unrest. Many of these people had waited for hours now, with no explanation as to why. Sometimes the adepti would come in to deliver another person, sometimes they would walk someone out the same way they had come, with that person not returning, but never did any of the illuminated guardians explain their actions.

“I suggest you stand down, lord Song, and learn to choose your battles,” Ningguang advised, her expressions and body language tense and alert, but carefully calculated to not reveal the many emotions she hid. “The time for the Rite of Ascension has long passed, yet both us and many of the adepti have been confined here. For a divine rite to be cancelled, something of grave importance must have happened.” She could think of a few possibilities what it might have been: all of them leaving her feeling cold in her chest. The fact that the adepti were not talking to them reminded her vividly of the time a few weeks ago when they had been blamed for collusion against the emperor and official distrusted by their divine guardians. Back then, as it had turned out, it had been a ruse to confuse their enemies, but now that those enemies had been chased off and Rex Lapis was present, this behaviour had no reasons she could think of that did not speak of a potential disaster.

Her eyes locked onto the two divine artefacts on their pedestals behind the throne. The artefacts should have been at the temple for the Lord of Geo, ready to be carried outside by the adepti so that Rex Lapis could have completed his rituals. That they were still here, on their pedestals, left her feeling anxious.

“Ningguang,” Keqing caught her attention. The Yuheng spoke quietly next to her. “The adepti are watching us like hunters looking for a moment to strike at their prey. There is clear hostility in the air, but also something else.” Spending hours in this room filled with air of uncertainty and increasingly frustrated people, while their every move was being watched, was testing even the most patient and calm individuals. “What do you make of this?”

“That we should not make any hasty guesses or gambles,” Ningguang assessed without a second thought. She knew when to tread carefully. “I can but pray that nothing as dire as what happened a month ago has come to pass again.” That was what this all was reminding her off. Her memories drifted back to the dinner she had shared with Rex Lapis a few days ago: her first more detailed look at their new emperor. A pleasant, fruitful and tranquil time. Now, she hoped he was safe.

Suddenly a door behind the throne at the end of the hall opened and all of the five guardian yaksha walked into the room from behind the hanging curtains. It was an imposing sight to most to see all of the legendary adepti in one place, more so in a restless and uncertain atmosphere like this. The murmur around the hall quieted down momentarily, before the most brazen started asking questions and demanding answers from the military leaders.

“Silence!” Marshal Vritras bellowed to the people in the hall, with a voice that made most of the common folk cower. The yakshas stopped to stand between the crowd and the throne. The adepti standing guard around the room stayed still and silent, but Ningguang noticed that their eyes were darting around, like they were trying not to miss a single movement. Before she could decide what to make of it, her attention was back in the yaksha at the front. “We have gathered you here for one reason.” Ningguang did not need to be an expert in reading people to tell that the marshal was angry: Bosacius’s glare made people shiver. “Some people, or someone, in this room… is a traitor.”

Ningguang could feel the temperature in the room drop. Oh no… What had happened? Rex Lapis… She tried not to think too negatively, but she could not keep the thoughts away. This entire month had been one of the most stressful ones of her life. When she had learnt that a new emperor had finally been found, she could not stop the feeling of relief that had taken over her. Had the situation called for it, she would have carried the burden, with or without the support of the adepti. But when offered alleviation, she had taken it like a hungry child would gulp down a roasted fish. It had been like a form of stability had returned to her life. Now that base under her feet was shaking yet again.

“Traitor?” Yanqie from the city council repeated in disbelief. “On what grounds do you blame us of such a thing? What is this about?”

Indarias and Menogias turned around and walked over to the divine artefacts. Indarias grabbed the sword in her hand by the handle, shocking quite a few people as only Rex Lapis was allowed to handle the artefact like that. Meanwhile, Menogias carefully lifted the stone dumbbell to rest on his hands. With the artefacts, they walked back to their place on the line the yaksha had made.

Bosacius looked around the people gathered before them. “It came to our attention earlier today, that the divine artefacts had been tampered with.” Not letting the confused looks or rising questions hinder him, he continued. “The barrier around the palace prevents anyone without authorization from entering the throne room, but thanks to the adepti’s absence from the palace and the millelith being busy with the aftermath of the battle, anyone with clearance could have entered this room without being noticed if they were careful. Based on our investigation, this tampering has to have happened within the last four to five days. All of you here!” he raised his voice to convey the outrageous nature of this incident. “Have been inside the barrier within that time frame, stayed long enough and had the opportunity to make a visit to the throne room.” He spread pointed hands to the two artefacts his siblings held before them. “One of you… is responsible.”

After a stunned moment of silence, lord Reng spoke up. “You’ve kept us here for hours for this?”

“’For this’?” Bosacius repeated. “It seems I should enlighten you about the severity of this situation.” He gave a nod to the adepti around the room who immediately drew their weapons, immediately shifting the atmosphere in the room from uncertainty towards fear. The people stumbled away from the edges of the room to get further away from the adepti.

“Worry not,” Bonanus said, but her tone was as cold as her brother’s. “Those of you we find innocent, will not come to harm.”

“Marshal Vritras, this is outrageous!” Keqing spoke up and pushed her way up to the front of the group to stand before the yakshas. “I agree that tampering with divine artefacts is a serious crime, but if most the people here are innocent, threatening them is entirely out of line!”

“If that was all this was, do you think we would stand here before you like this?!” Bosacius silenced her and everyone else.

“There is a poison that can only be obtained from a certain species of spiders that live in the deserts of Sumeru,” Menogias started explaining unexpectedly, giving the stone dumbbell to Xiao for him to take back to the pedestal. “They live burrowed under the scorching sands, eating small critters and insects that either dig down or move past close enough to the spider’s hiding spot. Its bite quickly kills the victim it then drags under the sand to feast on for weeks. The spider only hunts small prey and tends to burrow deeper when it senses strong vibrations in the sand, indicating a bigger creature’s presence. As such, it is rarely a threat to humans or their pets. But on some occasions, say something gliding or flying down from a cliff lands too close or perhaps when a bigger creature’s foot simply sinks too deep into the sand, the spider can strike at bigger opponents. A rare occasion, happening to even the people living in the desert only once a decade or so. Not enough to warrant spending what little knowledge and resources they have to find an antidote. But make no mistake, this poison is potent enough to kill an adult man in an hour if they’re lucky. Two if they are unlucky. Not an easy poison to harvest and illegal to both sell and buy.”

Indarias stepped up and raised the symbol of strength for the crowd to see as Bosacius continued again. “A lethal poison with no known cure. Covering a tiny needle, that someone slipped through the fabric around the handle of the symbol of strength. Someone in this room.”

On the first mention of poison, Ningguang’s expression had lost its restraint and let her shock come through. As Menogias had continued his explanations, the Tianquan had had the time to connect the dots as to why they had been gathered here and why the adepti appeared to be so angry.

“No…” Yun Jin gasped a little and held her hands over her mouth in shock as she understood as well, what was being implied.

“You think I… that we would attempt to murder the emperor?” master Hangui uttered in shock, trying to steady himself, seemingly having trouble standing.

“Preposterous!” lord Reng Yao shouted and shoved his way to the front of the group, past the commoner woman who tried to find some solace in the fact that her children were not present. “You would accuse us of treason based only on our presence within the barrier? Laughable! And what of yourselves then? The adepti have clearance as well, no?!”

Xiao’s eyes flashed. “You suggest we would betray our god?”

“In all honesty: yes. I have to agree,” Li Teng admitted and closed his eyes. “Aren’t you accusing us of doing the same? The God of Contracts is our god as well. All of you should be equally suspect in this. No one would doubt seeing an adeptus near the throne room.”

“Whatever the case, this heinous act goes against the Contract of Mortal Divinity,” Keqing spoke up again. She tried her best to keep her calm, but the gravity of the situation was not lost on her. “I do not want to believe any human or adeptus would willingly do such a thing. Are you absolutely certain this was done by one of us? Isn’t there a chance someone was controlled by the enemies we’ve fought against?”

Bonanus shook her head. “The barrier detects most such spells. Even in the case of it being someone merely influenced or coerced into doing this, the only people with the opportunity are still present in this room. Finding them even if they’re not directly responsible is our top priority.”

“Honoured guardians,” Baizhu said and bowed down to the yaksha. “I admit I am not too familiar with this poison, but I know it loses potency over time. Is this what allowed you to narrow down the time frame this act has to have been committed in? In that case, can the time not be narrowed down further? His majesty has not shown himself to the people for long, meaning if someone wanted to oppose him directly, they would have had to make their plans only after meeting Rex Lapis. The poison is not easy to acquire: it would have taken time. I find it unlikely anyone had it on hand.”

“We have taken that into account,” Menogias replied. “However, we cannot say for certain that no one indeed had the poison ready to be used, thus you are all here.”

Baizhu bowed his head down to accept the reasoning. Changsheng seemed less convinced but stayed quiet. He was about to voice a growing concern, when Ningguang beat him to it.

“Marshal Vritras.” Ningguang had walked up to the front of the group and stopped to stand beside Keqing. As important as finding the culprit was, she needed to know. “Is his majesty safe?”

Bosacius contemplated for a moment what to say before replying. “It took the adepti four hours to make a working antidote to the poison.”

Keqing’s hand flew up to her mouth and she took a shaking step back in shock. She wasn’t the only who needed a moment when they realised they were not discussing a mere plot caught in advance. Ningguang’s worst thoughts were surfacing again, this time in full force. Although it had not been outright said, the faces of the adepti and that she had not been given a straight answer, told her of the unsaid details. Whoever had made this plot, had succeeded in their goal. Rex Lapis was dying.

“We will continue to believe in our lord,” Bosacius stated firmly as if to counter her grim thoughts. He crossed his hands. “And our intention is to present him with the culprit as soon as he is fit to hear our report. We will now start the process of inspecting each and every action from all of you, one by one, over the last few days. Those we deem not guilty, can leave. Those who we cannot verify, will stay in our custody for as long as this investigation requires. We do not demand your cooperation, but I recommend it for your own comfort.” His brows furrowed down and he gave all the people in the room a look that dared them to even try and put up a fight. “I’ve heard of some of the things that many of you lot have uttered since his majesty told you the truth of the events that have taken place this past month. If a fake dispute between us adepti and humans did not satisfy you, congratulation: you’ve gained a real one.”

And just like so, Liyue was once again divided. This time in a way everyone could see, when the barrier around the palace gained a new layer: one that only the adepti were allowed to pass.

The citizens of the Harbor retired to rest that night with no news as to what had cancelled the Rite of Ascension. Various rumours once again were whispered from one ear to another. The leaders of the city were nowhere to be seen. The millelith knew not what had happened. The adepti did not show themselves to the people.

Order… was crumbling.

.

…

… …

…What happened?

… … …

Where am I?

.

Xiao stood by, silently watching as Indarias tried quietly talking to their lord. The night had brought little changes to Rex Lapis’ status, but the healers had worked tirelessly to heal the damage on his body. The poison was mostly conquered now and they could have relaxed a little, had the situation been less bad. According to the healers, Morax had also expanded his powers to shield other things beside the heart, freeing them from the duty to constantly monitor the emperor’s breathing. They could now concentrate on healing the torn muscles in earnest, even though the body refused to receive most of the power they tried to offer it, making the process slow.

Xiao had been with the healers for most of the time, frequently checking back in even after joining his siblings in finding the culprit. He knew the type of pain that could chase a mind out of the body and now, he had seen it happen to someone else. What had his comrades thought back then, when he had slipped from their grasp like this? Had he made them feel this same weight in their chests? No, this couldn’t possibly be compared to that: he had not even been that close with his siblings back then. And yet, lord Morax had forced him to return.

Because of his personal experiences, Xiao had never felt the need to use this technique to meditate like some adepti. That was not what he associated it with. If he had, would he have been skilled enough to do something in this situation? Xiao was nothing but angry at himself now, when he could not even begin to return the favour, he had once been granted.

“Why do you keep him lying on his side like that?” Cloud Retainer asked Storm Chaser who was taking a break while Wave Soother had taken over the work. Xiánshen was sleeping in a room across the hallway. Now that the most imminent danger had passed, or more accurately was out of their control, the healers tried to pace themselves. “Is it not more uncomfortable for him?”

“On the contrary,” Storm Chaser replied and looked over towards Rex Lapis with a frown on his face. “In this position he is the most relaxed.”

A crease formed on Xiao’s forehead as he turned to look at the healer. He had heard no talk of this. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know how poking or pinching a sleeping person can make them twitch away without waking them up?” Storm Chaser tried to explain. “For someone in his majesty’s state, something like that should not happen. And yet if we lay him on his back, he will get minutely restless.”

“And how is that possible, if one may ask?”

“Before you get your hopes up: no, he is not showing signs of waking up.” Storm Chaser shot Cloud Retainer’s slightly more hopeful inquiry down. “The venom’s effects have passed, yet the strain on his nervous system must have been immense. For him to react even in this state, any sort of pressure must be making him severely uncomfortable. With his majesty currently unable to provide us with any sort of feedback on his own condition, we’re working with what we can gather. We suspect it has something to do with his spine. But even if we’re wrong about that, this seems to be the best we can do for his comfort. That’s what matters the most.” He let out a deep sigh and released the hair he had tied back to a ponytail to keep it out of the way, letting it wave around now that he tried to restore his energies. “It just frustrates me that that seems to be the most we can do.”

.

…

… …

Where is this?

There is…

… … …Nothing here.

It’s so dark… …

…

… … …

Any colour…

…

…pushes… away…

… …

Why is there no sound?

…

Why can’t I feel?

… …

…Am I ...dead?

.

“What will you say to them?” Keqing asked cautiously as she and Ningguang stood behind the wall leading to the terrace in front of Yiyan Temple, out of sight from the people gathered on the other side. She had been thankful the adepti had released her and Ningguang and stopped doubting their involvement, but returning to their duties after confinement had proven to be a chaos. The adepti were one hundred percent treating the people of Liyue like they had all broken the Contract with this continued silent treatment. Keqing would have said a few chosen words to the adeptus accompanying them now if she hadn’t known they were already prancing along a narrow line.

Ningguang was taking a moment to answer her, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Finally, she took a calm, deep breath. “The truth.”

“What?” Keqing couldn’t help but be surprised. “You would… tell them of the betrayal? That Rex Lapis is again about to die at the hands of some… malevolent force?”

“He will not die,” the adeptus growled at her words immediately.

“That is what I would want to believe as well, believe me.”

“Although their actions are harsh, the adepti are not completely in the wrong, Keqing,” Ningguang pointed out, raising her eyes to stare at the layers and layers of barriers around the palace. “If the culprit turns out to be one of the people still investigated, the people of Liyue are indeed jointly responsible for breaking the trust God of Contracts once placed on us. The culprit will receive their due punishment no doubt, but we cannot turn our backs on what has been done and claim it not concern us. I intend to prove to our lord that we yet support him and are worthy of our archon’s trust. I am sure many in the Harbor will feel the same.”

Keqing could not refute her, she felt the same after all, despite her wish that the adepti would act a little more benevolent towards the people. “People have waited two days in uncertainty now. I am sure you realise what type of rumour mill you’re creating and with what force it will start? We should be careful of how we word things or things might get out of hand.”

A ghost of a smile graced Ningguang’s lips. “You need not worry: I intend to make that mill run exactly as I need it. We need not lie. Only, as you say: be selective with our wording.”

“Lady Ningguang,” a millelith officer came to them and stood in attention. “Everything is ready for your speech. The people are eagerly waiting news at last.”

“Thank you. Return to your post. I will be there soon.”

“You know you only need to ask me for help if you need it, right?” Keqing reminded the Tianquan as she corrected the hem of her dress to go out in front of people.

Ningguang smiled to her one more time before she started walking towards the arch under which to hold her speech. “I would be a fool to forget.”

.

…

How long have I been here?

.

…

I…

… …cannot tell.

Why can’t I… move?

…

Or can I… Am I moving?

…

How can I tell…?

…Where can I go?

… … …

I can’t—

“Oh no. What are you doing all the way out here? Did you get lost?”

… … …

… …

…?

“You should hurry back. It is not safe for you to be here on your own.”

…

Who…

…are you?

.

“Miss, I’m afraid you cannot enter the temple or the palace at the moment,” the millelith guard tried to explain patiently. “No one can. The illuminated guardians have forbidden all entry.”

Xiangling’s lips quivered as she bit her teeth against the bottom one. She hung her head down and her hand curled up into a fist, only for Guoba to reach up and tug it so she’d hold his paw instead. “I just… need to find an adeptus. Any adeptus will do. Please?”

The guard sighed. “I wish I could help you, but—”

“What is it?”

The guard and Xiangling both jumped in surprise when a voice spoke up above them. Guoba’s eyes flew wide too, but it changed into a smile as he spotted Xiao standing on top of the nearby stone decoration and waved happily at the yaksha.

“G-general Alatus!” the guard stammered, completely taken off guard. “Sir! I did… not know you were here.”

“If you had, I would be in need of training,” Xiao remarked plainly and teleported down next to Xiangling. “I was close enough to hear. So: make it quick.” He inspected the young human child in front of him from head to toe. He knew her: Rex Lapis had visited her family’s establishment a couple of times. She was a chef, as far as he knew. And… His eyes landed down on the small brown bear that was done with his waving and was now back to looking more distressed. He was pulling on the chef girl’s hand and babbling about how she should say what she wanted before Xiao changed his mind. “…”

“I have… I have a question,” Xiangling stuttered, managing to find her voice and jump on the chance she had been given. “And something… I would like to give to you.”

She seemed eager, but nervous, although determined to not just turn around and give up. Xiao really had no reason to indulge her like this, but she and Rex Lapis had seemed close, so he was willing to give her a chance. Also… His eyes landed on the bear again. “…”

“It is really important!” Xiangling still argued her case, which Xiao had half listened to.

He sighed. “Very well,” he grunted and Xiangling managed a little yelp only before she realised, that she and Guoba were now very much not at the top of the stairs to Yujing Terrace, but in fact standing between the decorative bamboo thicket beside Yuehai Pavilion. Xiao did not give them much time to grasp the situation, letting go of their hands and crossing his own. “Speak.”

“Wha… huh?” Xiangling babbled, while Guoba was turning around and investigating his surroundings, tilting his head at everything, as confused by the sudden change of scenery.

Xiao huffed. “If you are not going to speak, leave. I do not have time to babysit you.”

“No! No, I’ll speak. Thank you for hearing me out, honoured adeptus,” Xiangling quickly assured.

“Alright,” Xiao sighed. “Then talk. A question and an item of some kind, was it?”

“Yes, um…” Xiangling’s expression fell and she started fiddling with her thumbs. “It’s about… Rex Lapis.”

Xiao’s eyes flashed a little. “Leave. I will not stay to answer some curious—”

“No, that’s not it,” Xiangling stopped him and waved her hands between them, shaking her head, before shrinking back again. “It’s… Rex Lapis is… Mr. Zhongli, isn’t he?”

The corners of Xiao’s eyes twitched. That was not yet public knowledge, although rumours were rampant. “What meaning would the identity of the emperor have to you?”

Xiangling clutched her hands together. “Three days ago, I was here with Hu Tao waiting for the Rite to start, when an adeptus came to take her to the palace. She had been so excited about the Rite, telling me to not miss it for anything, complaining how it was late and muttering to herself about that if it was on purpose, she’d never let someone live it down. She kept telling me she had a big surprise for me. But then the Rite was cancelled and a few days later we were told the emperor was… I…” she trailed of, finding her voice again when Guoba reached up to pat her hands. “Every other person who was kidnapped has returned home by now but him. And after an adeptus brought Hu Tao back, she locked herself up inside the Parlor and refused to see anyone. At first, I thought there was no way but it would make so much sense. But if Mr. Zhongli really is our new Rex Lapis, then he is…” She crouched down hugging her knees. “I just need to know… Please?”

Xiao exhaled slowly, contemplating her motivations. She seemed sincere at least. “…Yes. It is him,” he told her, watching how the information made her flinch and cover her mouth with her hands. “You know him and seem genuinely worried, so I’m willing to tell you this. But there is a reason we swore all the people who’ve met him to secrecy. Keep that in mind.”

Xiangling shook her head and stood up, trying to wipe her tears away to her wrists. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. But…” She fumbled the pouch hanging on her waist open and carefully lifted out some rustling, long-dead flowers. “I just wanted… Can you deliver these to him?”

Xiao frowned at the dried, mostly brownish red flowers that she was handing to him. “Why?”

“They’re… from the Rite of Parting,” Xiangling explained. “I collected and dried them as a memento. Mr. Zhongli told me that the flowers scattered on the streets were a way to guide the soul of the dead person where it was meant to go. So, I wondered if… if it’d work the other way too. If they were where the body was.” Her fingers twitched against the brittle flowers. “He needs to come home. He must.”

.

…

“I can show you the way back, but you will have to be the one to make the trip.”

…A way… back?

“You want to go back, no? This isn’t a place for a mind to hang out in. And I’m sure he wants you back as well.”

He?

…

…He…

!

…Morax.

“So you do have your wits about you still. Good. Keep holding on to that thought. It’ll help you get home. I’m not sure what happened to you, but I know he would not send you out here on purpose.”

Home…

What is…. my home?

“I… can’t answer that for you. That is something everyone decides for themselves.”

…Home… the… Parlor.

… …

No… Not anymore… I cannot go back…

“I’m sure you have a home you can return to. A home is not always a place.”

…

“Besides, your body is a home that always welcomes you back. In this case, it should be said it is the home that misses you.”

My… body?

…

How do you…

Who are you?

“You will not remember any of this once you return, so there is no point in confusing you. It might do more harm than good. There is a time and place for all knowledge.”

…

… …I don’t… understand.

“You don’t have to. Just hurry back home. Look, I’ll show you the right way.”

Wait…

…

“Hm. I do wish I could send a message with you to him, now that I happened to notice you. I would have liked to meet you, but it doesn’t seem to be possible. I am… very tied up dealing with some things at my end. But I will find a way, so you just work on the problems you face and trust me.”

…

What are you… talking about?

“Hurry up now, get going. You’re running out of time.”

Wait… don’t…

.

Ganyu hesitated for a moment before she could not stop herself any longer and wrapped her fingers around the cold hand that refused to warm up at her touch. “Rex Lapis? Rex Lapis, please,” she whispered. When there was once again no answer or change, she found her forehead pressing down against the fingers as well. “You have to come back. My lord, I beg of you. The poison is gone. The person who did this to you has been caught. It took some time, but the healers have managed to heal all the damage that was done. Now we only need you.” The body before her on the bed was weakening. “Please, my lord. Please, come back to us.” But there was nothing they could do.

.

…

Follow the trail…

… …she said.

How…

…

… …

How can I tell?

How do I… move?

Back…

Home…

…

….  …What happened to me?

…Why am I here?

…

Where is… the trail…

…

…Who were you?

Please… help me.

…

It's so…

… …Nothing…

There is nothing…

Help me…

…

Help me.

…

…Don’t leave me here.

I want to go home.

To… …them.

To…

…Light reached out to him like sunlight descending towards him through a bright, sparkling gem. Where all other colour or spark he had seen had pushed him away and left him to drift in nothingness, this one grabbed onto him, pulled him towards itself like gravity.

And suddenly there was colour. There was feeling. There was warmth. It was disorienting: everything melted into blur that his mind struggled to understand. The contrast against the nothingness and darkness was so stark it pushed all of his memories of the former out of him like repelling a curse. What was left behind, was confusion.

What was going on?

His senses returned one by one, allowing him to assess where he was. The first one to return was his sense of touch, perhaps because it was overwhelmed by a presence of another, who held on to him so tightly it seemed desperate.

“There you are,” Morax said quietly and let out a shivering breath. “Welcome back.”

Chapter Text

Morax sat cross-legged at the edge of the wooden walkway, closing his eyes to the grey evening he had settled for in the garden beyond. Despite the dullness of colour making the scenery feel unwelcoming, he let the memories of the gentle warmth of an evening sun fill the space and surround him and the ever-still waypoint, while they both waited for his vessel to return. He had stood guard by the edge of the void, waiting for days, but found no sign of Zhongli’s mind. If he wandered back close enough, Morax could spot him and pull him back using the tether between their souls. But with him unable to leave the weakening body he inhabited behind, it was akin to shouting out from the shore towards the ocean, hoping a drowning person would hear and swim back on their own.

But he held on to faith. He would keep the body alive as long as he could and wait. Even if shouting out into the darkness was all he could do, as mad as he was with himself for that, he would not give up. And he hoped, that Zhongli would not give up either. But the odds of him finding his way back on his own were exceedingly low. And with body succumbing deeper and closer to the looming edge of no return, they were running out of time.

The sound of music brought him a little out of his meditative thoughts.

Music?

Oh: he had started reminiscing again, of course. This was not a song the adepti outside would play. His mind returned to the memories of old whenever he had time to wallow on things.

Morax opened his eyes to blink at the documents spread on the calligraphy table and on the floor around him. Land reform proposals and some permits he needed to go through.  Ah, so it was this memory his subconscious had decided to recall this time. No wonder the music sounded a bit off-key at times and restarted on a missed note. The initial score had only been finished and she had been practicing: looking for ways to improve it.

“Hey, Morax?”

He watched himself raise his gaze from the lines on paper to the goddess sitting on the cushion across the room, her fingers fiddling and running against the pegs of the zither she had been playing to tune the sound.

“What do you think gives something value?” Guizhong asked curiously, test-plucking the strings.

Morax felt himself frown and raise an eyebrow at her. “Is it not a combination of many things? Materials, labour, techniques. Or are you perchance looking for an answer like ‘sentimentality’ or ‘story’? Immaterial things have to rely on immaterial promises, but labour and effort are usually still a factor in those cases. Stories for instance do not tell themselves and can easily lose value when told without the required skill or commitment. Why do you ask?”

“Hm. I’ve just been thinking about it,” Guizhong admitted and let the instrument rest on her lap. “What you said was my first thought as well, but I’m not entirely sure its accurate. I think there is more to it. But I knew you’d probably answer with that,” she sighed.

“If you knew what I would say, why would you ask me?”

“Because I’m not looking for a right or wrong answer here, I’m trying to have a conversation,” she explained and leant her hand against the cushion behind her, her legs shuffling against the woven fabric as she readjusted herself now that she wasn’t playing.

“I see,” Morax heard himself reply before his eyes fell back to the paperwork spread in front of him. Even his impeccable memory could not conjure up the exact details on the documents: he remembered what they had been about and what had caused him to approve or disapprove each, so what he actually saw while his eyes scanned the pages was more akin to summaries of the contents he had read back then. Had he allowed his memory to drift away from the moment, he could have taken a more detailed look on what each one of them had brought about after his eventual answers.

Hearing light tapping of a finger against strings, he raised his eyes again to look at his co-ruler. Guizhong was looking at him, with her lips puckered into an increasingly frustrated pout.

“Ah,” his memory uttered when he understood her expectant gaze. He always told her that if she wanted to talk, he would listen, but she had started expecting more complementarity from him recently. Fine, he’d humour her. “What do you think gives something value?”

Guizhong’s face lit up brightly. He had always liked her smile. “Opinions!” the goddess enthusiastically grabbed onto the line of connection he offered her.

Morax frowned. Did she have to look so proud of herself for managing to confuse him?

“Think about,” Guizhong started elaborating, her voice taking on the tone that he knew meant they would be here for a while. “Even if you made something from the best materials and used days and days of work to turn those into the best thing you had ever made, if no one wants to buy it, it’ll have no value.”

“The inherit price of the materials and time will not decrease even so.”

“That’s only if we think of value from the more monetary standpoint,” Guizhong argued relentlessly, clearly enjoying herself. “Say you’re an inventor who made something new for the farmers of a village, but in the end, none of them think it’s worth its price. But you still have to make ends meet and sell your invention. It is likely one of two things will happen.”

Morax nodded, but she paused again to look at him with those eyes again until he sighed and spoke up. “The two things being?”

“Well, for one, you can agree with their opinion on the invention. Maybe you’ll modify it or lower the prize until they are willing to buy it. Meaning that you lower the invention’s existing value in your eyes to their level,” Guizhong continued happily, taking the zither and placing it on the table next to her so that she could stand up. “Or two, you decide that ‘no, they’re wrong! This invention is useful and I’ll prove it to them!’” Did she have to put so much soul into acting the lines? “Which will raise your idea of its value instead, because you’re willing to put more work into it, so they will understand and appreciate your invention as is. Doesn’t that make sense?” she asked, walking over to him and started moving the papers next to him aside.

“I suppose,” his memory replied, taking some papers out of her way to place them on the table.

“And think of it this way!” Guizhong eagerly came up with another example. “If you saw something on the market but didn’t think much of, but then I started talking about how much I liked or wanted it, wouldn’t my opinion raise your idea of the item’s value?”

Morax felt himself frown as he watched her sit down beside him. “I might at least put more thought into its merits and be more willing to obtain it.”

“Buy, Morax, not obtain.”

“Of course,” he relented, though more often than not, his people did not want anything in return from him if he was interested in something. “But I am not convinced that it would necessarily raise the item’s value in my eyes.” Guizhong tilted her head at him as he looked down to meet her eyes. “What I value in that scenario is not the object you desire but your opinion on it. I might not understand the item any more than before, but I do see the merit in making you happy.”

Guizhong blinked at him for a couple of seconds, before she hid her mouth behind her sleeve and started to giggle.

“Is that so strange?” Morax asked, trying to read her and failing.

“No, I like your point,” Guizhong chuckled and leant their shoulders against each other, pulling her legs up close under herself. Although he did not think of it back then, Morax now couldn’t help but watch her knees almost hit against the legs of the table and think they would’ve been more comfortable had he gone to her instead to sit on the pillows. She should have asked: he would’ve moved. But she never did, not back this early. “And it brings us nicely to the matter of the value given to people by others. The value of a person can’t be judged by materials or money.”

“There are many cultures that have a set monetary practice for appraising the value and selling humans and other races,” Morax noted, only for her to start pouting.

“Yes, but I don’t like it.”

“I do not support the practice any more than you. I simply thought I should point that out now that we’re talking about the subject.”

Guizhong sighed, sounding melancholic. “You’re right. But I don’t think their estimations can ever be accurate. What I meant here, was how your opinion of someone or yourself can change based on the opinions of others. But I think it’s like you said before: the cost of making something or the value of its materials doesn’t go down just because someone doesn’t want to buy it. That’s why I don’t think an opinion can truly lower a person’s value. It just changes your perception of it.”

Morax thought for a moment on what to say. “I grade the value of a person based on the effort and work they are willing to put in for things that matter. As the God of Contracts, I also judge their ability to keep their word and the length they are willing to go to keep their end of the contract.”

“That’s because you’re a progress-orientated workaholic,” Guizhong accused and poked his side. “Not everything can be measured in skills or results. Your view of things is so objective at times.”

“This brings us back to the point about sentimentality.” Morax let her poke him without flinching. “You are more skilled in the ‘subjective’ opinion department, as you often see fit to remind me.”

“You could stand to be less dense and hard at times.”

“That is an odd thing to say to a god ruling over geo.”

“You don’t need to be a rock to rule over them.”

His memory hummed thoughtfully and looked down at the top of the head she leant against him. For a moment they sat in silence and Morax knew he would not be the one to break it unless some outside influence prompted him.

“Now that I think about it…” Guizhong started muttering after a time. “My example about the inventor sort of works with people as well.” She gave him a moment to grunt a reply, encouraging her to continue. “If you hear someone bad mouthing another, you’d either agree and further bring down that person’s value in the eyes of others, or start to argue back to defend them to try and raise it. Or I suppose you could just ignore the thing. Say that ‘this invention is not for me anyway: I don’t need to bother with the argument’,” she pondered, deep in thought. “No, maybe that’s a bit too much of a simplification.”

“Is it?” he asked, knowing she had the habit of making things more complicated than he found the need to. Then again, they both agreed she was the wise one between them. “You either do or do not defend the things you find value in, which reflects on your own value. That is all there is to it.”

“Spoken like a true guardian,” Guizhong laughed and looked up at him. “Now if you just learnt some defence techniques that don’t involve bonking things with a spear,” she teased.

“Was that not what I have you for? But must you call it ‘bonking’?”

“You’re not denying your lack of finesse?”

“I’ve learnt not to argue that point with you and you have no intention of letting me forget it.” He watched her chuckle before bringing their talk back on topic. “As much as I see your point about opinions effecting the value of something, you overcomplicate the matter. If you find something to be of value, you work for it and protect it. If someone disagrees with you, you must deal with them decisively enough that they either see your point or leave you alone. That or you continue without caring about their riffraff.”

Morax felt like laughing at his past self. He had viewed some things to be so simple back then.

“Straight as an arrow, at times,” Guizhong accused softly and rested her head back down against his shoulder. “Not everyone is as strong as you. It can take but one opinion to break someone and make them lose their way. What then?”

Before Morax could hear his answer, the memory was snuffed out from manifesting around him and his concentration returned fully to the present. His alertness had risen, like a fisherman seeing a ripple around the bobber they had cast into the water. Deep down beneath the surface, there was a spark of life that tugged at his soul like searching for something to grab on. Morax plunged his hand into the dark water in a heartbeat, not waiting for the fish to get caught in the hook he had left out, and grasped onto it to pull it ashore before it could slip away and disappear.

Turning to see the waypoint he had prepared shiver and start breathing, was one of the most hopeful sights he remembered seeing in ages. As the mind slowly returned and tried to settle back in, Morax raised the no longer limp form into his arms from the floor to hold Zhongli close. For moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the presence that had returned to him and feel the return of colour to this inner world as the body welcomed back its true owner. He felt the weight of anxiety let go when he finally experienced this moment after days of silence.

“I knew you could do it,” he whispered to his vessel, although he was likely too loosely present to hear him still. It was also somewhat of a lie: he had not known. He had hoped, but been too keenly aware how unlikely this result was. But somehow Zhongli had—

His eyes snapped wide as he recognized a touch of something else on the manifested mind that he held tightly against himself as if to never let it slip away again. It was a faint, waning trail, disappearing back into the darkness where he had reached out to pull Zhongli back home. Distant but so familiar, sensing it was like another weight rolling off his shoulders.

“I see,” he muttered and closed his eyes to watch the bright green trail retract back into the void. “Thank you, friend. I am in your debt.” When things would settle, he reminded himself to visit Irminsul like he had intended. But until his vessel was safe and sound again, his colleague would have to wait. The form in his arms stirred and flinched as Zhongli regained coherence enough to open his eyes. “There you are,” Morax breathed out, letting himself be overtaken by relief for just a moment. Just having someone hear his voice again was a more amazing feeling than it should have. “Welcome back.”

“Mo… rax…” Zhongli whispered, recognizing him.

Morax watched him closely as they both adjusted to his return. He quickly turned the time around them to night so it would not be as bright on the eyes. Although it had no real effect if the mind was fully in charge, any form of reflexive discomfort from things like bright lights or loud sounds could make things more difficult. A serene, warm and quiet night: it would be better for now.

“I’m here,” Morax promised and loosened his hold to give his vessel some space. “My apologies. I could not stop myself from welcoming you back. You’ve been gone for quite some time.” He lowered Zhongli back to the walkway, where he had spread a comfortable mat for him to lie on.

Zhongli was clearly disorientated and Morax could feel it as well. He sat on the edge of the walkway, one foot hanging off the side, and lowered his hand to rest on top of Zhongli’s forehead, hoping the touch would aid him in giving his vessel a sense of comfort. Panicking was not something they wanted to trigger now that he was finally back.

“I… was…” Zhongli tried to speak, but he was sluggish and struggled to get a better understanding of his surroundings still. “What happened? Morax…”

“It’s alright. Don’t push yourself,” Morax assured, soothing the mind with his presence. “You soul dived and have been lost for a while. It’ll take a moment to reorient yourself. That is entirely natural.”

Zhongli closed his eyes briefly but tightly, trying to do as he was told, but Morax could see the exact moment he remembered the circumstances that had brought this about. “I was…” Zhongli gasped and his breathing quickened and strained slightly as he stared into the ceiling. “The poison…”

“You’ve been cured. That venom will not torture you anymore,” Morax alleviated the fear, watching Zhongli’s eyes shiver back and forth with whatever specific thing from those long five hours he was remembering. “We’ve won. You won. We were only waiting for you to wake up.”

“So then… this…” Zhongli’s eyes shut tight as the situation was sinking in properly, together with what had brought it about and his body shivered. “Morax, I…” Morax listened silently as his voice shattered at the edges. “Please. I don’t think… I can do this.”

Morax took a slow breath, steadying himself. He had expected this. “Two years.” Still, their agreement was clear. “That was my promise to you.” He watched the wide blown eyes turn towards himself, first in shock, then a brief moment of pleading, before they resigned to their contract and closed again. Morax closed his own as well, knowing he was asking for a lot. But he was the God of Contracts and as his vessel, Zhongli was equally obligated to adhere to the weight his promises held. “As soon as your mind is stable, I will send you back to your body. But for now, you need to calm down and relax.”

Zhongli flinched and Morax could see the muscles around his body twitch in response to whatever memory was rushing its way back from the experience that had forced his mind to flee. He leant back in closer and did his best to steer him away from the discomfort.

Zhongli glanced at him, before turning his head away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a while.

“Why do you apologise?”

“You told me not to give up. …But I did.”

Morax shook his head. “It is I who should apologise to you. I promised to help and be there for you. But concentrated as I was on aiding your body in that battle, I neglected to take your mental state into account. You have done nothing wrong in my eyes, but seeing as you might be unwilling to simply accept that, what say you we apologise to each other now, and then move on together.”

“It was like… seeing an open door. A door out from a room full of fire,” Zhongli tried to make sense of the hazy moments that made up his last memories before this. “I did not stop to consider what was on the other side of it. I just had to get out.”

“I understand. That is why I am not blaming you. You’re here now: that’s what matters to me,” Morax said, satisfied with how Zhongli was getting stable enough to talk now. He reached out to turn him to lie on his side and started arranging his hands and feet. When Zhongli was clearly confused, he elaborated. “This is the position your body is currently resting in. I’d prefer to take as much time as you need here first to recover from your experiences, but we do not have that kind luxury. Your body needs you back. It is better now that you’ve returned to me, but the sooner you get fully back, the better. Everyone has been anxiously waiting for you to wake up. Best not keep the adepti waiting any longer, or they will smother your every move for the next two years.” In all honesty, they already might and Morax couldn’t even blame them.

“What does that have to do with how I lie?” Zhongli asked. Despite that he now spoke in full sentences, Morax was displeased with how hoarse and tired his voice sounded. There were no real physical ailments to this form, so whatever discomfort Zhongli felt, it was leaking this way from his body. The connection was still weak, but Morax knew that he was sending this tired mind to another very uncomfortable situation.

“The connection between your mind and your body has been weakened and your memories are hazy,” Morax explained and hooked his hand behind Zhongli’s knee to pull it to the right position. “The less disassociation you feel upon returning, the better. This will help minimize the effect.” He finished placing all the limbs where they needed to be and set his hand back to press gently against the hair. “It won’t be comfortable and I’m sorry I have to put you through it. But it must be done. The adepti and I will do all we can to help you. This time for sure. I will not let you down again.”

Zhongli didn’t respond, only shifted slightly under his hand, closing his eyes. Despite Morax’s efforts, his expression spoke of mostly stress and warring feelings.

“Listen to me,” Morax spoke more quietly, but kept his tone firm and clear. “I can tell how you’re feeling and know what you’re thinking. But remember this: you have every right to not be okay. Far simpler things have broken people than attempted murder. Yet you’re here: alive and willing to try. If there is something you feel you need to recover or something you think might help, anything at all: ask. Can you promise me that?”

Zhongli’s breath shivered and he bit his teeth together, his jaw clenching tightly as Morax waited for him to reply. “…Alright.”

Morax let out a little breath, trying to relax and ready himself for what was to come. “Good. I know you can get through this. You survived the torture of the poison and made your way back home through the void. Take pride in yourself for that.” The veil spread around at his call, softly calling Zhongli to return. Morax was more careful about it than usual as to not cause the body waiting for them any further distress. Strain was another thing they needed to avoid at the moment at all cost.

“Morax…” A whisper brought the god’s attention back from the call of the body. Zhongli’s eyes were open again and he stared into the mist thickening behind Morax. Now that the door back to his body had been opened, he vividly felt just how tired it was. “Why did you choose me?”

Not having expected the question, Morax took a deep, slow breath, quietly watching as his vessel was resigning himself for whatever was to come. Right. He supposed it had never been directly discussed between them. He had not brought it up, because it had seemed like Zhongli had been afraid to know the answer. He likely still was.

“It’s not a clear-cut explanation, unlike in some cases. I did not expect to have to change vessels after all. Usually, I have more time to figure out if there is a specific skillset or speciality that would benefit Liyue at that moment. I had already scouted you out as a suitable candidate, but as to why I chose you when the time came…” Morax recounted carefully, thinking back to the time he had floated about alone after the death of his last vessel, trying to decide who to put his trust in: who he thought could shoulder the situation, if he didn’t manage it by himself. “If I had to name one thing, it would be stability. I saw you as someone who could stay calm and rational, even in the times of uncertainty and turmoil. You were determined to see any task you were given through and had both the fortitude to do so yourself, as well as the skills to direct and lead others effectively. I have not seen any fault in my initial assessments so far,” he added, knowing Zhongli would likely argue about some of the point he made, if not most of them.

He looked at the way his vessel’s eyes had slightly widened again while he talked, and Zhongli was visibly holding back a remark. Perhaps he was just too overwhelmed or tired to speak up again.

Morax sighed. “But… there is another reason.” Zhongli looked up at him and Morax’s shoulders slumped down a little as he averted the gaze. “It’s a more selfish one, from my part. It’s… about the adepti,” he admitted. “In the beginning, the adepti were the only servants Rex Lapis had. But times have changed.” He wondered if he could point out the exact time it started to shift if he tried. “For the past couple of centuries, the emperors have rarely interacted with the adepti outside of official matters and all of them have chosen human servants and aides. At some point, the adepti were no longer Rex Lapis’ hands and feet, but special counsellors, only called upon in dire need.” After a pause, Morax met Zhongli’s gaze again. “It was the choice my vessels made, so I did not complain. But when I found you, I couldn’t help but hope you might be someone who could find a way to abridge that divide between my vessels and the adepti again. You revered them like many others, but you were also knowledgeable of our traditions and history, with a keen will to learn more. You didn’t honour them simply because someone else told you to, but because you tried to understand. I will admit to being selfish in hoping that might lead you to spend some more time with them.”

Morax let a moment of silence pass between them, giving Zhongli an opportunity to reply now, but his vessel’s eyes had left his again and stared into the white, slowly moving mist that disappeared into the night outside.

“I will send you back now,” Morax continued when it became clear to him Zhongli wasn’t going to comment on his answer. “We can talk again later, once you have properly recovered. For now, focus on healing. You’ve earned it.”

The mist around Zhongli tightened and he felt his eyes close, heavy with sleep. The pull was gentle this time and he was lifted up from the space within much slower than usual. It did not take the whole trip back however, for him to realise in how bad shape his body was in. The moment he was fully back, he understood and thanked Morax’s foresight to lie him down in the same position as his body was. He felt so disconnected and foreign that if he had not simply closed his eyes to one scenery and opened them to another, he might have thought he had ended up in the wrong place.

His eyes felt heavy and he heard a rush of blood in his ears like his heart had jumped in surprise at his return. For a moment, he could not focus or keep his eyes open for long. They refused to open wider than a small slit at a time. His right hand rested against the mattress close to his head and it took a moment for him to figure out that Ganyu was next to him, laying her upper body down on the bed with her feet on the floor, holding his hand in her own while she slept against the crook of her elbow. As Zhongli tried to see better from under his drooping eyelids, his sense of touch started to catch up with him and he could feel the weight and warmth of her hand in his.

Seeing the dried-up stains running down her cheeks, Zhongli tried to move his hand to rub them away on instinct, but his fingers barely flinched against hers. But the soft tap his fingertips managed against the skin of her arm was enough to cause Ganyu to stir. She made a small sound at waking up and shifted, her eyes fluttering and quickly clearing up any sleep to assess her surroundings. But when she looked at him and saw his eyes looking back, she disregarded everything else that might have been happening around her.

“Rex Lapis…?” she asked with a squeak and shot up from her resting position to her knees. Her hand closed tightly around his as she realised she wasn’t seeing things. A thin, half supressed wail escaped from her throat as she curled up against the side of the bed and let the trails on her cheeks get wet again, hiding them against the mattress next to him.

Zhongli heard movement and a questioning voice from behind him and the mattress dipped when someone climbed on it behind his back. “Rex Lapis? Oh, thank the archons… haahhh…” The breathed-out relief and released pressure in the voice was tangible and hand clutched against his shoulder, while he felt another hover against his hair.

“Thank you,” Ganyu sobbed and her other hand clutched tightly around the edge of the quilt pulled up under Zhongli’s shoulders. “Thank you, my lord.”

Zhongli tried to answer and assure them that he was fine, but unfortunately, he was very much not fine and unable to lie about it. He was fast becoming more and more aware of just how awful he felt and his body flinched and shivered in response to the returning feeling, that he could best describe as simply a complete and utter NO.

“Welcome back, my lord,” the person behind him talked, the voice getting garbled up a little in Zhongli’s ears as he struggled to exist. Or at least that what it felt like. “Please, talk to me: I want to help. How are you feeling?”

Zhongli breathed out a gasp from his lungs and half expected to see it form a plume of vapor in the air. “…Cold,” he managed to respond, while his body in vain tried to curl up on itself to warm up.

“That’s understandable. Your body temperature has lowered several degrees while you were gone. A normal human would be dying to hypothermia about now. But you will not, I promise,” he heard an explanation, but wasn’t entirely able to concentrate on it. The hands on him were spreading warmth around his body from where they touched. The difference was so stark it burned. “Ganyu,” the voice urged the adeptus who had started tugging the sheets to better cover him. “Pull yourself together and go alert the others.”

There was a sharp sound of wind in the room. “What is going— Rex Lapis?!” Xiao took a step closer towards the bed and reached out his hand, but during the period Zhongli took to blink a few times, the yaksha first stopped and then retreated away.

“Alatus, the other healers, quickly.”

There was small grunt and then another sound of wind. Zhongli tried to focus on the things happening around him, but it was hard over the overwhelming sensation of feeling. He couldn’t think of another way to even begin to describe it. Besides that it was like he was outside in the dead of Snezhnayan winter without clothing, his body was overwhelmingly aware of everything. It didn’t hurt, not much anyway, but it was like all of his nerves had flared to life and were constantly sending him signals of just “things”. Weight. Pressure. Warmth. Cold. Shivering. The involuntary twitches of his muscles. Blood flowing beneath the skin like a rushing torrent. Just everything.

“You’re going to be alright, Rex Lapis. Breath deep for me.”

Zhongli tried to follow the instruction to the best of his ability. Ganyu’s hand had let go of his so his fingers clenched against air only.

“You’re doing great.” Someone new came to his side and a new blanket was suddenly adding on to the weight on top of his legs while the new pair of hands joined the others in spreading warmth against his skin. “Your body is waking up from its hibernation and starting back up all its processes. It will pass soon and then you will feel much better.”

Zhongli was pretty sure he nodded in response, but it might have just been in his head. After a moment longer of being drowned under whatever this feeling was, he blacked out: falling unconscious at the insistent pull of tiredness that radiated around his body and weighed on his eyes.

But the moment of oblivion did not last long: Morax told him it had only been around forty minutes when his eyes opened again. Someone was holding onto his face and rubbing circles under his eyes with their thumbs as his came back to consciousness. “He’s back.” Wave Soother…

“Can you hear us, my lord?” the first voice behind his shoulder asked. “Can you tell who I am?”

His body felt a little less alarmed now and the worst of the shivering had stopped, although he was still extremely cold. “Xiánshen,” he mumbled a reply, realising he had trouble speaking without a slight slur, but he could at least make a better effort to grasp at his surroundings now.

“Yes. And can you tell where you are?”

“…The palace. In the bedroom.”

“Excellent,” Xiánshen praised him, relieved. “Are his eyes focused?”

Wave Soother’s eyes were peering into his own and her fingers splayed against his skin to help him keep his eyes open. “Yes. I think he’s mostly with us now.” Her tense concentration melted into a smile. “Welcome back, your majesty,” she said softly and let her hand linger by his cheek for a moment, before she retreated away to make room for another.

“Good morning,” Madame Ping said as she sat down on the edge of the bed before him. Zhongli wondered just how many adepti exactly were in this room with him at the moment. “Although it is the middle of the day,” she added and took his hand to rest between hers, gently curling the fingers against her own and warming them up. “You slept quite late.”

Now that he could think more clearly, Zhongli could better see the expressions around him and felt a coil of guilt inside him. “How long… has it been?” he asked slowly. His throat was dry and the fatigue from earlier had barely dissipated.

Ping’s fingers rubbed against the back of his own. “This is the fifth day since you lost consciousness, your majesty. We’ve been…” She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “…eagerly awaiting your return.”

Five days…

Zhongli recoiled a little and tried to take a deep breath, but it wavered a little both in and out. According to what Morax’s side of things was telling him, by the time he had given up and soul dived… “I’ve let… everyone down.” The fingers rubbing against his stopped. In the back of his mind, he heard Morax sigh. But what else what he supposed to say? “You never gave up on me, but I couldn’t…” He stopped to cough a little, having talked too much in one go for his throat. It granted him the opportunity to not finish the sentence, because he wasn’t sure how. “I made you worry. And the Rite had to… be postponed... again.” The people had waited for it for so long and look at him now. How many times had he been confined to bed (or the floor) the past month because he couldn’t even get up? “I’m sorry.”

“Please do not act like this is your fault, Rex Lapis,” a new voice from somewhere in the room said and Zhongli recognized it as Mountain Shaper. “It would be no different from accusing the victim for an assault. We are merely happy you have returned to us.”

He supposed that was true. It was not like he had wanted this.

<Exactly.>

But—

<No. No buts. You are not to blame in this. And our worry is ours to give. Or do you intend to accuse people for caring?>

Zhongli had to admit Morax had a point. “No,” he muttered a reply.

“No, Rex Lapis, please: you cannot blame yourself for this,” Ganyu begged from behind Ping.

Wait that’s not… whoops. He had replied to Morax aloud again….

“It is us who have failed to keep you safe on repeated occasions,” Bosacius was the one speaking up now. Again, how many adepti were with him in this room exactly?

<It’s nine.>

That many? At least this proved the room was large enough to comfortably host a dozen people.

“My lord?” Madame Ping asked and her fingers touched his chin to have him open his eyes again and look up at her warm smile. “There is something I would like to show you. But you should rest a little more first and recover your strength. Is there anything you’d require from us to help you relax? Are you in any pain?”

Zhongli let his eyes fall close again, struggling to stay awake a while longer. He shook his head against the pillow, a little stiffly. He’d be fine.

<Ask,> Morax reminded him strictly of his promise.

“Can I have some water?”

“Of course!” Ganyu replied and was about to sprint out when a rasp of wind against the air told Zhongli that Xiao had beat her to it.

“I’m sorry. We’ve staved off the worst of any hunger by giving your body energy directly, but it makes sense your throat would be parched,” Xiánshen admitted. Zhongli heard the healer’s mechanical hand click a little against its joints as she set it softly against his throat to offer some relief to the ache inside. “We will have proper food prepared for you, once you’ve slept some more. Your body will thank you for getting at least something to do after its deep slumber.”

After being helped to a half a glass of water, Zhongli fell back asleep. He had trouble resting peacefully however, so waking up to have a few words with the adepti before falling unconscious again became the norm for the rest of the day. His body was sluggish and sleeping didn’t seem to do much to his energy levels, although both the healers and Morax insisted it was helping. The adepti would help him change his position, to rest perhaps on his other side or a little more upright, but he lacked the strength to move much on his own. He was also given little bits of easily digestible food or more things to drink, which gave his body a better signal to start working again than sleeping did. The most positive change he himself felt during the day was that his body slowly warmed up again, although it had a lot of steady climbing to do before it would be completely normal.

His inability to sleep was discomforting. At most he slept about one and half hours at a time, before something would force him to wake up. He was stuck in a state where he desperately wanted to sleep more and rest, but his body was too high-strung and alert to allow it, like there was forced adrenaline bumping through his veins. Being awake also allowed him more time to think, which he did not appreciate at the moment. He’d much rather have concentrated on getting better, before the emotional turmoil would eventually take over. Most of the adepti came to talk or simply be with him during the day, which helped him to distract himself. They were incredibly relieved to see him conscious again, as well as often felt guilty and angry for what had happened. From them, Zhongli heard many titbits of information about what had happened while he had been lost: what had happened immediately after, how they had searched for the antidote or the culprit. The latter, Zhongli was horrified to hear them explain, but didn’t have the energy to object about it loudly. When the yaksha explained their plan in more detail, he understood their actions better, but still was left with a realisation he had a lot to deal with when he’d get better. Not the least of which was punishing the man who currently was in the adepti’s custody for attempted murder.

The healers spoke with him the most, which allowed him to better understand, what was going on with his body. Magical healing could only help the body against ailments that the body knew how to heal. It was a way to grant the body extra energy and materials to heal at a rapid rate: which was why the healers could not deal with a poison the body did not know how to counter. At the height of their battle, when one of them was constantly protecting the muscles vital to his survival and the others needing to both divide their attention and conserve their energy because they did not know how long it all would take, they had started making concessions. When the antidote had taken effect and started to combat the poison, his body had been given a recipe to analyse, teaching him how to heal itself. Thus, the healers had been finally able to attack the intruding substance directly.

He also heard a hypothesis as to why was his entire body currently so oversensitive. The poison’s effects had essentially overcharged and inflamed his nervous system with the amount of impulses that had ran through them. Because he had then essentially fallen into an unnaturally deep coma, the nerves had not relaxed properly after their ordeal and still responded to stimuli too eagerly for comfort. The only way for his nerves to stop overworking was to relax and give them time, now that his body was returning to normal.

But some of his problems were more deep-rooted than others, even with the healer’s help. They tested it a few times during the day, when he was awake for more than a few minutes, but lying on his back caused his whole body to tingle uncomfortably. He also had no upper body strength, which he realised whenever he tried to sit up and couldn’t. His hands would shake against the mattress at the effort to keep his body upright and his back muscles downright refused to co-operate sometimes, relaxing mid movement without his say-so. All of this, the healers told him would subside with time, reminding him that he had been awake for only a few hours and that rest was his best option right now. Zhongli understood their explanation and agreed, but when he for the third time that day felt his hand give out from under him, causing him to slump back down against the arms of others, he felt like he would never get over this.

There was also another distinct, looming problem they were made aware of by Morax after some time: Zhongli’s human body was at its physical limit to receive power from him. Without the god, he would have long since died, if not to the poison, then to the soul dive. Morax’s presence was still supporting him, but any power Zhongli would actively attempt to use, even to just boost his stamina or strength, would likely trigger the strain. And in this state, his body would not welcome it: even less than usual, that is. Hopefully there would not be a need to for him to do anything, but Morax still cautioned him against getting any ideas and had him warn the adepti to not rely on his ability to recover or defend himself if need be. Right now, he was very much at the total mercy of others. He could only thank the stars that he was with people who wanted his best.

When he opened his eyes yet again after an hour or so of attempted rest, night had already fallen outside the curtains that had stayed closed to protect him from the harsh sunlight that might have further disrupted him. Madame Ping was sitting next to him again, turning her eyes to him when he stirred and a gentle expression adorned her face when she watched him blink himself awake with a grunt of objection he could not hold back. The periods he could sleep had shown signs of increasing slightly during the day. By tomorrow, he was hoping he’d manage more consistent attempts.

“Hopefully you can leave this restlessness behind you soon,” Madame Ping echoed his own thoughts. “Do you suppose I could trouble you for a few minutes or would you rather go straight back to sleep, your majesty?”

Zhongli grunted groggily in agreement. “I can manage a while. What do you need from me?”

“Need? Oh goodness: no. I was only hoping to ease your worries,” the elderly adeptus corrected him and pulled back the edge of the thick sheets on top of him, allowing her to take his hand out to pat it. “Do you remember me saying before, that there was something I wanted to show you? If you’re willing, I could do so now, if you join me.”

“Join you?”

Madame Ping nodded and looked over towards the window, using his hand to point at it to help him focus on the right thing in his half-awake state. “Just over on the divan by the window.”

Zhongli was slightly confused, but trusted her. Except for the bothered feeling that flushed over him when he tried to get up, only to be met with denial. “I can’t—”

“I’m not expecting you to make your way over on your own,” Ping quickly stopped him, after he bit his teeth in frustration, and looked around the room to some other adepti. “We will help you move over, if you’ll allow it.”

Zhongli sighed (mostly at himself), but nodded, letting Storm Chaser and Wave Soother cautiously pick him up and lift him away from the bed. He was feeling significantly warmer now than earlier today, but he was only wearing some loose clothing meant to allow him his decency while the healers could still easily access any part of his body they needed, so he was thankful they kept a quilt wrapped around him. From the vantage point on the healers’ arms, he could see that two of the yaksha were also in the room still, but kept their distance, their expressions soldierly stern.

The divan was meant for comfortably lounging in the sun while looking at the scenery, and almost served as a welcome change of pace from the bed. His position on it was a little more upright, so it was easier for him to look around while the healers were making sure he was comfortable. It required them some manoeuvring to rest him a position his back could handle.

His eyes landed on the side table between him and the window and he frowned. “What are those?”

Ping followed his gaze to the simple arrangement of dried flowers next to a neat assortment of cornbread snacks on a plate and she smiled, turning to look at Xiao, who stepped closer.

“A friend of yours wanted you to have them,” the yaksha explained, averting his eyes to the floor when Zhongli looked at him. “The young chef from the restaurant you frequent. She told me they’re flowers from the Rite of Parting she had as keepsake and she hoped they would help guide you home. There is no basis on her assumption but I saw no harm on it. And the cornbread…” he hesitated before admitting. “I’m pretty sure her companion just thought you might like them.”

Zhongli turned back to look at the flowers and the snacks, too astonished to pay attention to Storm Chaser telling him to avoid hard snacks still and eat them later as they were the type that would keep well. He did remember Xiangling telling him she had kept a few of the flowers scattered on the streets, saying that the they had felt special for her. She shouldn’t have…

Wait a minute… Zhongli’s eyes shot back to look at Xiao. “She knows who I am?”

Xiao nodded. “She guessed based on her association with the director of the Funeral Parlor.”

…Ah. That makes sense, Zhongli sighed a little and laid his head back against the pillow behind him. Yet another person he’d have to see to make sure would not worry for him. Or two, he supposed, counting Guoba. At least Hu Tao had someone to support her then. If the previous occasions were of any indication, he had likely managed to make her feel miserable again.

“You worried about making people wait for the Rite of Ascension earlier, my lord,” Madame Ping started talking again and waited for Zhongli’s attention before continuing. “It is the public opinion I wish to talk with you about.”

Zhongli immediately felt more tired than he already was and turned his head to look at the flowers to help block out the mix of memories and preconceptions of words and looks that started lashing at his mind. Usually, he was fairly resistant to such things: able to rationalize and compartmentalize them into harmless banter. During the council meeting, for instance, he had taken the scrutiny and kept his cool, more than he perhaps should have, honestly, and he realised that better now. He should hammer it into his head that he did not only need to protect his own honour but Morax’s as well. He always dealt with any inner turmoil on his own, not in front of others. It had been enough of a hurdle to accept that Morax was now constantly aware of it. Right now, he was fairly certain he couldn’t keep any emotions off his face, mentally and physically.

“Some time after the Rite of Ascension was postponed, the Tianquan told your story to the people.” Zhongli’s breath got stuck in his throat, but Madame Ping only gently smiled at the look of anxiety-laced shock he gave her. “She told them, how after the death of our divine ruler, one common man was suddenly faced with the responsibility to fight off an unseen enemy. How that man then stepped up and started working in the shadows to protect us from a looming threat, while being forced to hide as to not meet the same fate as his predecessor. Until finally, after weeks of hidden battle, war could be waged and the enemy was held responsible for what they had done.” She came closer and softly put her hand over his once more, when she saw how distressed he was to hear this. “And the man who had made it possible stood by the soldiers both during the battle and after it: determined to see as few people as possible come to harm, while he could prevent it.”

Zhongli was struggling to process what he was hearing. Ningguang… what have you done? What kind of tale had she spun? No doubt one that told the people nothing of how much he had actually struggled and erred to get anything done. Or how much he had had to leave up to Morax entirely because it was too far out of his league. Just what kind of image was she making him live up to? This was not the type of pressure he could process at the moment.

“Her words alleviated the public’s concerns,” Madame Ping explained, and pat his hand, but he pulled it out away and slowly lifted it up over his face to cover up his struggles. “Mind you, she did not tell a single lie. But she would not be where she is today, if not for her skill to impact people’s opinions with her words. She holds the public’s adoration and they trust her judgement. She is a powerful ally to have. What I am trying to say, my lord, is that she is on your side.”

“It doesn’t feel like it…” Zhongli admitted in a mutter and took a deep breath to try and calm himself. Morax was helping, having been surprised to hear of this as well, but much more open to it. Zhongli was at least grateful that Ningguang had taken it on herself to make sure there was no further unrest because of the silence, but he did wish she had chosen a different method than what was fast turning him into some kind of a folk hero. Suddenly just “god” felt easy.

“The accounts of the soldiers who had returned from the battle corroborated her words as well,” Madame Ping continued and came to sit next to him, encouraging him to take the hand off his face to talk with her. She looked at the both mentally and physically tired eyes that met hers with a plaintive expression. Their god’s newest friend had been put through more than he deserved and she wanted nothing more than to keep him away from a breaking point. She hoped telling him all this would help. He needed to know he wasn’t alone. “The Tianquan did not stop her story there. She was there to explain to the people why the Rite had to be cancelled, after all.”

She shook her head and reach up to soothe Zhongli when his eyes squeezed shut with a grimace. “Please listen until the end, Rex Lapis. I know this is not easy for you to hear, but knowing will help you be at ease.” After she was given a nod, she continued, but kept up her ministrations to comfort him. “She told them how the person who had persevered against the odds, was met with disdain and distrust upon his return, from the people who were supposed to be on his side. How people were blinded by their preconceptions based on background and existing values, unable to let them go. Until some, or as we now know, someone took his misguided justice into his own hands and stabbed you in the back, figuratively, before the people of Liyue were given a chance to meet you.”

Zhongli’s breath shivered and he looked away. “Must we talk of this?” He did not want this. It was a little too soon after the fact to hear his experiences being voiced like this. And now everyone knew… How was knowing this supposed to help him exactly?

“Please allow me to finish,” Ping asserted softly, but relentlessly. “The fact is, your majesty, that with that despicable scoundrel’s actions, the people of Liyue broke their Contract with lord Morax.”

Zhongli opened his mouth to object but it died into a wavering breath before he could start. He knew she was right. As awful as it was.

“Ningguang is a responsible and sensible young lady. She immediately took action to make up for the fact, after we relieved her of suspicion. Her actions aided us in finding the culprit sooner as well. The city council has also collectively agreed to disband until further notice and will not reconvene without your approval. But you should not concern yourself with all of that, for now,” she admitted and looked up at the healers who moved to stand by the window and pulled open the curtains. Meanwhile, Indarias moved over to turn off the dim light in the room, letting them better see outside. “What you should know, is that the Tianquan reached out to the people and asked for their help. This is their response.”

“We, the people of Liyue, stand here at the precipice of a choice,” Ningguang spoke after quieting down the murmurs of the crowd after her revelation about Rex Lapis. “An ancient promise that took thousands of people to make, and yet can take but one person to break. We know not yet who to hold responsible for this tragedy, but their actions reflect upon all of us. The adepti are furious and Rex Lapis fights for his life as we speak. This time, it did not take a foreign enemy to weaken the shine of Liyue, only rust from the inside. We have betrayed the trust our archon once placed on us.”

Zhongli’s eyes widened as Madame Ping turned his head a little to have him focus on the view outside the window. “The barriers do block out some of the view, but we’ve taken away the brightest layers for this occasion, so that you can see their message to you unhindered.”

“I will not stand for my faith in our god to be placed under suspicion for the acts of others. And neither I will fall into the side lines and watch as those selfish and cruel actions threaten the very basis the Liyue of today has been built upon.” Ningguang reached out her hand. “Will you watch and stand by or take action and carry this responsibility with me? Our emperor’s mind wanders lost where no one can reach, chased out by the pain of this betrayal. And I intend to do whatever I can, however little it may seem, to convey to him my repentance and prayers. I believe that if we do so as one, we may yet reach him: show, that he yet has a place to return to once he overcomes his battles. I implore you to help me guide him home.”

“I know neither you or lord Morax are able to hear the prayers of the people as you are now,” Ping said, watching as the lights from the harbour made Rex Lapis’ eyes shimmer in their combined light. “But this I know you can understand. This is their will and hopes to you.”

<Hmm,> Morax hummed, pleased. <I’ll accept it.>

Zhongli watched over the rooftops of the harbour, from the height of the palace all the way to the sea of the bay, at the hundreds of lanterns that shone against the night sky. The sight of them both burnt his eyes and warmed his heart. He was unsure how to deal with either.

Madame Ping smiled at the beautiful landscape that had surprised even the adepti the first night the people had made it happen, then turned that smile back to her lord. “Tomorrow, we will tell the people that Rex Lapis has returned to us. And I know they will rejoice and welcome you back.” She leant forward, willing to test the boundaries because he looked like he needed it, and held him.

Chapter Text

Sometime during the night, the adepti moved Zhongli back to rest in the bed. The curtains stayed open, so whenever he awoke, he could see the lanterns that dotted the sky. He could not resist glancing in their direction whenever he could again, as if something in his mind doubted they would still be there. But he always turned away or closed his eyes after that glance.

He was… struggling to process what all this meant for him. On one hand, he was incredibly relieved and touched that the people still believed in him and wanted him to be their emperor. Of course, it was not “Zhongli” they prayed for: it was Rex Lapis. Still, it was impossible for him to not feel a little strengthened knowing that people were waiting for him to get better. He’d have to thank Madame Ping later for keeping her mind and telling him the whole story.

On the other hand, this was piling up on top of the expectations he had struggled to keep in check. He had come to terms with his new role, yes, but had wanted to keep a low profile for a while: getting his work done at a pace that allowed him to get used to his new duties. No huge new projects he’d have to oversee, no extravagant public appearances, and most definitely no wars or other conflicts he’d have to shoulder (as long as it was in his hands). But with this incident, he had made a permanent mark to Liyue’s history even before his coronation.

It was a lot. This entire month felt like the longest one of his life. Especially for someone like him, who did not enjoy being the centre of attention if he did not have to and someone who disliked causing others work or worry because of himself, having an entire nation know he was not doing well was against his carefully crafted discipline. He wasn’t bad at self-care, at least he had never thought he was: he had always made certain he led a healthy lifestyle, from eating and sleeping to work and maintaining social relations. He knew how to deal with an illness or injuries, how to defend himself in danger, cook a healthy meal, handle a difficult assignment or schedule himself around overtime at work to get enough rest. He had known what he could and could not do.

The problem was, he was used to those things on the level of a normal person, dealing with a fairly steady, regular life. He had held all the strings in his hands, carefully adjusting so that nothing was tangled and strung too tight. He had worked for years to make it to that point. Now suddenly, there was whole assortment of new strings he had never even considered existing, dangling around him and ready to choke him if he dared to move. When he now lied there, in the bed trying to sleep, once again he was a child, listening to the near strangers next door discuss how to finance their weekly budget with his addition to the mix. If he could have dreamed in this state, he would have no doubt relived memories of the most uncomfortable part of his life.

He had changed because of that time. Zhongli couldn’t help but wonder now, would he be able to mould himself to meet the new requirements set for him or was the shell from the first time too hardened to be modified again? And if he succeeded, what then? Who would he be, after all this was done? Meeting Morax was not something he could ever write off from his experiences. When “Rex Lapis” was no longer there, what did that mean for “Zhongli”?

The curtains had been closed, with the morning rays of sun peeking in from between them, when Zhongli next woke up after that long night. Before he even could think of anything else, his sleep hazy mind noticed the presence of another in the bed. Cracking his eyes open, he was treated to the sight of someone he had not expected to see, lounging on her stomach next to him and leaning her head against her palms while her feet slowly kicked the air.

“Oh?” Hu Tao perked up excitedly and her feet picked up the speed for the next few swishes through the air. “Look at you, alive and… well not that well, but I’ll take alive for now,” she said and pat him on the head like telling him he was a good boy. “Did you sleep well?”

Zhongli was a little too sleepy to consider the question enough to answer it. “Director…”

Hu Tao huffed, pretending dramatically to be offended. “Do not ‘director’ me at a time like this. You’ve caused me to sprout too many grey hairs for my age recently.” Zhongli flinched a little but as soon as he opened his mouth to say anything, Hu Tao tapped a finger against his lips. “Ah-ah-ah. Before you try, know that I do not accept a single apology or anything the like. There is one thing I want to hear from you more than any other right now, though. Care to guess what it is?”

Zhongli frowned slightly, too fresh out of sleep and drowsy to deal with Hu Tao effectively. “Me rescinding my resignation?” he fired a blind guess.

“Ooh, good one,” Hu Tao admitted, clapping her hands. “But no, as lovely as that would be. I’ve become a little too immersed in seeing you as the emperor to have you return to consulting yet.”

Zhongli grunted, closing his eyes for a bit to try and chase off some lingering sleep. But Hu Tao soon poked him on the cheek to tell him to not escape the question or fall back asleep yet.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, finally. “What do you want me to say?”

Hu Tao flopped to lie down facing him, wiggling her way closer. “It’s really not that complicated. You’ve been out on a trip and not been in touch. Think about it that way.”

“Oh,” Zhongli huffed and a smile passed over his lips. “I’m back, Hu Tao.”

He let out a surprised sound when Hu Tao threw her arms around him and hugged his head against her shoulder. “Yup,” she said into his hair and lowered her voice into a whisper. “Welcome home.”

“Miss, please do not be rough with him,” Storm Chaser said from somewhere Zhongli could not see. Which wasn’t saying much, considering how Hu Tao was holding him. “He is still recovering.”

“It’s fine,” Zhongli assured, lamenting the fact that his hands were effectively trapped under the covers and he couldn’t do more than pat Hu Tao’s arm a little in response to her hug. She was sniffling again a little and he hated it. “Let her do her thing: she is harmless. Most of the time.”

“Excuse you,” Hu Tao snorted, laughing in his ear a little.

Much better. “You’ve told me I am bad at lying. I would not dare mince my words with you,” he mumbled and tried to supress a yawn, but failed.

Hu Tao retreated looking at the bags under his eyes with a pout. “You need more sleep, old man.”

“Old?” Storm Chaser repeated and Zhongli sighed. The adepti would have to get used to it.

“I’ll fall asleep again soon, unfortunately,” he admitted to Hu Tao, who was busy weaving their fingers together, before flopping back down on the mattress next to him. This felt like one of those times he’d manage a maximum of five minutes before sleep would take him again. “After I rest some more, I promise to give you more of my time.”

“Fine, I’ll let you have more beauty naps. It’s giving your skin a healthier colour and making it warmer to touch again: it suits you. But no more trips to the beyond. You hear me?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Before you rest, my lord, may I assess your condition again?” the healer asked and came to stand closer to be in Zhongli’s line of sight. “How are you feeling? Do you require anything?”

Zhongli groaned, trying to assess what he felt like. “Mostly just the fatigue, so sleeping some more will do. I feel relatively warm now.”

“Is any of your strength returning?” Detaching himself from Hu Tao, Zhongli tried pushing himself up to sit with his hands but his grunt at the attempt was enough to have the healer shook his head. “Please do not force yourself. We must be patient. On the bright side, you managed the whole three hours of sleep in one go this time. This tells us your body is settling down enough to allow you to recover more efficiently.”

Hu Tao looked a little shook. “Are you doing that bad?” she asked, her voice softening.

Zhongli shook his head. “Just… sluggish. It’ll be fine.”

“What was that you said a moment ago? That you wouldn’t ‘mince your words’? Try to hold onto that a little longer at least. I can see for myself that it’s more than that.” Hu Tao sat up, giving his hand a squeeze as a goodbye. “They told me they’d let me stay in the palace for now, so I’ll be close by when you wake up again if you’d like to talk. For now: snooze time. Sleep tight, Zhongli.”

“Mm,” Zhongli replied but he was already drifting back to sleep.

Hu Tao watched him become oblivious to the world again in a matter of seconds the moment he let himself go. She corrected the quilt on top of him to better cover him again and tugged the hand back under as well. Zhongli wasn’t often a deep sleeper, something her numerous attempted pranks throughout the years had taught her. If she managed to pull off one while he slept, something was usually off. Like the time she had doodled on his face, expecting him to wake up at any moment, only to be told later that he had missed an entire night of sleep. That she could now touch him like this without causing as much as a stir, told her how much he needed to rest.

“Your holiness,” she whispered, brushing some of the curls that had escaped to Zhongli’s face back to where they belonged. “If you let him go wandering off on his own again, I will truly never forgive you.” She was pretty sure she’d get an agreeable answer so she stood up and stretched, deciding to let Zhongli sleep in proper peace for as long as he could manage again.

One of the adepti in the room opened the door for her and she skipped her way out quietly, taking a deep breath as the door was closed. When the little green adeptus had shown up in her bedroom when the sun rose, she had feared the worst. But then they had brought her over and told her Zhongli was back safely. She would have thanked the gods if she hadn’t still been extremely salty at one of them in particular. Eventually, she had thanked Barbatos out of spite. Putting the divine behind her, it was time to enjoy the fact that Zhongli was back. She had seen with the first glance that he wasn’t doing great, but he would be fine soon. That’s what mattered.

The female adeptus had followed her outside. “This way,” she said and started walking down the hall, expecting her to follow.

Hu Tao took a few running steps to catch up with her. “So, what’s your name?”

“General Chizapus,” the blue haired woman introduced herself without any flair.

“General? Oh, so you’re one of the big names in the play? Come to think of it, we’re almost like business partners, you and I. And we’re both also in the same team trying to help my good consultant! Hey, why the long face? Come on. That’s not an expression Zhongli will like to see. He gets broody without his daily smile, trust me.”

Bonanus led the chatty funeral director to a room they had prepared for her elsewhere in the third level, leaving her to another adeptus to look after, with some promises of food and a bath if she wanted to, and headed back towards the emperor’s bedroom. Two of the yaksha and two of the healers were in the room at all times. But the yaksha kept their distance and did not participate in taking care of Rex Lapis. They were still his bodyguards officially, but not blind to their own mistakes. As things stood, the emperor had every right to dismiss them.

The adepti stayed quiet while Rex Lapis slept. They did not want to be the cause of any disturbance that might wake him up. The healers would check on him every once in the while, just to see if he was stable and comfortable, but otherwise the room was silent. The longer Rex Lapis could sleep, the better. Bonanus could not explain in words just how relieved she had been the moment Xiao had appeared to tell them that their lord had made his way back to them. Even if he had been hurting when they had come to see him, knowing that their lord was back within the healer’s reach had removed a barbed wire from around both their hearts and throats. If another divine vessel had died right under their noses, they would have never forgiven themselves.

When Rex Lapis slowly drifted back to consciousness after another three hours, Bonanus couldn’t help but lean a little closer to peek as Storm Chaser talked with him. Unintentionally, her lips twitched into a smile seeing Rex Lapis slowly but clearly recovering, but she snapped her back up straight into attention when he glanced in her direction. Rex Lapis gave her a quizzical look but said nothing. He would soon fall back asleep for another couple of hours, before another ten or so minutes awake. Such was the routine that was created. The only change was the speed of the cycle: As time passed, Rex Lapis both slept and stayed awake longer. By night, he was already managing well over six hours of sleep and was even well enough to sit for a while, for the sake of variety.

On the second day after returning, Zhongli woke up in the late hours of the morning. He had last been awake at around four at night, for about half an hour, which had been enough to have a really oddly timed meal. His inner clock had no sense of actual time at the moment, to be fair. He was starting to feel the positive effects of sleeping without many interruptions: he woke up much less sluggish and aware of his surroundings. His back was showing signs of stopping with the stinging sensation and the heaviness pressing down his eyelids whenever he opened them had eased up.

He kept his eyes closed for a while, trying to make mental map of how his body felt. Warmer. Less awful all around. Could he dare hope stronger?

“Are you awake, your majesty?” Wave Soother’s voice talked to him from beside the bed.

“You can tell?” Zhongli asked, keeping his eyes closed: the room felt a little bright for his sleepy eyes, despite the closed curtains.

“Your sleep is very deep, unless you’re about to wake up,” the healer explained. “It is our duty to monitor you closely while you recover, so it is natural we would learn to read the signs.”

Zhongli nodded, concentrating on testing the movability of his fingers. It was honestly a little uncomfortable, thinking that the adepti were always in the room with him, but he understood it was not only for his safety, but also for the adepti’s own peace of mind. He was getting used to it. Other than the adepti, he had met Hu Tao twice. She had come by more often, but since his sleeping cycle was highly irregular, unless he was awake for a longer while, he had already fallen back asleep by the time Hu Tao arrived. This according to Morax. Hu Tao talking with Morax while Zhongli slept was somehow unnerving to think about. Not that the god could talk back, but still…

Opening his eyes, Zhongli brought his palm up beside his shoulder and braced himself for the moment of truth. His muscles attempted to flex his weight up and support him up to sit. It was not as hopeless as his last attempts had been and he got about halfway up before the hand pushing him up started to shake and he had to lean back down against the elbow he had braced under himself.

Wave Soother gasped a little when he slumped and her hands came to support him up. “Must you keep trying?” she asked, sounding like she was about to invoke her healer’s authority to keep him in bed. “Your condition is stable, but you’ve only started recovering from a genuinely life-threatening situation. I would much rather you allowed yourself a little more time to recover in peace.”

“I would much rather get something done when I am awake,” Zhongli countered with a little grumble. There wasn’t denying that resting was good for him right now (and honestly the best he could do most of the time) but he was getting self-conscious about sleeping so much.

“Would you like to sit up?” the healer asked when he wasn’t showing signs of trying to lie back down. She helped him up when Zhongli nodded and Xiánshen came to help set up some pillows for him to lean against. They tested putting weight on his back again and were pleased to realise it was mostly normal now, no extra manoeuvring needed this time.

“Comfortable? Anything you’d like or need? Are you hungry?” Xiánshen questioned, as they always did.

Zhongli took a deep breath, closing his eyes again to try and figure out how his body would hold up this time. “Perhaps something light to eat. I feel alright, for now, so perhaps I can stay awake for a time. It would be wise to eat while I can.”

The older healer bowed, leaving Wave Soother to mix Zhongli a healing drink while she left to get him food. Zhongli took the medicine he was offered, a rather tasteless glass of murky, yellowish-green liquid full of vitamins and nutrients, taking his time to drink it. Best not repeat the incident where he drank too much at once and almost threw up. His internal muscles had recovered nicely, luckily, so swallowing was not a problem. He eyed the two yaksha standing in attention in the corners of the room, while taking his sips. He could hear Morax sigh at the sight of their rigidness.

He held back a sigh of his own, only half influenced by what Morax was feeling. He had just started getting to know the five guardians and now this was turning into a wedge between them. “Marshal Vritras,” he addressed Bosacius after a moment of silence, deciding to go with official name for now, since he wasn’t sure how amiable the yaksha were with him currently. “If I manage to stay awake longer today, is there something I could address to start sorting out the situation?”

“No,” Wave Soother interjected emphatically and her face scrunched up, clearly trying not to outright start ordering her lord around.

Zhongli tried to stay on her good side. “I’m not suggesting I get up and do things. But while I am awake, I am capable of at least discussing the many matters that must be addressed, no?”

Wave Soother seemed to be stubbornly thinking otherwise, but she swallowed an objection and Zhongli turned to look back at Bosacius again.

Bosacius tipped his head down. “My lord should recover more of his strength first. But if you insist and are able, the Tianquan has requested to visit you.”

“Oh…” Zhongli glanced down at himself. He was not the most presentable at the moment. He wondered if the healers would allow him to bathe instead of using dampened towels to keep him clean. He did not know what his hair must have looked like either, but probably… not great. Not to mention he definitely didn’t look the healthiest: bags under his eyes, shaking hands, pale skin… A glance at his wrists, where the bones were showing clearer than usual, reminded him that since the adepti had directly fed him most of the energy his body needed, during the past week he had eaten about one normal meal’s worth of food. The Tianquan deserved a better audience than this.

“Would you like us to arrange a meeting, my lord?” Menogias asked, taking a step closer. “I would of course dress you for the occasion, if you are worried about presentability.”

He read me pretty accurately there, Zhongli thought, before he was distracted by the sharp look Bosacius sent towards his brother.

“Naturally, only on your permission,” Menogias added, dropping his eyes from his, closing them. “There are also other adepti who would be more than willing and capable of assisting you.

Zhongli thought about it for a moment, gulping down the rest of his medicine drink to buy himself a couple extra seconds to think. “Yes,” he decided. “It’d be only fair I met her as soon as possible. I’ve caused her a lot of trouble and there are undoubtedly many issues we must discuss and address. But I would not dream of meeting her in this attire, that is correct.” He offered Menogias an amiable nod. “Would you be willing to assist me, general?”

“It would be an honour, my lord.”

Just then, Ganyu came into the room with a tray of food in her hands, Xiánshen on her heels with another, smaller tray and a jug of something fresh to drink. Zhongli was thankful that his hands had stopped shaking enough that he could eat without assistance. If he ate slowly enough, he could also avoid getting nauseous. A win in his book. But as per usual, instead of getting him a simple soup or some porridge, the adepti had arranged him an assortment of things to choose from, which all in all was way more than he could eat. It felt wasteful. An upper society thing, perhaps? Or judging by how bashfully Morax seemed to be rubbing the back of his neck, this might have had something to do with some habit of his from the past. Which was: what? Order every dish in a restaurant at once?

The yakshas changed shifts just as he started eating, with Menogias excusing himself to select an outfit that would work with his current state and Bosacius with Ganyu in tow leaving to arrange a meeting with Ningguang. As Bonanus and Indarias quietly bowed at him when they came in, Zhongli decided to put all the food he had to a possibly good use.

“Bonanus, Indarias,” he stopped the two yaksha before they could settle far away from him, choosing the more familiar names this time to maybe lessen the gap. He hoped he wasn’t doing a mistake by trying to probe them unnecessarily: they seemed rather jaded with him. “Would you like to join me for a meal?” He nodded to the healers. “You two of course as well.”

“Huh, us?” Indarias looked genuinely shocked. “You would want us to… eat with you?” she confirmed in disbelief.

“Only at your own discretion,” Zhongli specified. He looked at the dish assortment. “There isn’t quite enough here for a proper meal for five people of course, but I will not be eating much myself and there is plenty for a shared snack. Eating alone aside, eating alone while other people watch is rather lonely, don’t you think? Mealtimes are an excellent opportunity for socialisation. With so many of us here, it would be a shame to waste it. And I should make the most of my time, while I am awake.” He watched the adepti glance at each other in silence. Most likely, this was a rather unexpected request for an emperor. Especially since the adepti and the vessels had been a little estranged as of late. “I will not force you,” he reiterated once more. “But you are free to join me.”

He kind of regretted asking, seeing how baffled both Indarias and Bonanus looked. The healers were stealing looks at the yaksha as well. That weighed on his heart a little: the five really were avoiding him… He hadn’t even seen Xiao that much recently. Acknowledging that his gamble in trying to ease the tensions in the room had backfired, Zhongli returned to his meal. Wave Soother stepped closer and picked up a piece of a chopped fruit, sheepishly smiling at him and retreating back to eat it. Zhongli returned her smile, thankful they did not leave him completely hanging, even if it was mostly just awkward. Xiánshen did the same after a while and the two healers would keep taking a piece of something to eat every now and then. But the occasional conversation steered towards his health or how he had decided to meet Ningguang despite of it, whenever he tried. The healers were too much in working mode to free up space for other topics. Unfortunate, but better than total silence. But the yaksha did not join him, although they kept glancing at each other and shifting from time to time.

Madame Ping saved the awkward atmosphere by showing up just as Zhongli was deciding he had eaten enough (honestly the atmosphere was making him lose some appetite). She had come to check on him when she had heard he had decided to meet with Ningguang. She also came with a message from Hu Tao that Zhongli had the absolute worst timing and manners to wake up when she was in the middle of handling some business and that he was not allowed to fall back asleep until she was done. Zhongli might have felt more refreshed now, but he made no promises. Ganyu also returned after a while, telling him that Ningguang would meet with him whenever he was able, regardless of her schedules, which was quite generous of her, Zhongli couldn’t help but think. It was still hard to imagine that he was above the Qixing in hierarchy. Keqing had also asked if she could join the Tianquan visiting him, which Zhongli approved.

Hu Tao made it back just in time to chat with him for a while. Her company was refreshing, but much to her chagrin, this time he decided to try and sleep without waiting for his natural limits to hit: he wanted to get enough rest to meet the Tianquan before the day was done. He just hoped his sleep cycle would be merciful with him to not have him sleep until the night.

.

When the adepti had first contacted Ningguang to tell her that Rex Lapis had returned, it had been early in the morning after a badly slept night. One of many, in fact. Baishi had knocked on her door, waking her up, to inform her that an adeptus had come to her with an urgent message. She had quickly grabbed a gown to wrap around her night clothes and ordered her secretary to let the adeptus straight into her bedroom. Something she almost never did, but her usual habits and exhaustion both made way to her need to know how doomed their nation was. “Doomed” was perhaps a strong word, but if Rex Lapis happened to die because of this debacle, she was fairly certain that repairing the relationship between humans and the adepti would be beyond her skills. And with an unknown enemy lurking in the shadows, ready to cause new chaos… well: this all added up to the reasons why she had been losing sleep.

But Rex Lapis would live. The report the adeptus had given her had been short, yet it had lifted almost all that pressure from her shoulders: the emperor had made his way back to his body the day prior and was on his way to recovery. When she later that day delivered the news to the people of Liyue together with Ganyu, she knew from their relieved expressions that their anxieties had eased as well. The uncertainty as to what would happen if the Contract remained broken, possibly severing their ties with both their divine guardians as well as their archon, had kept others but Ningguang up at night as well. As soon as they were done with the public address, Ningguang wasted no time requesting from Ganyu that she’d be allowed to pay the emperor a visit. Ganyu had averted her gaze and excused herself, without giving her a reply.

That’s where they had stood, as a few days passed: without further news from the Jade Palace. Only then did Ganyu come back, interrupting her meeting with Keqing, and told her that Rex Lapis had agreed to meet her. She, and Keqing as they later requested, would be escorted to the palace to wait for an audience. This was Ningguang’s first visit to the third level of the inner palace. She had met the previous Rex Lapis multiple times, but never did those meetings take place here.

When the time came, Ningguang had to admit she was a little shocked. She had been told he was recovering from his ordeal, but had not known the extent of his condition. She had researched everything she could about the poison, but there wasn’t much info to be gained, nor any other survivors to compare to. But Rex Lapis was a god and had the adepti helping him: that was what she had told herself to keep calm. But seeing him now, putting on what was clearly a brave face, she was reminded that without the Rite of Ascension, as far as constitution was concerned, Rex Lapis still was more a human, than a god. Despite the expensive silks covering his body, there was no hiding the fact that he was not doing well. Ningguang did not wish to waste the permission and opportunity she had been granted, but Rex Lapis should have clearly just stayed in bed.

“Lady Ningguang. Lady Keqing,” Rex Lapis greeted them and nodded his head down in respect. He was sitting in a comfortable, heavily cushioned chair by the window in this small lounge they had been guided to, slightly reclining against the backrest. “I welcome you to the inner palace. If only the circumstances were more favourable.” He glanced down at himself with a slightly forlorn expression. “My apologies for being unable to get up to greet you.”

Ningguang bowed down in turn, stopping together with Keqing half a room away from the emperor. The adepti stood by them on both sides and judging by their stern expressions, this was as close to the emperor as they were allowed to come. “Rex Lapis. There is no need to force yourself for our sake. We are fortunate you have returned to us.”

Rex Lapis laughed quietly. “Yes. I suppose I should consider myself lucky to be here.”

Not personally something Ningguang would have joked about, but it was good to see the emperor not be completely down because of this experience. “I must thank you for pulling through, for all of our sakes. And I apologise for not only letting this happen, but for being unable to offer more help,” Ningguang continued saying the things that needed to be said, while actively stopping herself from scolding him for agreeing to meet someone in his condition. What Ningguang had understood from just how Ganyu had sounded and looked like while arranging this, the adepti appeared to not be fond of the idea either. Rex Lapis was clearly doing his best, but the clothes or the neatly combed hair hanging over his shoulder could not hide everything. He looked frail, sickly and exhausted, to the point that Ningguang no longer felt she had the right to complain about her own lost sleep.

“How are you recovering, your majesty?” Keqing asked, finding her tongue.

“Alright, considering. I’m afraid I will require some time before I am able to continue my duties in earnest,” Rex Lapis admitted. “My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“No, no. Take as much time as you need to get better again,” Keqing insisted. “Right now, you need to concentrate on healing and not worry about any governing or ceremonial duties. We will take care of things in your absence.”

“You best not be thinking of this as an opportunity to weasel more power to the Qixing,” general Musatas hissed at them, but Rex Lapis quickly stopped her.

“She only means well, general. I will not have you shun the Qixing or the people of Liyue any further because of this incident.”

That caught Ningguang off guard and seemingly the adepti and Keqing as well.

“Rex Lapis!” the red yaksha objected. “You cannot be about to let this slide!”

“I am not,” Rex Lapis assured. “’Those who break their contracts, will suffer the wrath of the rock’. Those words have guided us long before this particular contract was ever made. I do not intend to abscond from the responsibility those words have left us. However, punishment should not exceed the crime itself. The people of Liyue have proven their sincerity and willingness to right what has been wronged. It is only fair to grant them the opportunity to do so.” He gave Ningguang a cautious smile. “You have my thanks for handling things and taking charge where I could not.”

“That is what I have vowed to do, your majesty,” Ningguang replied. “A vow I have taken on my own free will.” Rex Lapis seemed to relax a little, hearing that.

 “Your majesty,” Keqing spoke up, a little wary of venturing further into this subject, but unable to hold back her natural directness. “What do you intend to do to… the culprit?”

Rex Lapis took a moment to take a breath in and sigh it back out. “I will have him stand before the court to deliver a verdict, as soon as I am able.”

Marshal Vritras flinched next to his chair. “My lord, you need not face him personally.” He scowled. “In all honesty, we do not want you near that thing.”

“No,” Rex Lapis said, avoiding meeting their eyes. “I… need to meet him, for my own sake as well. And personally involved or not, a divine contract was broken. I am not blind to my responsibilities.” He looked up at Ningguang and Keqing again, changing the subject. “I’m afraid our meeting today cannot be much longer. Before that, we shouldn’t forget about whatever it was you had in mind when you asked to see me. Was there something you wanted to discuss?”

After a second of confusion, Ningguang smiled. “Must I have a reason to want to see your majesty alive and well after everything?” Rex Lapis looked confused so she elaborated. “My reasons for coming to see you are entirely personal. I came to wish you a speedy recovery and offer my support, but also to ease my own worries. It is truly a relief to see you recovering with my own eyes. ‘Welcome back, Rex Lapis’. That is the current summary of things I wanted to discuss.”

“…Ah,” Rex Lapis uttered. He seemed to not have expected she would want to see him only to say that. “Thank you, then, for your courtesy.”

“I was wondering why you would meet us in such a formal environment in your condition,” Keqing admitted. “Did you truly expect us to discuss work with you? You should be in bed, not be holding an audience.”

Ah, she said it, Ningguang thought, wondering if she should have voiced it herself after all.

The female adeptus with white-tipped dark blue hair who Ningguang knew to be one of the healers, crossed her arms and pouted. “See? It’s not just me, your majesty.”

Rex Lapis gave a slightly bothered laugh. “I suppose my weariness is rather obvious…”

Ningguang chuckled a little as well and raised hand above her heart to dip her head down in a formal bow. “We should take our leave. And you should return to rest, Rex Lapis. If there is anything at all you’d need arranged or done, send us a word.”

When the Tianquan and the Yuheng had left, Zhongli immediately sagged down against the pillows. Taking a bath and getting dressed alone had been more exhausting than he had expected. He was glad it was over, although he felt a tad guilty thinking like that so soon after determining he would be fine for a while. Wave Soother was taking some time to scold him again for overdoing things. Judging by how drained he felt, he supposed he had no right to argue at this point.

“My lord?” Bosacius spoke up when the adepti moved to help Zhongli stand up to take him back to the bedroom (no, he could not walk: his legs felt like jelly, but that hadn’t surprised anyone at this point). “Since the topic was breached, may I ask what are your wishes to us at this stage?”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “My wishes?”

The leader of the yaksha knelt down to the floor, the rest of the yaksha following his example. “We have continued to guard you, as per our contract. But we are ready to repent for our shortcomings, whenever you are well enough to judge them.”

Wait: what? Zhongli blinked at them, not quite sure what to think.

<They are your bodyguards, remember,> Morax aided his confused mind. <Does your current condition scream of success to you?>

Oh… I suppose that’s true. Is that why they’re being so distant? Zhongli cleared his throat. “You have been and are working hard to make up for what has happened as we speak, no?” he pointed out, although he suspected the yaksha were not ready to accept that to be the end of it. “It was thanks to your fast reaction that I live and you’ve continued to stay by my side through everything.”

“What good are our reactions or presence, when this is the result?” Indarias asked, digging her nails into the floorboards. “You’ve been hurt and in danger multiple times and we should have been able to protect you in each occasion. You almost died right under our noses!”

Zhongli sighed. This did not seem to be a topic that they would reach an agreement about any time soon. “If you find your performance to be unsatisfactory, you need but improve. Rather than dish out punishment, I’d rather see you use that frustration to push yourselves forward. The fact remains that I live and I have you all to thank for it. You caught the culprit as well, despite your questionable methods.”

“It needed to be done!” Bosacius defended their action, refusing to back down on this. “We needed to catch the culprit before they had any chance to cover their tracks. Placing the artefacts back on their pedestals like they hadn’t been touched yet, as well as not directly telling the truth for hours, was all to make the culprit question if their crime had been discovered or not. Bait them into revealing something they shouldn’t have known! All the theatrics like grabbing the handle of the sword only the culprit would have known to have been tampered with or the open hostility helped us weed out the unlikely targets. We watched everyone’s reactions and expressions at all times: it allowed us to narrow down our targets by more than half just in that initial instance.”

Zhongli pressed his lips together tightly. “And did you explain any of this to the people you let go after determining they were innocent?”

Bosacius looked up briefly and quickly before his eyes dropped back to the floor. “No, my lord.”

“And tell me: was the hostility all an act?”

“…No …my lord.”

“See? That is the issue. Results are not everything. Those people had done nothing wrong, yet you treated them no different from criminals.” Zhongli felt like his stamina was draining much faster suddenly, like someone had opened a plug of the tub that was his reserves. Storm Chaser and Wave Soother had to grab onto him more firmly when they felt him succumb to the feeling. “I hadn’t the energy to discuss this at length right now,” Zhongli admitted. “We will continue at a better time.”

The yaksha stayed still when the healers and Ganyu escorted Rex Lapis out, saying nothing.

When the door closed, Madame Ping walked up to Bosacius and smacked him in the back of the head. “Not the time. Keep brooding by yourselves if you must, but don’t weigh him with it.” Walking to leave the room after the others, she started mumbling to herself. “I told you he wouldn’t like it. But did anyone ask me before it was already done? No, of course not.”

She left the room, leaving the yaksha by themselves.

One week later

This was the first time Zhongli sat on the throne of the emperor. It was awe-inspiring: looking at the grand hall spreading before him. The magnificent architecture that had stood the test of time and windows that filtered in light like a natural arrangement changing with the time of day. The flowing tapestries that told age old tales and the embroidered curtains that lined the walls like a red ocean’s waves, absorbing the echo of the sounds within. Even the seat itself was as Morax had once assured: comfortable, despite it’s grand looks. Made from the same materials he commanded and infused with the power he carried within. Sitting on it felt natural and safe.

If only he had sat down here during a more normal occasion, perhaps he might have enjoyed it even. But the adepti had brought before him the man who waited his judgement and the hall had fallen almost unnaturally silent in anticipation of what was to come. Zhongli looked down at the man on his knees in front of the stairs leading to the throne, hands bound in stone shackles and yakshas standing guard on each side. Zhongli wasn’t the only one who had seemingly been mostly uncomfortable during the past few weeks. But the adepti were not brutes, despite their anger, so he was unharmed, if a little roughed up.

“I will confess,” Zhongli started, his voice reaching everyone in the silence of the throne room, despite him talking only slightly louder than normal. “When the adepti told me the man behind my attempted murder was someone from the council, I did not expect it to be you.”

Lord Li Teng minutely raised his head, as if to glance towards him, but did not finish the movement, ending it with a huff almost too quiet to hear.

Zhongli closed his eyes for a moment and leant a little against the throne’s armrest. “You may speak,” he gave a permission. “I wish to hear what you have to say.”

The nobleman huffed out loud now from between his teeth. “How very generous of your majesty. As if what I say would change anything.”

“That may be so,” Zhongli replied, not denying that rationally speaking, this did not change the outcome. “Yet I will still grant you an opportunity to speak your mind and explain yourself. I wish to hear of the reasons behind your actions.” He shook his head. “It is true you held some suspicions of my skills, yet you never were among the most vocal people to object, nor were you one to avoid a conversation with me.” Some of the councillors who had gathered on the rows of seats on the edges of the room looked they had been directly called out. Good: a little self-awareness wouldn’t hurt. “What would bring about such drastic course of action from you? I do not understand.”

Li Teng laughed once. “Of course you would not. Why would you agree with someone like me?”

“Agree I will not. Understand I can try.”

“How sanctimonious…” Li Teng muttered bitterly to the floor and Zhongli could see the yaksha tense by his side. The atmosphere in the room was thick enough he felt he could reach out to grab and pull on it. “Anything I say will fall on deaf ears. Why would I waste my time? Be done with it, Rex Lapis, and we can all move on. Just as you decree.”

Zhongli refused to back down. “Isn’t it natural to be curious why someone would hate you so? Speak. I promise I will listen.”

Li Teng huffed again and looked up from the floor to him directly at last. “I have nothing against you personally.”

Indarias could not stop the cough of utter astonishment and disbelief. “What?” she asked in a tone that told she was not believing a word the man was saying.

Zhongli gestured her to quiet down. “What do you mean?” he asked after the yaksha stepped back.

Li Teng stared him straight in the eyes for a moment, before responding. “That you seemed like someone I could have discussed some idle topics with and we could have gotten along just fine. But my duty is to the people: I have vowed to assure the future of Liyue is as bright as it can be.” His facial feature tensed as he spoke and deeper and deeper frown creased his forehead. “I did what I did, because that is what I thought to be best for the future of our nation. No matter how well we could have gotten along as acquaintances, your repeated actions proved to me you were not fit to lead this country. Hiding in the shadows to protect yourself, sewing even more chaos when problems were afoot, failing to protect the people because of your continued inaction, declaring a war against who knows what power without discussing with the council or even attempting a diplomatic approach,” Li Teng listed with an increasingly seething voice as he finally had an opportunity to vent his thoughts straight to the face of the person who was the cause of them.

“When I heard Rex Lapis had returned, I was hopeful and willing to give you a chance despite your background and questionable upbringing,” the nobleman continued, even as Zhongli could see the adepti were visibly holding back a reaction and glancing at him repeatedly for a permission to act. “But you failed to prove your worth to me at every opportunity. Despite acknowledging your lack of skills, you would insist on participating instead of leaving things to those with experience. Then, choosing to devote all your time to a handful of soldiers when the entire nation required your attention. When I was already on the verge of despair thinking what would become of this, I heard you had plans to use the imperial funds build a flying palace! This is exactly what happened the last time Liyue had a commoner for an emperor. What Liyue now needs, is a strong, skilled and steadfast ruler. All you seemed to be capable of, was protecting yourself and showcasing you were not afraid to use your divine strength to threaten us to compliance if we disagreed. You even had the gall to blame your lack of control on the God of Contracts,” Li Teng hissed, glaring up at Zhongli. “Yet you would let people insult you to your face without punishment, like you have no pride what so ever of the prestige your title carries. Just as you are now letting me.”

Zhongli tilted his head. “I’m not sure how exactly should I please you here.” He felt strangely calm listening to this. If anything, Morax was more shocked than him for once. “You told me your words did not matter, so I promised to listen. But now that I am, you’d blame me for not stopping you?”

“Do not twist my words against me, Rex Lapis,” Li Teng replied and sat up taller, without caring of the blades that immediately came to graze the skin of his neck. “I will not regret what I tried to accomplish. I did what I saw to be right for the prosperity and safety of Liyue. I saw you to be dangerously unfit for duty and knew that no one would be brave enough to openly oppose you. So I had to take action myself. I even made a plan to have you fall during the Rite, so that people could take that to mean you were rejected by the heavens, instead of someone having broken the Contract. It was perfect, until you decided to fondle the artefacts before the appointed time.”

Bosacius’s polearm hit loudly against the stone floor next to the throne. “Rex Lapis always inspects the divine artefacts before the Rite of Ascension. You’re doing nothing but proving your own ignorance and foolishness, by speaking of things you do not even understand.”

Zhongli gestured the yaksha to stand down. “So: you had a plan in place to quell the public unrest because of a death of another emperor? Without thinking how having me fall dead in front of the crowd could as easily traumatize someone?” he recounted and shook his head. “You’ve also failed to account for a witness to the events who would have in fact known all that transpired. Namely, the God of Contracts himself. The next emperor would have uncovered your schemes.”

Li Teng did not budge in his stance, sounding sure of himself as he spoke. “An informed enough emperor would have taken advantage of the path to a peaceful transition I had laid out for them.”

“Rex Lapis, may I?” Ningguang asked, standing up from her seat. Zhongli turned to look at her, nodding to grant permission. The Tianquan bowed to him before turning to talk with Li Teng. “I’ve heard nothing but conceited and uninformed opinions. You have heard what you have wanted to hear. To clear up one thing, let it be now known publicly, that the talks about the flying palace are real, but are based upon my ideas, not his. All the funding for the project will also come from me, not the imperial treasury. Rex Lapis has merely presented me with the means to make my dream come true. Your blame on him for irresponsibility should be directed at me.” Her eyes hardened. “Then again, I am a commoner by background as well.”

“Your…?” Li Teng uttered, before shaking his head to get the hindering thoughts out. The blades on his neck lightly cut into his skin as he moved. “You are different, my lady. You have clawed your way up from the dregs with your own hard work and intellect, just as it is supposed to be in Liyue. This Rex Lapis is nothing like you. I’ve given him all the chance there was time to give!” Li Teng argued back, dead set on defending his opinions that he knew were in the minority. “Had he ascended to godhood, no mortal way would have been enough to be rid of him. We would have been stuck with an unskilled and rash emperor for decades to come. What would have that meant for the economy, or diplomatic relations? Something needed to be done, before it was too late.”

“So you claim to know better than the God of Contracts?” Ningguang confirmed with an even, unimpressed voice, her face again schooled into not revealing her emotions.

Li Teng huffed through his nose and returned to face forward. “The God of Contracts understands the reasons behind my actions better than anyone.”

That gave Zhongli pause. “You believe… the God of Contracts to approve your actions?” he reaffirmed, having a hard time believing what he was hearing.

Li Teng looked back at him sharply. “Our ancient lord may be wise, but he is bound by his own contracts. We’ve seen that in the past with other emperors. Even those who misbehaved, he cannot dismiss without solid grounds because the Contract binds him to his choice. You are clearly strong and capable of using our god’s power. I suspect that is why he chose you: to defend the nation against the enemy as a vessel strong enough to survive the ordeal. But you failed to step up and answer his call. Yet even now in times of peace, he cannot dismiss you, not until something even more drastic happens. Liyue cannot afford to wait until that disaster strikes. So, I took action in his stead, so that our god may be free to choose a better vessel.”

Zhongli was actually almost impressed to hear this. The eyes that stared back at him looked so firm, so sure that justice was on their side, that it felt surreal. That realisation worked like a stopper for his train of thought. If anything, this helped clear things up: easing the burden that had accumulated on his shoulders. He was starting to understand what kind of a person he was facing. Morax in the meantime, had been stunned to silence. “Do you know how the adepti finally managed to catch you?” Zhongli asked, feeling that perhaps it was time to move things on.

Li Teng huffed again and he briefly glared up at the yaksha holding their weapons to his throat. “They did not tell me. I assumed they found the poison.”

“They did. Because your family gave it to them,” Zhongli clarified and watched the assured expression staring up at him change into shock. He looked briefly towards Ningguang. “Because of the Tianquan’s actions, the public opinion was strongly swayed in my favour. They called out to the culprit to take responsibility for what they had done. And when you did not step up, they did.”

It was Li Teng’s turn to be almost speechless with astonishment. “You lie…”

Zhongli shook his head. “The adepti had narrowed down their possible culprits to four at that time. Your family had been questioned and they had kept your secret well, until the public pressure became too much.”

“They…” Li Teng hissed between his teeth, gritting them together as he glared at the floor. “I thought it was odd how fast they narrowed it down in the end. I had faith that the divine guardians would choose one of the louder objectors as their final target to shame. To think…”

“Hold on.” Zhongli held up his hand to stop him. Did I hear that right? “You ‘had faith’ the adepti would convict one of the other three who were left with you in the end?”

“Naturally,” Li Teng replied. “They were the three of your most vocal deniers. I was there because I lacked an alibi, but compared to them, my conduct with you was almost exemplary.”

Zhongli felt a new kind of feeling rise inside him. An uncomfortable burn. Disgust. “They were your companions. Friends you shared the table with to decide the course of Liyue for years. You would have had them punished in your stead? You claim to have been on the right, but lacked the courage to step up and come clean when things went wrong?”

“How could I step up?” Li Teng asked, like it was natural. “The adepti would never agree with my reasoning. Their faith is blind. In the case you survived, I needed to be there to at least try to direct your course away from the worst. Those three showed no intention of bowing down to you enough to keep you in check without directly lashing out, so if an assassin had to be judged, their exclusion would have been for the greater good.”

Zhongli leant his elbow against the throne’s armrest and hid his eyes behind his hand. Never mind. He did not understand this person. He would never understand this person.

<Let me talk with him,> Morax finally spoke up after a long silence, during which the entire room again waited for him to speak up. This time more restlessly as hushed murmurs ran through the crowd. Ningguang had sat down, but many others looked like they were about to stand up. Whether to march out or to exclaim their opinion, Zhongli did not know.

The crowd was silenced when Zhongli finally straightened again in his seat.

“Li Teng Huang. In the name of Rex Lapis and on behalf of the God of Contracts, you will now be judged,” he said, speaking clearly and evenly even as the person in question glared up at him. “Your charges include tampering with the divine artefacts, possession of illegal substances and attempted murder of the divine vessel. Accumulating to a charge of breaking a divine contract between the Lord of Geo and the people of Liyue,” he listed. Pausing, he closed his eyes for a moment, one more time affirming the decision he had come to over the past few days. “As the first part of your punishment, I will strip you of your status and title. You have shamed the legacy of your ancestor and are no longer worthy to be recognized for her memory. This applies to your family as well.”

Despite having been betrayed by his family, Li Teng seemed shocked and was about to object, but Zhongli raised his hand to silence him, opting the adepti to keep the man silent. “If you intend to declare them to have no part in this, you are mistaken. You told them of your grievances about me. You repeatedly spoke with your wife and your children about how you thought I was unworthy and something needed to be done. Yet even as you told them you had thought of a way and acquired the means, they did not stop you. According to their own words, they did not believe you would truly do it. Then as the news broke and you were detained without warning, they panicked and agreed to not speak of it, fearing of what might happen if they were found. If even one of them had warned the adepti before the fact, this all could have been avoided.”

Zhongli turned his eyes towards the line of people further back in the room, also guarded by adepti. They were free of chains but hang their heads down without meeting any gaze sent in their direction. “The only reason they do not face the exact same punishment as you, is that they did confess in the end and readily aided at the last stages of the investigation. You are all henceforth stripped of your status and your wealth shall be confiscated, but they will be allowed to stay in Liyue Harbor, choose a new name and have a clean start. I will even allow them the right to make their way back up all the way to governing seats, provided they do so with their own strength. You, on the other hand, will be exiled. Once this is over, you will walk over the borders of Liyue and no law in this land will protect you shall you return.”

Li Teng laughed. “That’s it? Attempted divine murder and I gain a holiday?”

Zhongli looked at him steadily, allowing him to talk this time. “I said that was the first part of your punishment. I am not the only party present your actions have affected and wronged.” He looked at towards Ningguang and the city council. “The second part of your punishment, shall be decreed by the people of Liyue.”

“You’re doing it again,” Li Teng uttered, victoriously. “That’s another thing I forgot to mention. You shoved the responsibility to others with the treasure hoarders as well, didn’t you? Spare us the theatrics and take a polearm in your hand to spear me at your feet, Rex Lapis.”

“You misunderstand,” Zhongli explained. “Punishing their own shall serve as their atonement for allowing the contract to be broken. Their duty is to decree a punishment worthy of their own suffering. Should they decide they want me to witness or even carry out that punishment, I will do so.” He looked up at the adepti, who had admirably held their cool through all the poisonous words. “The third part, shall be decreed by the adepti.”

“Wise of you to leave them last,” Li Teng mocked him yet again. “There will likely be nothing left of me once they are done.”

“As I told you before, once this is over, you will walk over the border of Liyue,” Zhongli said, stricter this time and slowly stood up. He had to be cautious of his steps, but he was confident he had the balance and strength to make it down the stairs. He continued speaking as he made his way to Li Teng. “I meant it literally: with your own two feet and in a state of mind to recognize when the point of no return has passed. That part of your punishment holds and affects all others. In other words,” he said and paused to drop down to one knee to speak in eye level with Li Teng. “Whatever it is they decide to do to you, you will feel it and be aware from the start, until the time it is over.”

For once Li Teng said nothing in response and Zhongli grabbed the sides of the man’s face, calling Xiánshen to help him just in case. Waiting until the healer’s hand rested against his back, Zhongli held Li Teng still with his gaze. Some understanding had spread to the man’s face finally, about the nature of his punishment. “Whoever said, the adepti were the last party involved?” He leant closer, letting light gleam into his eyes. “The God of Contracts would like to speak with you.”

Li Teng could not retort before he was already away from the throne room, alone in a field of colour, that moved around him like particles of rocks and gems rising and falling in an ever-moving flow. His surprise was caught in his throat as he saw someone walk towards him from the distance. A familiar body and face, yet carrying strength the body he had almost destroyed could not currently muster. And the eyes that stared at him from under a white hood shone much sharper and colder than the ones that had cast him into this place.

The throne room was deadly silent, everyone holding their breath, not daring to move or make a sound. There was a pressure in the air, not too overbearing or tangible but unmistakably present. All attention was fixed on Rex Lapis and Li Teng: steady eyes of amber, glowing with power, and a pair of brown ones, glazed over and staring into nothing, only the hands that held onto the face keeping the body upright.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and a blink at the same time, Rex Lapis’ eyes stopped glowing and he nodded to the guardian yakshas, who took a step back away, withdrawing their weapons from the culprit’s throat.

Zhongli stood up, letting Li Teng’s body slump to the floor now that he no longer held it up. He carefully tried to calculate his remaining strength. The amount of power needed for this hadn’t been much and he had recovered well, but he had still proceeded cautiously. Xiánshen stepped back, bowing down as he walked back towards the throne.

“Wait…” Li Teng whispered weakly from the floor. “Rex Lapis… no…”

Zhongli did not look back down at him when he turned around to address everyone. “The proceedings have been finished. The decrees are to be carried out immediately. Once they have been seen through, we will leave this incident behind us and focus on restabilising the nation and healing the fractures in its structure that have been caused.” He turned to look at the adepti and spoke a little quieter now that not everyone needed to hear. “We must leave now.”

“Wait!” Li Teng gasped from the floor, finding his voice again, though it was broken and he appeared to be unable to get up on his own again. “Rex Lapis… your majesty… please. I…”

Zhongli turned to leave, but spoke up so the ex-noble could hear him. “I should add: I have bound you to your name. Where your family can choose to have a fresh start, to you I will not grant that freedom. You can only ever introduce yourself by one name and should anyone ever ask, you will be forced to tell them the story it carries. You will forever be responsible for what you have done.”

“No… no… this isn’t… I have… no… no…”

Zhongli did not stay to listen to him babble on. He was kind of happy to see that it wasn’t just him who struggled after meeting Morax face to face for the first time.

<Do not lump your experience together with this. You are nothing alike and never will be,> Morax chastised him for that thought.

I know. Are you satisfied?

<No. Not until you have fully recovered and we have finally held the Rite.>

You are hard to please, Zhongli noted, allowing himself to lean against shelf as soon as the throne room was behind them and he was alone with the adepti. I have my work cut out for me.

<How are you doing?>

Can’t you tell?

<I could. But I want to hear it from you, in your own words.>

Zhongli breathed out, letting pressure wash down from his shoulders. Keeping his back straight through most of that had been so hard. I feel… better now. Like a fog has cleared up from my mind.

<Good.> Morax’s presence briefly touched him more tangibly. <We can work with that.>

Chapter Text

“Rex Lapis, may we teleport you back? You should get back to rest.”

Zhongli nodded, pushing his shoulder away from the edge of the shelf. “Alright. Thank you, all of you.” He looked around the adepti, grateful for their presence, and then closed his eyes and sighed deeply, as the memories of the court flashed by him in rapid succession. “…Now it is done.”

“So it is. Please put that man out of your mind now, your majesty,” Skybracer asked, shaking his head sternly. “He has plagued you more and longer than enough.”

“You should have told us that you had updated your plans,” Storm Chaser said, offering Zhongli an arm to lean against for support if he needed. “You told us about the name binding only. You should remain cautious, your majesty. Your power is still unstable.”

“It was a last-minute adjustment,” Zhongli defended himself against the lecture that he had heard many times the past couple of days. Boiling down to: be careful. “Not to worry: I remained vigilant of my remaining stamina. The technique was fairly simple.”

“Even so,” the healer insisted. “We cannot take the risk. Your body isn’t—”

“I understand,” Zhongli stopped him before the healer could repeat his lecture with a different phrasing. Although he had recovered a lot, the adepti were very overprotective of him currently. He supposed he couldn’t blame them, after everything. “There will be no further need for me to use my power before the Rite, if all goes well this time.”

A cloven hoof hit against the stone floor. “There is no ‘if’. We will not allow any further complications to your coronation, Rex Lapis,” Moon Carver swore with a glaring frown on his face. “As soon as we can be sure there will be no backlash from the Ascension ritual to your person, we shall proceed.”

The rituals were meant to strengthen Zhongli and attune his body to the god’s presence and power, but if his physique gave out at the start, it would only lead to strain. That was why they were still waiting, instead of jumping into the Ascension ritual straight away. Nothing was allowed to go wrong anymore. Nothing. The adepti had reinforced their guard, kept double checking everything concerning Zhongli before it ever reached him and had tackled their efforts to investigate their hiding enemies with new vigour as well: all to ensure that nothing would get to him anymore.

Zhongli had recovered steadily at first, but for the last few days his progress had slowed down to a near halt. He could get up, move about and do things on his own while awake, but it never lasted long. Every five to six hours, Zhongli would find himself out of energy again and in need of rest. It often happened very suddenly as well: like when he been drinking tea at a garden pavilion, only to startle at the sound of shattering porcelain and realise the teacup had slipped from his fingers as he had nodded off without a warning. Zhongli was starting to feel like he was actually turning into the old man Hu Tao claimed him to be…

Zhongli snapped his eyes open with a sharp inhale, shocked as he realised he was falling asleep again, only to realise he was staring into the ceiling of his bedroom. Hadn’t he been at the preparation area behind the throne room just now? Wait, had he—

<Yes. You lost consciousness.>

Zhongli sighed and massaged slow circles around his temples to chase the tiredness away. Morax was sharing with him a memory of how he had suddenly fallen limp to the great shock of the adepti. Exactly what I needed. I suppose we should be thankful it happened after I left the throne room.

<I’m sorry,> Morax stated solemnly. <I should have finished faster. It must have taken more out of you than we realised.>

“Rex Lapis,” Ganyu said, coming beside him now that he was awake. “Thank goodness. How are you feeling?”

How about incredibly dumb? Zhongli wanted to say, but proceeded to assure her that he felt alright. Ganyu gave him a thorough questioning about his condition, that sounded like something she had listed out in advance, but eventually believed him to be alright enough to allow him to get up. Zhongli sat up, listening to the qilin list out what the healers had recommended he should do upon waking up. He was getting tired of being tired all the time. It was like something was simply turning his body off at random intervals.

<In actuality, this might be a sign that your body has reached a new stage in its recovery.>

How, exactly? Zhongli frowned.

<Do you—>

“You don’t have to eat much if you don’t want to,” Ganyu, who was studying his facial expressions like a hawk, immediately said upon seeing him frown. “But we recommend—”

“I will eat,” Zhongli stopped her. “Morax is merely confusing me at the moment. My apologies for the mix-up. To answer your question, I will eat here, if that is fine. I should take it easy for the rest of today,” he said, running a hand through his hair to get it in order, before standing up. Patience was his best medicine and he really needed to slow down and listen to that advice or recovering would take even longer. You were saying?

<Do you remember back in the beginning of our union, how you were unable to sleep because your body naturally started feeding off of my energy enough to sustain itself without proper rest?>

How could I forget? Zhongli noted, tying up a sash around the robes Ganyu gave him to keep warmer. He still had the undershirt of his ceremonial attire on, so the adepti must have undressed him only enough to make him comfortable.

<I believe what you’re experiencing now might be similar to that. You are actively not using or regulating my power at the moment, so the same is happening now that was back when you simply didn’t know how. The difference is that this time you are not as healthy as you were back then.>

How confusing… So, my body is merely tricking itself into believing that I am doing better now?

<Until the façade no longer holds, yes,> Morax explained and a pleased rumble escaped from him. <But what this tells us is that you are in fact returning to normal: back to the way things first were. The process of how your body borrows from my reserves is automatic. It was not happening while you were sick, because your body realised it would have made things worse. A human body is well coded to not use resources it deems unnecessary. But now it is again using that resource actively.>

Let us hope so, Zhongli commented with a little smile, sitting down to the chair Ganyu offered to him by the table. Now that his conversation with Morax was done (Ganyu had gone very quiet after he had stated he was talking with Morax), Zhongli took a moment to look around the room. He had been surprised to see only Ganyu and Cloud Retainer present. That was… rare. “Where are the healers?” he asked curiously. Or the yakshas, they rarely leave me all alone either.

“The adepti have gathered to discuss the exact nature of the punishment that fiend deserves,” Cloud Retainer reported, flapping her wings high in agitation. “One wished one could have snapped his neck then and there, before he even had the chance to finish speaking any his blasphemous nonsense.” She sighed and calmed down a little. “But one will honour Rex Lapis’ wish. The fiend will live and walk away with his own two feet. Although one admits one personally sees that to be much too lenient of a punishment. Why would your majesty trust the people with a portion of it? We would have gladly obliged in as many ways and as many times as our lord wished.”

Zhongli shook his head. “This is their responsibility. The Contract was broken, and the people of Liyue now need to prove to me their willingness to sign it anew. That is why I am having them punish their own and in doing so, quantify their own perception of the severity of this crime. I want to see what sort of a punishment they believe these actions deserve. Death of course excluded. There is a stark difference between a few years in prison or communal labour, compared to something more… harmful or permanent in nature. Seeing and hearing what they think, will help me determine my own actions going forward.”

The crane huffed a little but nodded. “One understands. Yet one hopes the people do not slack of in their duty and mark this off with a so-called ‘slap on the wrist’.”

Zhongli raised an eyebrow at the tenseness of her tone. “You clearly have a lot to say about this issue. Why have you not joined the adepti’s council to share your thoughts?”

Ganyu cleared her throat. “We’ve agreed at least two of us needed to be by your side at all times. I volunteered to keep an eye on you after the healers determined you were not in danger after you collapsed. But everyone else was… um, rather eager to get to work after today, so the other person was decided with a different method.”

Zhongli quirked his brows at the crane adeptus again. “So: you lost a draw?”

Cloud Retainer scoffed loudly and raised her beak high as if to appear taller. “One did not lose! One simply had a momentary lapse of judgement while reading one’s opponents!”

“Of course,” Zhongli conceded, smiling a little. “Well, in that case, a re-evaluation of the decision is in order, no? Why don’t you join the others for now, since you clearly wish to be a part of it.”

Cloud Retainer looked a little offended. “One is not that sore a loser. One’s task is to watch over you, Rex Lapis. As much as one wishes for an opportunity to be a part of the fiend’s purgatory, one still values your safety more.”

“Not to worry. I am quite safe here now,” Zhongli insisted softly and looked at Ganyu. “Ganyu will be by my side and she has proven herself very capable of handling my needs.”

“Aaah, please do not tease me like that, Rex Lapis!” Ganyu begged, but then turned a bit away, embarrassed. “But I will be here to do the best I can, that is true.”

Zhongli made an amused huff at her behaviour before adding. “However, you will forfeit your right to complain about their decision if you choose to stay.”

“That’s alright,” Ganyu assured. “I have faith they will choose a fitting punishment.”

“And you, Cloud Retainer?” Zhongli asked for her decision, gesturing gently towards the door to encourage the crane to leave and join the others. “I will be fine and will only stay here for today. You have my permission to join the adepti council.”

Cloud Retainer left after some more huffing about coming back to check on him periodically and a list of instructions for Ganyu so she’d remember how to handle any problem if one arose. When she finally left, Zhongli couldn’t help but smile at the ruffled tail feathers before they disappeared. He then turned to his meal and Ganyu started shuffling about to make sure the food was excellent and everything was in order, mumbling to herself about what all she could have forgotten to do. Zhongli wondered if she realised he could hear everything. She was fretting over nothing in any case: her work was excellent as always, and Zhongli really didn’t have as high standards as she seemed to think. At least he wasn’t the type to complain about a detail out of place, even if he did notice one, when seeing someone work so genuinely hard on it.

“The tea is fine, Ganyu. I believe it is a hint of hibiscus that I can smell? A subtle but calming flavour, that is an excellent choice to start a quiet evening. Thank you,” Zhongli stopped her from second-guessing the flavour. He was about to add an invitation for her to join him for a cup, but stopped himself, not wishing to make things awkward again. He should stop insisting on such things before the adepti were more comfortable around him. Ganyu had joined him once, yes, but had been unable to relax or truly enjoy it back then. “What have you prepared for me today?” he asked instead, turning his attention to the assortment of little dishes on the table.

“Yes!” Ganyu immediately gained some confidence when given a question she knew the answer to. “We’ve kept the dishes light, as per the recommendations from the healers. We have some chopped apples and sunsettias, steamed lotus root dumplings as well as fried pork dumplings with soy sauce, cornbread buns in two flavours: Jueyun chili and Natlan peppers, fried rice cakes with scallions and mushrooms, a green salad with mixed vegetables and then white rice on the side. For dessert we have sea salt lavender melon pudding and Qionji style cookies with sweet flower-sugar powder,” she listed cheerfully, going over the dishes. “Oh: and here’s the porridge you requested. And the tea of course: green with some dried southern hibiscus, as you guessed.”

Zhongli held back a sigh. “Requested” was a stretch: he had merely questioned the adepti’s understanding of the quantity he could eat at once and asked if they had heard of a practice of giving porridge to a sick person. Not that he truly minded all these options, since the food was absolutely delicious, but it felt wasteful eating only a fourth of everything he was always offered. Wasting food felt disrespectful towards the chefs who had endeavoured to make this for him again. He supposed this was more of a two-person full meal, rather than the usual three, so it was a development in the right direction. But asking Ganyu to join him would most likely only fluster her again. Hu Tao was out arranging some funerals as well. But speaking of people he would have liked to have joined him for a meal…

“Ganyu,” Zhongli started after gathering himself a plate of food from the assortment of delicacies in front of him. She was immediately attentive, but he still took a short moment to think through his words. “Could I ask you for advice?”

“Me?” Ganyu asked, surprised. “Of course, your majesty: if you think I could help, I’d be happy to. What do you have in mind?”

“It’s about the yakshas,” Zhongli admitted, adjusting the dumplings on his plate aesthetically, before setting down his chopsticks against their little wooden cushion next to the plate. “They have concluded themselves to have failed in their duties, to have betrayed my trust, and avoid talking with me or even looking me in the eyes, unless it is required. I know why they feel this way and their frustration is understandable. But it troubles me, seeing them act so distant.” This was the first time he voiced this worry to someone. He had been unsure if the other adepti shared the yaksha’s sentiment, perhaps only being less open about it, but Ganyu seemed like a safe person to first discuss this the subject with.

Ganyu seemed less sure about that, furiously trying to come up with something to say.

“I’m not asking you to offer a solution for me,” Zhongli added quickly, seeing how unsure she was how to reply. “That is something myself and the yakshas together have to find. But I do wish I had more information on how to start correcting this situation. What do the other adepti think of this drift between us or the reasons behind it? Or have you perhaps heard the yaksha talk amongst themselves about the subject when I am not present? If you have, I wish to know.”

Ganyu rubbed the back of her neck, clearing her throat. “I have not been present for any of their discussions. But I do know of the state of your relationship with them.” It was hard to miss. But Ganyu had thought the decision to keep distance was mutual, so she was busy re-evaluating her stance on this subject. “I’m very sorry. I don’t know how to best advice you. All of the adepti feel we owe you, but ‘how much’ is up to the individual. We can all understand how angry especially the Five are about the situation. But, um… I’m sure if you told them it makes you uncomfortable, they’d be willing to listen.” Ganyu didn’t sound completely sure of herself and proceeded to shake her head. “In all honesty, you might know them more personally than I, my lord.”

Zhongli looked over the various dishes on the table in front of him with a sombre expression. “That might have been true some centuries ago. But Rex Lapis has not often engaged with the adepti in recent generations. I know the thoughts and the relationships the yaksha, or the adepti in general, have with Morax. Not what they think of Rex Lapis nowadays. Not to mention that we do not yet know each other well on a personal level: my knowledge comes from ages past and they have only known ‘me’ for a month or so. I am uncertain how to confront them.”

Ganyu looked a little frantic. “I assure you we only hold you in the highest of regard, your majesty.” She blushed a little. “It is not only about lord Morax. He is of course the one who points us to you and continues to link us. But we’ve always tried to make certain that we honour each emperor as an individual as well,” she explained and her eyes escaped Zhongli’s gaze, drifting towards the scenery beyond the window. “He… lord Morax will not return to us. …We know this. Rex Lapis is his last wish that we wish to honour. Every emperor might be different in their own way, but our promise will not waver so easily. Your majesty… I cannot overstate how much it means to us that you are safe and how much we hope you can be happy and comfortable living here with us. I am sure the yaksha feel the same. If you talk to them about how you feel and what you think, I am certain you can reach an understanding.”

Zhongli contemplated her words. The adepti respecting him too much was what he was cautious about. He could simply order the yaksha or the adepti in general to stop avoiding him, bowing down or serving him so much food at every occasion, and they would likely have listened. But that had no deeper meaning, nor did it really fix anything. Ganyu meant well and her words were touching, but Zhongli knew that simply talking about how he felt was likely not enough. The yakshas would not forgive themselves so easily and he did not want them putting on a front of smiles with him every time they met, just because he had said so. Besides, if they were already blaming themselves for what had happened to him, telling them that they were making him uncomfortable now would likely only make things worse. But nevertheless, she had given him some reassurance that discussion was key and the first step he should take, as soon as he figured out the right words to say and the right moment to say it.

“Thank you, Ganyu. I will take your words to heart,” Zhongli said sincerely, watching the qilin beam happily at his acknowledgement. She proceeded to tell him that it was nothing and how she didn’t do anything deserving praise, while trying to hide how happy she was to hear she had been of use to him and failing miserably. Zhongli reminded himself to pick up some Qingxin for her later.

He spent that evening sitting in an armchair by the window, reading a book, or sometimes setting it down on his lap or the table to bask in the evening sunlight. He had opened the curtains to enjoy the few, even though the many layers of the barriers around the palace obscured his view of the harbour and the sea. On the table next to a glass of water and a cup of tea Ganyu kept filling whenever it ran out, was an arrangement of dried flowers: reminding him of something else he had been meaning to do, that was now evolving further. The only disturbance to his evening was the somewhat hourly visit from Cloud Retainer, who was true to her word and kept checking back in to make sure everything was alright. It was after the crane’s third visit, when the sun was already but a gleaming line of memory fading behind the horizon, that Zhongli abandoned his book and retired to bed.

When the sun returned to the sky, ready for new memories to be made, a certain young chef was enjoying the first rays that peeked over the rooftops. Xiangling stretched her arms up and wide, wondering if she’d manage to turn this refreshing feeling of a sunlight and a morning breeze on her skin into a flavour. Something that would allow anyone to enjoy this empowering feeling no matter the time of day. Something… a little chilly but with a bright and encouraging flavour. Something that would give the customer the energy to take on a new day.

Her thought process was interrupted by a singsong babble from behind and she turned around smiling to watch Guoba struggle to climb up to the roof to join her. The chubby little bear was trying his utmost and considering his physique and size, he was doing extremely well.

“Hehe, morning!” Xiangling greeted her companion cheerfully and pulled him up over the last edge. “Great timing! I just had a new idea for a recipe. Wanna hear?”

Together they sat down on the crest of the roof, Guoba waving his little feet while attentively listening and reacting to Xiangling’s ideas and theories about how to turn the feeling of a good morning into a dish. Half of the young chef’s ideas made the bear excited or sometimes surprised, but eager, while the other half either stunned him speechless in either doubt or actual horror. Xiangling took all of those reactions in stride as a fuel to keep the ideas coming.

“Would you like to go slime hunting with me for some fresh condensate?” Xiangling asked.

Guoba perked up eagerly first, but then he deflated a little, kicking his feet a bit less enthusiastically a couple of times, and glanced over his shoulder towards the glittering walls of magic that rose above them.

“Aww, Guoba,” Xiangling soothed him, petting the brown fur gently. “Are you still worried? Mr. Zhongli is getting better, they said so to everyone! And he punished the bad guy yesterday and a lot of people saw him too so it has to be true.”

Guoba sighed another babble out, forlorn expression on his round face.

Xiangling looked at him for a moment, lips puckered, trying to think of how to cheer her buddy up. “Oh I know!” She clapped her hands together. “How about we make this dish we talked about the best one ever and try if the nice adeptus would bring it to Mr. Zhongli for us again? We can make it super healthy and refreshing to boot to show our feelings! Good food always cheers people up, so it would be a perfect way for us to tell him that we’re cheering him on.” She laughed and hopped up on her feet when Guoba perked up in a happy agreement. “Well come on, let’s not waste time. We have a new dish worthy of a very special emperor to come up with and make!”

They hopped down from the roof and made their way to gather their things for a day of ingredient (and idea) hunting. Chef Mao listened to his daughter talk about their plans with proud smile on his lips as she gathered the things she needed. Packing equipment to cook on the road if she was struck with some inspiration, Xiangling explained her idea for a new dish, while Guoba hopped around to refill her spice pouch. Her father wished them good luck and a safe day as they ran out, leaving him to get ready to open up the restaurant on his own today. There was usually an early morning rush for people in search of a good breakfast or a take away meal to enjoy at lunch time. Xiangling had quickly done some of the chores but most of the things that needed to get done before the restaurant could open were left to Mao today. He didn’t mind though: his daughter was at her best when she followed her instincts and chased her culinary dreams. Who was he to obstruct her progress?

“You.”

Mao jumped out his skin when he was suddenly spoken to while retrieving ingredients to make the fish and vegetable skewers for one of his first customers of the day. It had been merely an hour since Xiangling and Guoba had left. He turned around to see who had barged into the store and almost dropped his radishes when he realised who he was facing.

Xiao studied the chef’s shocked expression and the hasty but respectful greeting he was offered, uninterested. “I am looking for your daughter. Where is she?”

“Xiangling…?” Chef Mao uttered and opened his mouth to answer, but got over his shock enough for a parental instinct to kick in before he could reply. “What do you want from my daughter?”

Xiao looked at him quietly, studying the look in his eyes. “Rex Lapis has summoned her to the palace. Will you tell me where she is?” The poor radishes fell to the floor now. Judging from the man’s expression, Xiao deduced that the young chef girl had kept her promise and told no one she had figured out Rex Lapis’ human identity. This man was clearly half flustered, half panicking hearing that the emperor wanted something to do with his daughter. Eventually he babbled out the asked information, after which Xiao offered him a brief thank you and teleported out.

Unfortunately, the answer to his question had been that the man wasn’t sure: his daughter and her companion had left to gather ingredients in the wild, without giving him a clear destination they had in mind. Just Xiao’s luck. Looks like this young chef wasn’t as easy to deliver back as he had hoped. Rex Lapis had personally requested him to find her and he’d be damned if he couldn’t even get this done.

Listening to the winds, he stood at the top of a mountain top overseeing the Sea of Clouds, searching for the right voices. Xiao was honestly a little confused. This new Rex Lapis kept surprising him to an uncomfortable amount, both with the decisions he made and the powers he used. He needed to figure out how he felt about all of it – all of this – so that he could do his duties better. Even if he had to leave the palace for a time and lose access to direct orders, he needed to understand how best adhere to his lord’s will while hunting down demons or their previously escaped enemies. Rex Lapis was strong and incredibly attuned with lord Morax. It would get some getting used to, Xiao had thought, but it was the mixture of stern practicality, puzzling kindness and at times self-harming levels of disregard to his own comfort or convenience that were proving to be the bigger hurdle. Xiao did not know how to deal with it yet and he hoped to learn as much as possible before Rex Lapis would decide on his punishments for them.

Selfishly, he found himself hoping that it would not be before the Rite of Ascension, so he might stand guard for his lord until he knew he would be much safer in his day-to-day life. Back when he had taken Rex Lapis up to the top of Mt. Tianheng and stood beside him while he had searched for the distorting energies within the land, he had had a lot of time to think. Watching the divine vessel meditate for hours, using a technique he himself scarcely understood, then seeing the victorious expression pass by the emperor’s face when his efforts were rewarded: it was all so different from what he was used to. He had struggled to understand some vessels before, but this one felt like a totally unique experience.

An annoying hour later, he located the chef girl and her companion, engaging in battle with a few cryo slimes. Without waiting for her to finish, Xiao dove down to the middle of her battle and let his winds swirl the fire and ice on the field to quickly finish the job.

“Adeptus?” the girl squeaked in surprise, lowering her spear. “And it’s you! Hi. What a coincidence to run into you here! We were just talking about you earlier. Erm, I mean, I’m sorry,” she cleared her throat and inclined her head to properly greet him. “It’s an honour to meet you again, adeptus. Thanks so much for last time.”

“You were talking about me?” Xiao questioned, dismissing his own spear once he was certain all the threats were extinguished. “You two should not be out in this area at this time. This is near where the much of the Abyss activity was detected during the kidnapping incident,” he added.

“Is it? Oh, we didn’t know. We’ll be more careful, I promise,” Xiangling said before getting distracted by the slime condensate bubbles at her feet that she needed to collect before they mixed with the dirt. “We were hoping we could find you again! I’m thinking of a new dish that I wanted to dedicate to Mr. Z— I mean Rex Lapis. Hey, um, can I ask how he is doing?”

“You can come and see,” Xiao replied. “Rex Lapis has requested your presence in the imperial palace. Do you comply with his summons, or will I have to force you?”

A “huh?!” escaped from Xiangling’s mouth while Xiao was talking. “Mr. Zhongli wants to see me?” she asked and started bubbling with nervous excitement. “Of course I’ll come and see him! The palace… Oh archons, I’ve never been there before! Do you think he’d let me see the kitchen?!” she couldn’t stop the excited sparkle from appearing in her eyes.

“I’d imagine he would, if I had to guess,” Xiao muttered and stepped up to hold onto the girl and the little bear to teleport. “We’re going. Hold your breath and try not to throw up.”

He gave her almost no time to react to his order before they already vanished into the air and left behind half collected slime remains for some other soul to run into and enjoy. He brought them to the barrier, slipped them all through in a spot bystanders were least likely to stare and teleported to the lower inner palace. From there, they made their way to third level on foot. Xiangling was gaping at the palace interior, chatting to her companion in a hushed voice. She was in awe of everything she saw and that coupled with who she was here to see was seemingly making her combust with a mixture of feelings. Guoba was hopping about excitedly and inspecting everything, pointing things at them whenever he found something he liked. Xiao reminded them to be on their best behaviour and that although being Rex Lapis’ invited guests gave them some privileges, the adepti were on the edge about any disturbances or liabilities. Xiangling straightened and quieted down (for a while) after he said that, but the next wall tapestry had her bubbling inside to sightsee again.

Rex Lapis was at the smaller of the third level’s two gardens. The bigger one circled the outer edge, with a view over the entire city, while this one was more secure and private, nestled between the walls of the palace and the almost vertical face of Mt. Tianheng on one side. Sand and stone pools decorated the garden, light tones on one side and dark on the other, lined with gnarly trees and evergreen bushes and ferns, with two pavilions standing guard over the ordered shape. Rex Lapis was discussing something with Madame Ping on the white side pavilion when Xiao arrived to report that he had brought the young chef and her companion as requested.

“Mr. Zh-er, I mean um: Rex… Lapis,” Xiangling stumbled on her words nervously after Xiao guided them in. Guoba in the mean time was waving happily and hopping up and down to boot.

Rex Lapis chuckled and stood up. “Good morning, miss Xiangling. No need to be so nervous. It is still me, despite of everything.”

Xiangling clasped her head between her palms. “This is crazy. It’s really, really, real,” she muttered, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. “Rex Lapis,” she said the name like she was trying to get used to how it sounded in her mouth.

Guoba was less bothered by Rex Lapis’ new status. The bear was as happy as could be when he hopped over to greet the emperor. Xiao restrained himself from stopping them, deciding to trust Rex Lapis’ own judgement as he looked welcoming of the familiar behaviour.

“And good morning to you as well, little friend,” Rex Lapis greeted the bear and offered his hand for his guest to hold between his paws. “Good to see you’re doing well.”

“Are you kidding? That’s what I should be saying!” Xiangling commented and then slapped a hand over her mouth in shock of her own tone towards the emperor.

Rex Lapis huffed, light-hearted, assuring her that it was fine and that he was doing better now. Xiao couldn’t help but think how different his expression seemed now to his usual one these days. The emperor invited his guests to join him under the pavilion, asking if they would like some refreshments. Madame Ping was quick to procure some extra cups for tea.

“Thank you, Xiao,” Rex Lapis said to him unexpectedly as his guests moved to join him by the table. “I hope finding them was not too much trouble.”

There Rex Lapis goes again: confusing him. “It was nothing. If there is anything else you’d need, call for me. I will be nearby.”

Xiao bowed and retreated to a more hidden guarding spot and Zhongli turned back to the very nervous girl and a very cheerful bear.

“You’re too tense, child,” Madame Ping chided Xiangling lightly and offered her a teacup.

“Master! I’m sorry: I should be serving the tea,” Xiangling offered and stood back up from the seat she had just taken.

“Nonsense. You’re the guest while you’re here,” Ping hushed and sat her back down. “Now relax and enjoy yourself. Take a look at Guoba and learn from him a little.” The bear was indeed busy looking over the snacks on the table and picking up what to taste first.

“You two know each other?” Zhongli asked, sitting back down on his seat.

“Yes! Master is the one who taught me on how to use my spear,” Xiangling explained.

“Is that so?” Morax hadn’t actually been aware of that. Curious, Zhongli thought to himself while Madame Ping and Xiangling elaborated on how they had met and interacted before. The young girl gradually relaxed as she got over the where and who of her circumstances.

“I must thank you both,” Zhongli said as the conversation returned to the topic of why they were all here. He smiled at Xiangling’s confused tilt of a head, her cheeks stuffed with a muffin. “For the flowers and the cornbread snacks. That was most kind of you.”

Xiangling tried to swallow her mouthful of food so fast she almost choked. “It was the only way I could think of how to help! I’m just… happy if it helped at all,” she explained, looking a little forlorn remembering back to the circumstances. “Um… did it help at all?”

“Unfortunately, not in the way you had hoped,” Zhongli admitted, but tried to remain encouraging. “But it was touching to see, after I woke up. The gesture meant a lot to me, at that moment. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“I’m just happy you got back safely.” Xiangling shook her head. “You know… not just Rex Lapis, but… Mr. Zhongli as well. I was already worried when Hu Tao told me you had been kidnapped. Guoba as well! When I put two and two together and figured out who you were, that was just an additional reason to hope you’d be fine. But… everything is going to be alright now. Right?” Her question was hopeful inquiry to him.

Zhongli nodded. “As long as it is in my hands. I too wish for things to stabilize and for everyone to both go to bed and get up in the morning without so many worries.”

Xiangling nodded, happy to hear his answer. “I’m just so happy to see you’re doing better, really. Thank you, your majesty,” she added, trying to stay proper and sit up straight, despite the casual mood of their meeting. He might have looked like just a good old customer, but the surroundings kept reminding her that she was actually meeting with Liyue’s rightful ruler at the moment.

“No need to be so formal. You may call me by my name, unless it is a more official occasion.”

“Your name? So… Rex Lapis?”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows. “That depends on who you want to address. Would you like to speak with only Zhongli, or would you rather address the God of Contracts as well?”

Xiangling panicked slightly, and flailed her hands in front of herself. “I could never ignore the God of Contracts! That would be super rude. So, umm… I guess, I need to get used to Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli smiled briefly, especially at how secretly pleased Morax seemed to be, but he kept that part to himself. “To get back on a subject I wanted to discuss with you, thanking you for the flowers was only part of the reason I called you here. I would like to ask for a favour from you.”

“A favour?!” Xiangling repeated with yelped out surprise as she processed how special that was in this context. She was absolutely making the best use of her connections if the emperor of Liyue came to her asking for favours. “I mean: yes, absolutely! If there is something I could do, I’d be happy to help. What do you need from me?”

“The Rite of Ascension will soon be held at last,” Zhongli explained. “It has been a long time coming and the adepti especially have worked hard and waited for many long days for it happen. I wish to make it up to them and offer them a chance to relax.”

Madame Ping set down her teacup. “Oh, your majesty, there is no need for that. Your ascension after this long month will be reward enough for us. Many will disagree heavily on even hearing you offer us some form of compensation for all of this.”

“I know. That is why this is my choice, not theirs,” Zhongli stated firmly and smiled at the elderly adeptus. “The adepti keep telling me that none of what has happened is my fault, yet seem to be thinking that they themselves are responsible. I want you to understand that I do not blame you but in fact value your effort and work far more than any hiccups in the results. Do you realise you are presently the only adeptus willing to even sit at the same table as me? Things need not be so strained between us. So, I will organize a feast, where all of the adepti can gather and have a chance to talk with both each other and myself. Any problems or disagreements between us can be discussed without the need for an existing divide. Think of this as my attempt to start closing it.” He turned to Xiangling with what he hoped was a warm expression on his face. “And I couldn’t think of anyone more suited to cook such a feast than the best chef I’ve met.”

Xiangling’s face blushed so red she looked like she might pass out. Her expression was a mixture of surprise, embarrassment and a wild range of ideas that immediately started shining behind her eyes.

“Rex Lapis,” Madame Ping uttered with fond exasperation and looked at him with the same kind of look Zhongli remembered seeing whenever she talked about Morax.

“I will not force them to attend, of course,” Zhongli assured her. “But all of the adepti will be invited.” If the adepti were unwilling to be casual with him, perhaps a more official setting would help him reach out to some of them. He looked between the blushing and speechless young chef and the little bear who was currently hopping around the table excitedly. “Your father can naturally join the effort as well and I would not dare suggest you leave Guoba behind. You can request other helpers to join you as well: it is a lot of food to make on your own, so feel free to request any help you require. The imperial kitchen will be yours to use and we will provide any ingredients you’ll need. As for the menu: many of the adepti are quite particular about their food, so the adeptus chefs can offer you pointers. Would such a feast be something you’d be interested in making?”

“Yes!” Xiangling piped up and jumped on her feet, unable to contain herself. “I could cook for not only Rex Lapis but the illuminated guardians as well? Oh dear… That is such an honour. I cannot mess this up. And the palace kitchen…” She was drooling. “I will not screw a single dish up, I promise! It’ll be my finest menu to date! You can count on me!”

Zhongli laughed. It was impossible to not get affected by her enthusiasm. “I would not ask if I already didn’t. Would you like to see the kitchen? Ping can show you the way.” Zhongli had never seen anyone chug down the rest of their tea so fast. “Oh, and you will naturally be paid for your services.”

“Paid?!” Xiangling was clearly getting too many things to keep in mind. She could not wait to see her father’s reaction to the news. “I couldn’t demand a payment for this. This is like a once in a life time chance. Imagine the positive pr for the restaurant… oh, father will faint…”

“Payment for your work is standard practice, regardless of the customers,” Zhongli insisted gently. “You will be required to close your restaurant for a while to work on this as well. I would not dream of causing you any financial distress.”

“Come now, child,” Madame Ping said and gently guided Xiangling to leave so that they could go inspect the imperial kitchen. “Stop gushing and keep your head high. You cannot even see the kitchen if you keep looking at your palms like that. And what do we do and say when leaving after being granted an opportunity like this?”

Xiangling stopped cowering behind her hands and her fist clutched on the hem of her clothes when she bowed deeply to Zhongli. “Thank you! Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for accepting the job. I look forward to seeing the results of your work already. Oh, just add slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup to the menu if you would?”

“Slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup,” Xiangling repeated, carving the dish to her memory. “Got it! I will treasure this chance like the rarest ingredients. It’s an honour to cook for you, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli tilted his head a little. “You already have cooked for me.”

Xiangling froze for a second and then clasped her cheeks again. “Were you… were you already… Rex Lapis when we talked about the emperor during your visit a few weeks ago?”

“I was. Thank you for your kind words back then, as well. In addition to the excellent food, you have truly encouraged me on multiple occasions.”

Madame Ping sighed and gently took a hold of Xiangling’s wrists as the girl tried to curl up on herself. “Enough palm-gazing. Come on, eyes up and alert before you trip down the stairs. Please do not fluster her further, Rex Lapis. The poor girl is already breaching her thresholds.”

Zhongli left Xiangling and Guoba in Ping’s care after one more squeeze the bear came to give his hand. Once they had left, he sat back down alone in the pavilion.

<How did you know about the bamboo shoot soup?> Morax inquired, curious.

“The thought passed my mind that I should ask you if there was something you’d like to eat and the answer came to me naturally.”

<Oh? Seems like someone is getting better at digging up my memories on their own. Don’t get too competent at it now or I might get lonely,> Morax joked light-heartedly.

“With some fresh memories, it will be easier to join you sometime for recalled meal,” Zhongli noted back, wondering when he had become so comfortable with the god’s presence that dining with him felt like natural progression. “I have been promised some tea as well, no?”

<Hah. Absolutely.>

Zhongli paused their conversation when he felt a presence of another entering the garden. Looking up, he saw Ganyu return from her errands, with Moon Carver following a few steps behind.

“Oh. You’re on your own?” Ganyu asked, frowning and glanced around the empty yard.

“Xiao is up on the roofs close by,” Zhongli corrected her, setting down his teacup to turn and talk with them.

“Of course he is…” Ganyu muttered and cleared her throat to speak up. “The people of Liyue have started to enact their punishment to Li Teng, my lord. The Tianquan asked me to report to you.”

“Oh? That was fast,” Zhongli commented and inwardly steeled himself to hear more.

Ganyu nodded. “It is only the starting process for it. Since the city council is disbanded until further notice, the Tianquan wished to hear directly from the people themselves. She has arranged the culprit to be held in a place where the people can personally go and see him, children excluded, and encouraged the people to go tell to him directly what they think of his actions, how the entire situation has made them feel and what they think his punishment for those things should be. They requested an adeptus to remain on site as a witness and all the public opinion will be gathered for the Qixing to process later.”

“That is… quite meticulous of her,” Zhongli said, thinking that perhaps Ningguang saw this as an opportunity for the public to vent their frustrations as well.

“She made sure to add the summary of your decree and Li Teng’s own reasons for his actions for the people to see, so they might more accurately pass their judgement,” Ganyu assured. “And the millelith are standing guard so that no one attempt to take justice to their own hands again. Lady Ningguang wishes to keep this arrangement in place until the Rite of Ascension.”

Zhongli could imagine quite a few people would have some things to say about certain points of Li Teng’s reasoning. It was quite shrewd of Ningguang to make him listen to the public opinion right on his face. Zhongli wondered if that would give the man some perspective on how he had been treated by the council. The talk with Morax had already lowered the man’s self-esteem quite a bit.

<Do not even think about pitying him,> Morax growled. <He brought this upon himself.>

What did you say to him exactly?

Morax was surprised. <You didn’t listen in?>

You told me I didn’t have to and you made it sound very personal to you.

“Rex Lapis,” Moon Carver interrupted their quiet talk, bringing Zhongli’s attention to himself. “The adepti have also decided on their punishment for the fiend.”

Zhongli tensed. “That was quite fast as well. I admit I expected you to revise your decisions for a while. Have you come to tell me more about it?”

The stag dipped his head down. “Only if our lord wishes to hear. The fiend need not occupy a single corner of your mind any longer, in our opinion. We will handle all the procedures on our own.”

Zhongli tried to not outwardly show he was relieved to hear that. He was not too keen to hear any details what the adepti might have planned for the man who had come a hair’s breadth away from killing the divine vessel. “You will keep in mind my decision to exile him in the end?” he decided to make sure, just in case.

“You need not be concerned. The healers were eager to help.”

“Alright,” Zhongli coughed a little. Spare me from the details. “I will leave it to you.”

Moon Carver nodded and his voice dropped a little lower in distaste at his next words. “One wishes to not report this to you, but one’s obligations dictate otherwise. The fiend is asking to see you again. One advices against it.”

“He is?”

“Yes,” Ganyu confirmed, looking as sour as the stag. “It is all he ever says.”

Zhongli frowned. What did you say to him exactly, Morax? He sounds desperate.

<Do you wish for me to share the memory or should I give you a summary of it?> Morax asked and nodded knowingly, when Zhongli instinctively shrunk away from a full explanation. His vessel was very uncomfortable thinking about the man and his actions still, understandably. <I thought so. In summary then, I shared with him two memories.>

Memories?

<Yes. The first one was of his ancestor who once walked the world with me.> Their shared mind was briefly filled with a nostalgic fondness the god felt for the 13^th Rex Lapis. <She had a habit of talking with me at the end of the day before going to bed. When she was alone after the day, she would recount aloud to me her thoughts, joys and grievances about whatever was on her mind at the time. I would then reply to her in her dreams. She was very fond of that habit and it helped her in sorting out her own thoughts as well,> Morax recalled amiably, before the attention turned back towards the man that had brought this up. <What I shared with him, was a particular memory of her telling me of the legacy she wished to leave behind. She loved her family dearly and hoped they would keep up her work for the sake of Liyue even after she would be no longer of this world, for centuries to come.> Morax sighed, frustration again leaking into the feelings he shared with Zhongli. <I wanted that man to understand just how much of a personal insult his actions were both to me and his family name. He did not take that well.>

Zhongli could imagine. And the other memory?

Morax was silent for spell. <I shared with him your memory of pain.>

Zhongli flinched. What?

<Not any personal details or thought, don’t worry. Just your body’s memory of what that poison he prepared did to you.> Morax helped Zhongli suppress a visible shudder. <Other than that, I merely made sure he understood that his actions in fact did not have my approval. That is all.>

Zhongli could imagine that to have been quite enough. Li Teng would likely speak in a different tone, were Zhongli to meet him again. He was considering it, if reluctantly, wondering if it would make him feel better. Imagining all the man had done and said, Zhongli had the right to never want to see him again. Just thinking back to all the trouble in the aftermath of his actions and…

The adepti had waited silently for him to sort out his thoughts and come to a conclusion about the request. Judging by the faraway look in his eyes, they guessed he was speaking with Morax and did not wish to disturb him. Even as the emperor seemed to get more uncomfortable, they hesitated to interfere, and were shocked to see Rex Lapis’ eyes suddenly widen in realisation and his expression morph into that of held back horror.

“What has happened to the soldiers infected by miasma?” Zhongli asked them, and his heart sunk at how Ganyu averted his gaze.

“Ah…” Ganyu fidgeted. The procedures had been unfinished when this all had happened. They had been prepared to finish them after the Rite, when Zhongli would be at full power, and finally relieve the soldiers of their blight. “We didn’t want all of your hard work with them to go to waste, so that was the one thing we kept doing in… er… slight cooperation with the humans, while you were lost and recovering,” she started explaining. “As you know, our main healers were always with you and needed all their strength with it for most of that time. Some soldiers were well enough to keep fighting off the remaining influence even with only the adepti’s help and have recovered well. However, most have… relapsed, my lord. Their physical injuries had been getting better, but the mental strain has returned to affect them more strongly, which has hindered or even reversed the healing process of most. And, umm… fifteen have… died, my lord.”

Zhongli leant his elbows at the edge of the table and weaved his fingers to grip onto his hair. He pulled on the roots, using the slight pain of it to distract himself. He gritted his teeth together to stop himself from getting up and making his way back to the injured soldiers. He could not do that. There was nothing he could do without risking his own recovery. His body had to make his brain understand that there was nothing he could do. He had to be patient or he’d only make things worse.

Fifteen… And how many more before he could again attend to them?

He felt Ganyu come beside him and her hand hovered close to his shoulders, uncertain what to do. “My lord?”

“Rex Lapis,” Moon Carver said steadily, containing his feelings for seeing the man they all despised again be the cause of distress for their god. “Will you grant that man an audience?”

Zhongli’s breathing got caught in his throat, causing an uncomfortable swell of feelings be stuck in his chest.

“No.”

Chapter Text

He wished he hadn’t thought of it. Even when he had, he shouldn’t have asked. He should have known it couldn’t have been anything good! Now, it gnawed at his every thought for the following days. The food lost its flavour in his mouth and the baths no longer eased his stress. Before, he had reached a mindset of giving himself the time his body needed, but now… there was a sense of hurry that he couldn’t shake. The realisation that this was not about “him”, but “Rex Lapis”. And there were certain things that only Rex Lapis could do.

Understanding that there were lives of others on line, every passing hour, effectively destroyed any peace he had made with himself. He now battled that thought every day on several occasions; fighting to stop himself from testing his powers or just going over to see the soldiers. It would only make him feel worse, he knew that. But that accursed affliction was claiming more lives and causing more suffering still, when it could have been over days ago.

And he could now do nothing to help. No, that couldn’t be, there had to be something…

“We need a way to counter the effects of the miasma more effectively. Not like this, when people have already succumbed, but during the battle itself,” Zhongli addressed Indarias and Bosacius one day in the middle of what he had tried to make a relaxing walk to clear his thoughts. But as beautiful as the day and the scenery was, it did not take him long to realise that it was not working. The yaksha who had been hanging back and trailing after him were surprised for being talked to, but came a little closer all the same as Zhongli continued to explain. “If our enemies truly intent to strike again, especially if we this time cannot catch them before they are ready, we are at a risk of losing entire companies worth of people to madness and hallucinations in the middle of the battle. Not to mention the resources, personnel and time it takes to heal that affliction afterwards. There has to be a way it can be counteracted or guarded against more effectively.”

“You speak the truth, my lord,” Bosacius admitted, scowling at the thought of the disarray and loss a wider spread of miasma would cause in the troops. “The adepti will combine their efforts and knowledge to figure out a solution.”

“Do not exclude me,” Zhongli snapped with a snarl, surprising both of the yaksha with his unexpectedly harsh tone. Zhongli grimaced at it himself and turned away, massaging his temples. He needed something to do or he would become the one about to go insane. “I’m sorry.”

“…There is no need to apologise. My lord is quite correct,” Bosacius replied, treading cautiously, but hiding his emotions under professionalism. It was their job to figure out how to ease their lord’s worries, so when something was eating away at him to this extent, they needed to find a way to respond. But when the best solution was in clear conflict with their duty to keep their god safe, they were in a difficult situation. “You will of course have access to any part of that process and we will heed your counsel and ideas on the matter.”

Zhongli sighed between his teeth trying to collect himself. He needed to calm down and be rational. But his patience with himself being unable to accomplish what needed to be done was running low. The only “work” he had done during these past few days, excluding the court hearing, was listening to the adepti report their findings in their investigation or patrols. Sometimes Ganyu will give him a rundown of something that had happened in the city or with the Qixing. All he was supposed to do, was maybe comment or instruct them further at times, but mostly just listen. Listen to keep up with what was happening but let them handle the rest. He was supposed to drink tea, take walks and eat the food other people made him. Just relax and recover. But the better he got; this arrangement was gradually making him nothing but relaxed. He needed to do something to feel like he still had a purpose. How was he supposed to be useful if he wasn’t allowed to work?

Two days, he tried to tell himself and take a deep breath. The Rite of Ascension will be held in two days. I’m almost back to full energy again. Just a few more days and I can do… something.

And to be at full energy for certain once the Rite was finally here, he needed to do nothing still. His body needed to wind down, heal its fatigue and regain the strength he had lost because of the poison and its aftermath. But with his mind getting in the way, they healers had had to force him to deep enough sleep to rest last night. His inability to relax was causing more work to others. It was a maddening cycle and the realisation that some people’s lives were on the line the more days passed had destroyed the balance he had tried to strike with himself. It was ironic, really: in his thought that Zhongli could not perform his duties as an emperor, Li Teng had made that situation into a reality. Zhongli right now was every bit as incompetent as his attempted murderer had claimed him to be.

<Stop.>

I can’t.

<…>

His fingers brushed through his hair again, as he sought clarity of mind with the help of physical sensation. He couldn’t stop these thoughts, no matter how he wanted to.

Maybe he truly was going insane.

<Would you want me to suppress the soldiers’ situation from your memories?>

A chill ran down Zhongli’s spine at the suggestion. You can do that…?

<Yes.>

A simple answer for a not so simple suggestion. That’s right: he had a trump card at the back of his mind that could force him to feel better. Could lock all the negative thoughts away from his mind and keep them locked away until he could handle them. He could forget the suffering of others to ease his worries until he was fit to address the issue. He could forget how much everyone else worked while he sipped his tea and watched the sunset.

“…No.”

Disgusting.

Morax sighed. <I knew you would say that.> After remembering all of it again, Zhongli would never forgive himself.

“Are you discussing with lord Morax again, my lord?”

“…Yes,” Zhongli replied to the marshal’s inquiry. He kept staring at the surface of the sparkling pond next to them, relaxing his arms again and trying to occupy his eyes with something while battling his inner demons. “Your suggestion is sound. Please proceed to make a team to investigate this issue post-haste. …Report to me when you have formed a plan of action.”

Bosacius saluted him, allowing no hesitation in his actions in favour of doing his duties as effectively as he could. “At once, your majesty.”

Zhongli saw the reflection of the yaksha’s lightning in the surface of the water when he teleported away. …And that was it. That was his contribution to this subject. A voiced wish and the one order it brought about. Now it was up to someone else to deal with. He was afraid to look at his own reflection, not knowing what kind of face would stare back.

“Rex Lapis?”

Oh, that’s right. Indarias was still here. Zhongli glanced in her direction and watched her shiver in place and steal quick glances in his direction even while trying not to look at him directly. Clearly, she was fighting an urge to do something she knew she shouldn’t. “Yes?”

Indarias visibly gathered some sort of willpower to speak her next words. “May I touch you?”

“Hm?” The question caught Zhongli off guard, enough to distract him from the reflections on the water. “Touch… me?” Indarias nodded emphatically and closed her eyes in anticipation of what he would say. Zhongli was unsure what she was planning to do in the case of either reply, but he was worried how snuffed out her flame would become if he declined. Luckily, he saw no reason to. “You may. But may I ask what you have in—”

Indarias’s glomp around his shoulders shut him up, while also answering his question. “AAAAAAH!” the fire yaksha screamed out in frustration way too close to his ear. “I’m just so mad! I’m going to rope brother Menogias into making a mini volcano with me!”

“A volcano?” Zhongli was so lost. Both because of the sudden hug and the disorientating, loud burst of emotions next to his eardrums, in addition to her words.

“I’m going to use one to cook every last person who keeps making you upset!” Indarias proclaimed, half hissing half moaning out her feelings, and suddenly shuddered and her hands around her shoulders tightened. “Wait, are we making you upset still?”

“Up… set?”

“I know! If only boiling bath treatment was enough! But those are actually good for you! Sister and I would always make one together back in the day. But who cares about that now?!”

Zhongli no longer had any idea what she was talking about.

“It’s so unfair!” Indarias sounded like she was shouting out her emotions in a random order. “They were so mean. You looked so good in that outfit brother pickup for you, I was so excited. Everyone worked so hard on the Rite! I was so scared…” She was crying but she was also angry enough that the tears kept drying up on their way down her puffed cheeks, blushed hot with rage. “And even still things keep making you sad! One volcano is not enough: I’ll make two!”

He was getting the feeling he’d need to stop her before Liyue had a bigger problem.

The fire yaksha whined in his ear. “I know I’m not supposed to, but I was just about to explode if had to keep looking at you look so… SO… AAAAH! I’m sorry! I know I’m breaching your boundaries. Brother will be furious with me for this…” For what she was saying, she sure wasn’t showing signs of letting go. It was more like she tried to glue herself tighter against him. “Just add this to the list of punishable offences. What’s one more…”

Busy processing the raw emotions she kept throwing at him, Zhongli almost missed her actual words. Almost. “List of punishable… There is no such thing,” he said exasperated.

Whatever was keeping Indarias attached to him turned into a repellent at his words, that is how fast she detached herself from him. Zhongli looked at her genuinely confused expression spreading to mix with all the other emotions she was letting out at once. He sighed, suddenly tired. This wasn’t a good opportunity to bring this topic up, for one he had wished all the yaksha could have been present to hear, but she had planted the seeds for him to grow. Might as well, at this point.

“I know you hold yourselves responsible for many things that have happened. But you should stop assuming I think the same,” he explained, studying the shock that froze the fire in Indarias’s eyes. “Not one of us came out of the previous month without making mistakes. Why would I blame you if you refuse to blame me, when we’re both guilty of the same thing? I might not agree with some of the things that you did, yes, but that is all in a level that can be discussed and worked through without the need for this internal bickering.” This was coming out wrong. He was too on edge to be more refined with his words. He sighed again. This was going to be another mistake to solve later… “If you all feel the need to be held accountable even so, we can discuss it together, with proper time, until we reach a conclusion that satisfies you. And…” He paused to shake his head. “My boundaries won’t be broken because of a friend who needs a shoulder to lean against. If you feel the need, you can do so anytime. Just refrain from screaming quite so close to my ear.”

The stare Indarias was giving him was making him more tired, so he turned away. Zhongli wasn’t certain she was emotionally stable enough to accept his words, nor was he stable enough to make his own feelings come across, but at least he had tried. He supposed this was closest to a perhaps working attempt he had come. For now, he was getting tired of the turmoil in his head. His body was recovering, but his mind kept getting more and more exhausted with each passing day, if not hour. Seeing her vent her feelings had calmed the storm somewhat, though, like she had screamed in his stead. Zhongli wondered if screaming would actually help him. He wasn’t the type to test it out though…

“You’re not mad?” Indarias asked after a while.

Zhongli shook his head. “I am not.” He wasn’t certain which issue she was asking about, but he wasn’t mad in any case. Not at her anyway.

Indarias’s eyes inspected the stone steps beneath their feet. “I’m sorry. For screaming in your ear.”

“It’s okay,” Zhongli muttered back. “Just be more careful next time.”

“Next—” Indarias gasped quietly, before biting her lips together and nodding, falling silent.

It seemed he had somehow managed to snuff out that flame in her after all, because she remained silent for a long time as they simply stood there. Eventually, Ganyu appeared to artificially break the tension, by walking over after finding them and telling Zhongli why she had been looking for him before she realised the tension in the air. But Zhongli grabbed onto the tether of something she had offered for him to do, even if it was merely a question of going over some schedules for the Rite she had revised. The preparations were planned on a looser schedule this time, allowing him more time between things so that they could take it slower, in the case something threatened to be too much. It wasn’t a huge shift and really did not need Zhongli’s approval, but he held a thorough discussion about it with Ganyu anyway, just to feel like doing something for a little longer.

It wasn’t even sunset yet when he announced he would retire to bed for the day. Although it was a different kind of tired than what he had been through recently, he felt exhausted. The day just felt so… long. It was crawling forward and offering him no breaks to his, well: break. He needed to sort out his thoughts and he hoped trying to force his body to sleep might help. It was too bad Morax had forbidden him from soul diving to see him. But at least the god was doing his best to support him. Zhongli wondered if he would have been even more of a mess without it.

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet. You should eat before you rest,” Wave Soother tried to persuade him still. “It doesn’t have to be much, but eating regularly is important.”

Zhongli refrained from groaning and pulled the curtain over the window to block the sunlight. “This day feels exceedingly long and I am tired. I only wish to go to bed early.”

“Then will you at least eat in bed?”

He sighed, deciding to accept the compromise. “Very well. I suppose I cannot fault that logic.”

By the time he had a low table set over his legs with pillows supporting his back, he regretted his decision. He hadn’t eaten in bed for a while now, so this felt like regression. Besides, he also felt like he was some kind of privileged prick complaining about not getting his way and making others jump a whole lot of hoops to satisfy his needs. He was the emperor so privileged was a given and he was making others work for him, but at least he could have tried not be a prick. The adepti, the healers especially, were only trying their best to manage his worsening mood while assuring he was still recovering properly. Be it snapping at the yaksha today or arguing about his meals, he shouldn’t take his frustrations out on them. He needed to refocus and find his centre to calm down. This was only going to get worse if he allowed it to continue.

“Hm?” he questioned quietly, when Indarias walked up beside his bed as he started to eat.

Indarias glanced back at Bonanus, who was firing of a message: “what are you doing, sister?” with almost telepathic accuracy with her eyes, before she addressed him. “My lord. May I join you?”

Zhongli for once felt thankful for his continuous failures with his subliminal messaging to the chefs to decrease the amount of food they kept making him. “Of course,” he said, watching Indarias sit down on the edge and scoot a little closer, curling her feet up under herself. Judging by her face, she was on the verge of getting very emotional again. “I know what I said about coming to me whenever you felt like it, but perhaps refrain from physical contact until we’ve eaten. Leaning over this table might prove hazardous.”

Sure enough, she looked like he had caught her in the act. He felt a little bad denying her so soon after giving a permission, but he’d rather not stain the bedsheets with rice and soy sauce if given a choice. Zhongli glanced at the options on the table and picked a plate of thin slabs of smoked fowl. “I’m afraid spicier foods are off my table for now, but smoked meat is one of your favourites, no?” he asked, also offering her one of the clean plates he had left. “You should try them with the almond paste and steamed horsetail stems. The combination is excellent.”

After she took the plate and started cautiously selecting food to eat, he let her be, without pressuring for conversation, focusing on his own meal instead. That she had come and joined him now was already more progress than Zhongli had dared to hope. He only looked back at her when he noticed her wiping her eyes in her sleeve. “Is it not to your tastes?” he asked conversationally, pretending not to know why she was getting emotional.

“It’s delicious,” Indarias replied and picked up another slab of meat with her fingers to put it in her mouth. “It is like they say. Food eaten with friends really tastes better.”

Zhongli gave a small smile down at his own portion. “So it does.”

Bonanus eventually wondered to the side of the bed as well and bowed to Zhongli with an awkward little smile on her lips before sitting down to whisper with her sister. Indarias replied by giving her the hug Zhongli had denied her (and spilling her food in the process, but he let it slide. Some sacrifices could be made). Bonanus didn’t quite seem to understand what was going on, but held and patted her sister’s back, allowing her to express her feelings into her shoulder. Zhongli let them be, finishing his meal mostly alone, but feeling a little happier for a change nonetheless. Besides, helping the adepti clean his bed after the meal offered him something productive to do. And Morax had been right about their expressions being amusing if Zhongli insisted on cleaning things himself. It was funny how the simplest things could make his mood just a little better.

That night, when he finally fell asleep, Zhongli found himself sitting in a field of flowers, in a scenery reminiscent of the very first vision he had after Morax joined him. But this wasn’t like his usual visits to the space within. He could not freely move around or speak. Instead, he felt like he was floating as part of the landscape, swaying in the soft wind along with the flowers.

Realising it was a dream, Zhongli allowed it take him, trusting its course Morax.

.

<How are you feeling?> Morax asked him two days later, when Zhongli woke in the morning from another guided journey through dreams. For the past few nights, he had worked meticulously to keep his vessel’s mind from exploring darker thoughts in his sleep.

Zhongli hummed, taking a deep breath to feel more awake. Perhaps less enthusiastic than I expected to be. But well-rested. Thank you.

<Would you like to share some of my enthusiasm?>

That sounds like something that would be detrimental to if not mine, the adepti’s sanity.

Morax scoffed. <You speak of it like I’m about to make you climb up the walls.>

That is what your enthusiasm feels like, Zhongli commented, sitting up to stretch. Just like last time, he had woken up before Ganyu came to check up on him. Although he could sense the yaksha guarding him nearby this time.

A flash of yellow brought Menogias to his room before he could call for them. “Good morning, my lord.” Menogias said and knelt down. “It is not yet time for you to wake. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing. I merely woke up naturally,” Zhongli replied, glancing at the crack of light between the curtains to ascertain the time. It was indeed an hour too early. He should have maybe slept some more, but he felt too awake for that now. An idea sparked in his head. “Would you accompany me for morning walk before the preparations are to begin?”

The yaksha looked up, containing his surprise well. “Where would your majesty like to go?”

“To the top of Mt. Tianheng.”

The wind that morning was a little on the cooler side, but gentle and refreshing. They had arrived just in time to see the sun peek over the horizon and change the blue colours of the early hours into golden ones. This was the first time since his trip to judge the treasure hoarders that Zhongli was outside the palace’s barriers. It had taken a lot of convincing to make the yaksha agree to take him here. Now all five of them were up here with him, which was the only compromise they had accepted. It was true that the possibility existed that their enemies had somehow slipped past all the patrols and wards and were waiting in ambush for him to step outside again. Until the day was done, possibly even after it, they could not be certain he would remain safe. The fate of his predecessor would always serve as a reminder of that.

But for some reason, Zhongli felt confident it would be fine. He trusted the yaksha wholeheartedly, even if only Indarias had shown any signs of warming up to him again. In addition, the healers and Morax had been right in their estimations when deciding on the date for their new attempt at the Rite of Ascension. He could at last feel the difference inside himself: he was stronger now. Perhaps not as strong as he had been that day in the Chasm, fighting off the Abyss, but in this state, he might have again been strong enough to heal the soldiers for some hours and come out with no negative effects. But he had come to terms with that not being the most effective solution. After realising his distress about the issue, the adepti had doubled their efforts in keeping the rest of the infected millelith alive. They had done their best to buy him more time, for which Zhongli was forever thankful. By the end of today, Zhongli would see to it that those soldiers again had a route to escape their torture. A much wider and straighter path than before.

Six or so hours from now, is it, if all goes well? Zhongli thought as he watched the sun rise higher and higher over the horizon. We’ve waited for it, but now that it’s here, it is yet to feel real again.

<You’re sceptical,> Morax deduced from his feelings. <After what happened last time, you’ve lost the ability to see the end of this particular path.>

What is it like to be a god, Morax?

<I would rather not answer that.>

Hm?

<I’ve always been a god. Even when living within a divine vessel, that is the core of my existence, which in turn changes and affects my vessels. I do not know what to compare it to. If I were to ask a human to explain what it is like to be human, I would unlikely receive the exact same answer twice. The same is true for gods. The closest I’ve been to experiencing life as a normal human, was the week I spent with you before we officially met. But I was very busy and stressed during that time. Other than that, I only have the pre-Rex Lapis memories of my vessels to turn to for reference, but I never tried to dig around those more than necessary without their permission.>

Then, it sounds like something I can only learn by experiencing it for myself.

He stood there, with the five guardian yaksha spread out behind him at the top of Mt. Tianheng, and watched over the peace of Liyue Harbor as the sun rose. The city Morax had built and protected with his own hands over the course of thousands of years. Zhongli wondered that if Morax’s job as a god was seeing the bigger picture like this, was his role as the human counterpart to bring him down to the streets to see and experience for himself all that he had worked for. The people of Liyue loved their archon. Today, Zhongli would step out in front of them and declare himself as Morax’s proxy in this world, with all the responsibility and authority that carried. And as much of the strength and knowledge of the eldest archon at his disposal as he could use. More than enough of what he would ever need. Or rather: would hopefully ever need.

It's really going to happen then, Zhongli mused one more time as the quiet atmosphere of the morning spread around him. The birds were singing as they too woke up. The plants sparkled in the mixture of light and morning dew. The sea crashed its waves gently against the shores and the flanks of boats. The world was alive. As he stood there, he wondered had he felt as alive with it as he felt now, ever since his brush with death.

<Don’t tell me you still had doubts? If you expect me to change my mind at this point, you are sorely mistaken.>

It had taken a lot of conscious effort from him to be able to stand here now like this. Accepting that the best he could do for others was to make certain he was at his full strength here today, had been an uphill battle after his near breakdown few days ago. After determining it could not continue, he had relied much on Morax for help, be it with meditation, dreams or direct talks. He had somewhat closed himself off from the world most times to manage it, refraining from talking even with the adepti in more than a few words and spending a lot of time by himself. In all honesty, the few words he had spoken with Menogias this morning might have been the most he had talked with anyone other than Madame Ping, who had been the only one remaining insistent enough to try when he didn’t answer right away. He knew they were uncertain was his current quiet acceptance true progress or not, but since he was a lot calmer, they (other than Ping) had not complained about it. He liked to think they’d rather him silent and distant than insane.

Zhongli smiled. No. I… want to give it a try.

Morax’s enthusiasm felt more tangible again after he admitted that openly. <And I look forward to it,> the god purred at the back of his mind.

Did you just purr?

<I am a dragon. At least call it a rumble.>

And that makes it less odd of a sound to hear from one of the most respected individuals in the world? Who happens to live inside my soul?

<How dare you call it odd? I might be a god and warrior of old but I am entitled to my own habits just as much as anyone.>

Zhongli’s smile turned into little laugh. The historians would have loved to hear that one. Himself from a month ago would likely have not even believed it, let alone felt free enough to joke about with the god himself. He couldn’t help but wonder how much having Morax for a roommate inside his own body would change him going forward.

Knowing that very soon a very stressed Ganyu would be searching for him frantically if he did not head back, he turned around to look at the yakshas. “Let’s go back. We best not mess up this second opportunity everyone has worked hard to achieve, especially by simply showing up late.”

The preparations were much the same. He would wash and cleanse himself with the help of the adepti in the baths. Afterward, eat a delicious breakfast, although he wasn’t alone in the room this time. Menogias had been forever grateful for another chance to help him with his clothes and had taken the time to upgrade them to meet his own standards better. Zhongli had specifically requested Bonanus and Indarias to attend to him again as well. Other than the quieter, official atmosphere, with everyone focused on keeping things perfect, the experience was the same: only a little slower than last time.

That was how Zhongli had wanted it to be. Up until the moment he grabbed the handle of the symbol of strength (needing a steadying breath before doing it), everything was as it had been the first time. As it should have always been. He wanted to chase the memory of the failed attempt further down his mind: tell himself that things had been corrected. That the failure didn’t matter. The sword that gleamed under his touch, with a hint of repairing its rusted edges, was proof of that.

This was how it should have been all along.

The main altar for the God of Contracts had always been an extravagant and ingenious show of craftsmanship. Now, prepared and decorated for the occasion, its complexity and detail had been elevated to new heights. It was a testament to 3700 years of history the people had walked with their archon. Rex Lapis was but the outermost edge of that weaved tapestry: made to continue the legacy with new patterns and colours.

Yiyan Temple was dedicated to the honour of past deeds, for the people to better understand the future those had made possible. Zhongli now stood between the two, in the present. He had inclined his head and bent his knees to the golden statue of a dragon and raised his hands in prayer. His last. After this, he would no longer offer prayers to the God of Contracts or any other god, for as long as he held his position. Morax had given him space to do this alone, to pray however he wished. It wasn’t about secrets, but mutual respect for their joint path. After he would stand up, Zhongli wasn’t expected to kneel in front of another again. Not even Morax.

The attendants of the temple were the only humans present inside, to aid with the proceedings. When Zhongli raised his head, having emptied his head from anything he could think of to pray about, they came closer, pulling off his gloves and aiding him taking off his shoes and socks until he stood barefoot in front of the altar. Where his skin touched the carved stone tiles, they slightly lit up in response. Zhongli felt the stone under his feet, wondering at the feeling of how alive it felt. The main altar for their god stood on a special platform: infused with adeptal energies but built by human hands. It always glowed in response to magic, even for normal vision users. This “living stone” as it was called was the trademark of the temple.

Zhongli turned around. Other than the floor around the main altar, living stone was also elsewhere in the temple, but the others only reacted to Rex Lapis. The entire way from the altar to the heavy double doors leading outside, the floor was lined with evenly laid-out rows of horizontal tiles, different from the rest of the floor. At his touch, they too would light up and the power embedded into them would strengthen his constitution. At the ends of each of the eight lines stood an adeptus, ready to aid in the process and officially give him the adepti’s blessing. The adepti chose sixteen from amongst themselves for every coronation. Zhongli wondered if this was the first occasion in history not a single yaksha was among the chosen.

He closed his eyes briefly, refocusing his thoughts. He would have to walk slowly, likely stop at times, to allow each line to light up in its entirety, before he could continue to the next. As he went on, an aura of power would spread around him, lighting up the upcoming lines without his direct touch. Hopefully in the end, he could walk out the doors as they opened without having to wait.

But he was getting ahead of himself. It was easy to focus on the part of the ritual directly in front of him. The Ascension ritual consisted of three parts, of which the walk outside and the blessing of the adepti was the second and him accepting the symbols of wisdom and strength in front of the people of Liyue was the third. Each of those two would grant him strength and further control of his power, but first, his body needed to be fit to receive it. His eyes landed on the rectangular smooth stone slate under the steps to the altar: the door to the crypts. First, he needed to connect with Morax one-on-one or the other steps would have no meaning.

Zhongli made his way down to the door on the floor that most people visiting the temple probably never questioned to be anything but regular floor. He had chosen Ganyu, Xiao and Madame Ping as his personal aides, who would also accompany him down. The first two of his choices had been very flustered at being chosen: this was apparently the first time Ganyu had been chosen and Xiao in the meantime had looked like he had wanted to refuse but couldn’t bring himself to. Ping on the other hand had accepted with a bright smile. When he stepped on the rectangular floor, the three chosen adepti joined him. Zhongli gave permission to the human attendants to activate the elevator and the floor underneath their feet gleamed to life at the edges, sinking through the floor and down into the earth.

Zhongli had never been to the imperial crypt. Which was to be expected: it wasn’t a place the public had access to or any real reason to be in. The only people who ever, rarely came here, were Rex Lapis, the adepti and the caretakers of the temple, as well as the Qixing and the emperor’s family upon the death of Rex Lapis. All the previous emperors had their memorial altars here, along with the grave of the God of Contracts, although no passage remained to the original tomb. Zhongli walked past the memorials of his predecessors quietly, glancing at them, wondering if one day he could come visit them all. He only took a detour to stop in front of the memorial for the 27^th Rex Lapis to pay his respects and allow Morax a moment of remembrance, but otherwise they made their way directly to the last room of the catacombs.

There was nothing here.

The room was more like a natural cavern, different from the rest of the orderly built structures. Some crystals lined the walls and the ceiling, glowing dim light into the space. There was no dirt or dust, no outstanding bumps or crevasses in the rock. It was carved straight into the bedrock of Liyue and sealed to remain as it was first made.

The three adepti stopped outside the door and bowed down their heads.

“We will wait for you here, your majesty. Call for us should you encounter trouble,” Madame Ping uttered, her tone official and respectful, but a soft, pleased edge marked her words.

“I shall,” Zhongli promised and stepped inside the empty room.

A door behind him closed and promptly disappeared into the wall, shutting him away from the eyes and ears of the world. If not for the faint glow of the gems in the walls, he couldn’t have seen anything. Ping had told him to “call”, but they both knew that only him or Morax could now open this cavern without considerable effort, nor could the adepti really hear him without some extra measures. Had he not been with Lord of Geo himself, the space would have felt claustrophobic. He could no longer hear anything from other side of the walls, but he knew that one of the three accompanying him had turned to return to the surface as soon as the door had closed. Very soon, somewhere far above, a loud bell would inform the people of Liyue that the Rite of Ascension had begun. Zhongli had heard that people had been gathering in front of the temple very early on today, nervously anticipating to finally hear the sound of that bell.

“To the centre,” Morax instructed.

Zhongli jumped minutely at how close the god’s voice was to him. He was again almost talking to him from the outside rather than only in his mind. He followed Morax’s instructions and came to stand right at the centre of the little room. There he raised his hands forward, keeping his palms pointed towards the ground, following the mental instructions Morax gave him on what to do.

“Do not send out power: here, you call the power to you,” Morax explained, watching through Zhongli as the floor of the cavern morphed under his vessel’s hands and the stone rose up as easily as if it was soft clay. “In this room, I am at my most powerful. It allows me to better support you and more easily address any problems during the process. Here we can reinforce your body to meet the needed requirements and better gauge its limits.”

The cave around Zhongli seemed to hum, as if responding to his presence and call. The rising stone had formed a chair in front of him. It reminded him of the throne of Rex Lapis, only grown straight out of the earth and made from one stone with less details. It was the type most people most often saw depicted in Liyue’s Statue of the Seven. Zhongli sat down on it slowly, more out of wonder and respect than nervousness or fear. The crystals around him glimmered, like stars were shimmering through them into the room.

Suddenly, Zhongli saw Morax. It was but shade in the air, like a ghost that distorted the light from the crystals, walking around his seat without the sound of footsteps, reappearing on the other side. Zhongli stayed still, keeping his back straight and eyes watching forward as was his instruction until Morax was ready.

“Relax. I’m with you all the way.”

“I know. Is that not the point?”

“Hah. Indeed.” The ghost came to stand directly in front of him, so tangible now that Zhongli almost saw him in colour. “Now close your eyes. We shall begin.”

Zhongli did as he was told, the cavern disappearing from his eyes until only the ghost of Morax remained for him to see against the darkness. He felt power surge up from within the earth, reaching for him. Enveloping him. Testing him. He was drowned under a sea of stone and dust and left to see for himself if he could breathe: if the sea would move at his command and let him float freely within. The earth spoke to him, expecting him to understand.

And Zhongli realised that he did.

The mountain was him. Its crest his head, reaching for the clouds; its foot his own, tickling the waters at the harbour. The dirt and gravel his flesh and tissues. The veins of metal and crystal his bones and tendons. The cavern itself beating like a heart.

He felt the weight of the houses built on top of him. The reaching roots of trees and flowers seeking nutrition. The feet of the people gathered outside, tapping against the roads. A mixture of voices echoing against the stone. The warmth of the sun on his surface and the coolness of the shade inside the caves. The little critters hiding in their holes. The brush of wind like a gentle touch on his skin.

And within: warmth. A presence of another, more vividly than before. A powerful feeling of belonging: the promise of fairness, trust and truth between two souls.

Inside the small cavern, a Contract was finally sealed.

Zhongli gasped in a breath, jerking awake from his trance, as if his body only just realised it had not been breathing for a while. Despite of his lack of awareness, he had remained steadily sitting on the seat of stone, his back straight, feet firmly on the floor and arms resting against the smooth stone. As soon as he was more aware of himself, he gasped again, this time in shock when he realised the difference.  Morax had once compared the Ascension to switching out of too tight clothes to comfortable ones, but that didn’t do what he now felt justice.

He felt so light, yet grounded and steady. It was like suddenly realising his body before had never been quite right: never moving exactly as he had wanted or lagging behind his thoughts.

But now there was only strength.

Assuredness that if he wanted, he could.

Easiness in his movements like never before.

Promise.

Power.

Was this really his body?

“Ah… I’ve missed this feeling,” Morax commented, with a contented sigh. “There is so much space. So much more room for me to be. Like moving from a dog house to a mansion, finally able to stretch one’s legs. Truly, you do not disappoint.”

Zhongli was busy steadying his breath. He wanted to reply, but he was at a loss for words, trying to get used to this new feeling. The cavern around him was shining much brighter now and thin veins flowing with the power of geo had spread throughout the floor, adding to the light. Even the chair had some veins in it, pulsing with power of…

Wait…

That wasn’t the chair…

“Oh? Hmm…” Morax mused as Zhongli raised his hand up to stare at it with wide eyes. The sleeve of his robes slipped down to his elbow, revealing more of the change underneath.

“Morax…” Zhongli said slowly, articulating his words as clearly as he could, turning his hand around to better understand what he was seeing. “What is this…?”

His hands were glowing. From the tips of his fingers down towards his wrists his skin was shining in bright yellow and gold, until it shifted quickly to a starkly different darker tone towards his shoulder. The veins he had thought had appeared on the armrest of his chair were instead pulsing in sharp lines down his arm while forming intertwining patterns, that were clearly visibly against the darker skin. Zhongli had heard of emperors growing longer nails or scales on their skin, but never anything like this.

“Those would be… my arms,” Morax replied, somewhat unhelpfully. “Curious…”

“Curious?” Zhongli repeated. He did not like the sound of that. “Was I not supposed to inherit some dragonic traits from you? What is this?”

“That is usually the case, yes,” Morax admitted and rubbed his chin in thought. “But somehow you ended up with something from my preferred human form instead. That doesn’t usually happen… There has been a case where one of my female vessels changed their gender whenever they called upon their more powerful form. But seeing clear traits like this from my secondary form doesn’t usually happen…” he pondered, sounding like he was deep in thought.

Zhongli wished the god would have sounded a little more assured in his reply. “So… this is simply what I inherited and not something I need to address as soon as possible?”

“That would be the case, yes,” Morax promised and smiled, a little proudly. “Do you not like it?”

“I… suppose it could have been worse,” Zhongli replied, setting his arm back against the armrest and closing his eyes, leaning his head back.

Morax chuckled. “Don’t sigh in relief just yet. That was only the first trait to manifest. You can expect others to appear as we proceed.”

“Oh sweet heavens…”

“Now that I am concentrating on detecting them, you also did seem to gain some more traditional traits in the process. Unless I am mistaken, you have scales under your ears.”

Zhongli’s hand shot up to feel the skin on the side of his neck and was met with harder, less bendy texture and curving ridges. They grew more on the back of his neck by the hairline, quickly fading into normal skin when going downwards, but no doubt also darker in colour enough to be visible. Again, he… supposed it could have been worse.

“That aside, how are you feeling? Get up so we can better feel the difference,” Morax urged, sounding a little like he was unwrapping a new gift he had excitedly expected.

Zhongli stood up and the chair started receding back into the earth as he let go of it. He was mentally cautious at first, but it quickly melted away at the face of strength he felt coursing through his body. He could understand how Morax was more comfortable now that his body could handle this much of the god’s leaking power. He was probably taking much more of it automatically as well. With union of their souls now almost complete, they were much more in sync trading both information and power. In regards to information the difference was a little harder to gauge, since it had been at a higher level to begin with, but with power the difference was clear as day. Zhongli had upgraded his little cup to hold much more of the wine in the bottle at once.

“How long did this take?” Zhongli asked, realising they had people waiting for them. The initial ritual usually took about an hour to complete. “Should we head back?”

“That took us about 45 minutes, so we’re slightly ahead of schedule, if you want to explore your new body a bit more first.”

“Oh, good,” Zhongli said, relieved he had not taken too long. “But let’s not keep them waiting. This change feels… natural. I think I can handle it.”

“As you please.”

Zhongli walked closer to the wall leading out and the doorway formed back into view, folding itself open for him. Xiao, Ganyu and Madame Ping came to his view from the other side, their attention turning immediately towards the wall he had disappeared behind when it started to move.

“Rex Lapis!” Ganyu piped up excitedly when she saw him, before schooling herself back to something more formal to fit the occasion. “We welcome you back, my lord. Has the Ascension ritual proceeded smoothly?”

“Everything is in order and proceeding without issues,” Zhongli reported, smiling to her in response. “The initial union is now complete.”

“Wonderful,” Madame Ping said warmly, bowing down her head. Zhongli saw her eyeing his arms with a hint of a surprised and curious expression in her eyes. Xiao and Ganyu bowed down as well, all of them stepping out of his way. “Shall we return to the surface, Rex Lapis? Everything is ready for the second phase of the ritual.”

Zhongli nodded and gestured them to raise their heads and follow, before he started heading back towards the surface. Walking past the hallways and rooms leading elsewhere in the dimly lit catacombs, he realised that compared to the trip the other way less than an hour prior, he could see much better into the shadows and spot more details in the memorials he saw glimpses of. His eyesight and night vision must both have improved.

Before stepping on the elevator to take them back up, Zhongli stopped, hesitating for a moment before turning around. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course,” Madame Ping replied, encouragingly. “Is something amiss?”

Zhongli shook his head. “No. I was just wondering…” He thought how to phrase it and raised his hands up to look at them again. “My body has changed and exceedingly more power is already at my disposal than what was before. From your point of view, can you sense that difference? Clear signs like this aside, am I… different? To be around.”

Madame Ping took a step forward and reached up her hand to hover under Zhongli’s own without touching. For a moment, she took in the sight of the brightly glowing skin before looking him in the eyes. “We can sense the change. Lord Morax’s presence within you is so much more palpable, that if I close my eyes, I can see him in you. Despite all the awful things that have happened, he truly chose someone wonderful to entrust his soul to this time.”

Zhongli huffed quietly, somewhere between bothered and flattered. He lowered his hands to meet with Ping’s, allowing her to close her fingers around his. “He is right here, watching and listening,” Zhongli promised for Morax.

“That is more than we can ask,” Madame Ping said, holding tighter onto him before letting go. “But if your worry was that you no longer felt like yourself, there is no need. More power or not, you are still you. That old dragon respects that boundary well. And if he doesn’t, I can scold him for you.”

Morax scoffed loudly in the back of Zhongli’s mind. <No respect, I swear,> he said rather fondly.

“He is quaking in his scales,” Zhongli translated helpfully.

“Oh, I’m sure he is,” Madame Ping chuckled before taking a step back and nodding towards the elevator behind his back. “You best get going, your majesty. Above us, everyone is eager to finally see and meet you. The rituals do not complete themselves.”

Zhongli let a little laugh pass his lips and turned around to step on the elevator. When all of them were on top, Xiao channelled his energy to the controlling system on the side wall, sending them back towards the surface. Zhongli had a few short seconds to look up and see the bright circle above them grow bigger, preparing himself, until the ceiling of the temple started to become better visible. One third of the Rite was done. Now another ritual and the total of eight lines of special stone awaited him. His newfound power would seep into the living stone, which would light up in response to his touch and eventually presence as he would walk across them. Reaching the adepti at the ends of the lines, their power would respond to his, bouncing back and combining with Morax’s power as one more layer of protection for his body.

The adepti and humans above were waiting for them in position as they returned to the main hall of Yiyan Temple. Immediately when the elevator stopped in place, seamlessly fitting into the floor, the sound of a singing bell rang throughout the room. A mechanical bell jingled a tune in Madame Ping’s hands, signalling his arrival and the start of the second ritual. The humans and adepti bowed down their heads. Madame Ping stepped off the elevator first, the mechanical instrument floating slightly above her hands as she started walking towards the door.

Zhongli followed a couple of steps later and Ganyu and Xiao walked side by side a little after him, carrying the symbols of wisdom and strength. The main doors of the temple would stay closed until he was close by. There was no telling how long it would take him to light up each line and absorb the resulting power to a part of himself. Once it was done, he would walk out of the main doors in front of the people of Liyue. He would receive and attune to Rex Lapis’ symbols of power in front of the them, finishing his Ascension and officially accepting his role as Liyue’s guardian deity and ruling archon.

Zhongli tried not to get too nervous about standing in front of the people: he needed to concentrate. It was the part of the ritual he had dreaded the most. But he still had a few moments to mentally prepare some more, while the second part of the ritual was underway.

His bare feet touched the first line on the floor, Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper standing at its ends to respond when his energy would reach them. But neither the adepti nor himself could react fast enough, when the stone gleamed to life under his touch. Its golden light spread outwards from his feet, reaching both ends of the line, while a pulse of the same glow travelled across the floor in front of him, lighting up the next line it touched as well. The pulse surged around the hall and on its path each of the eight lines lit up in sequence, until they shined their combined light into the room.

Madame Ping stopped on her tracks when the floor ahead of her lit up without warning and turned around to look at Zhongli in surprise. Everyone else, be it bowed down or waiting for him to pass, had raised their heads and turned to look at him. Zhongli had stopped dead as well, rigid in shock, trying to comprehend what had happened. The only sound in the room was the hum of stone and the innocent, serene tune of the mechanical bell.

Those and one more sound to Zhongli specifically, because Morax’s smirk audible. The god had been surprised as well, but he was indeed enjoying himself.

<Shall we?>

Art~

Chapter Text

Zhongli could feel his body tingle in response to the stone under his feet, as if something inside him was trying to escape its confines, coercing him to change. The surge of power that had ran around the room with him as the centre had not only surprised him completely, but physically left him shook. Like a feeling of a sudden drop turning your stomach, only it was his entire body. Suddenly his earlier feeling of overall power was lost and instead, it felt like a piece of some kind was missing: like something was just short of enough and he was so close to grasping it. But it was just out of reach. His body wanted something from him but he didn’t have a way to respond.

Next to that feeling was the knowledge of the eyes that were currently drained on him. This was not how this ritual was supposed to go. He was supposed to let the power inside him respond to new stimuli and settle into a more stable form, akin to a chemical reaction. So how could the lines be lit up so fast? He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had done something wrong. The gaze of everyone on himself made him want to turn back time and somehow redo this correctly. Somehow… Unfortunately, something like that was not part of Morax’s skillset.

…Morax? Zhongli questioned, eyes darting from a lit line to another, while trying to avoid the eyes of everyone else in the room. Is this thing broken?

<Oh please…> Morax muttered and rolled his eyes. <Why don’t we discuss this at a better time?> he suggested, urging Zhongli to act a little more confident during his own coronation. <Just trust me that you’re doing fine and finish the ritual. This unfinished nagging is uncomfortable.>

Finish… Zhongli suddenly understood why he felt so odd and turned his head to look at Mountain Shaper who had frozen in surprise like everyone else. A look to the other direction told him that Cloud Retainer had also only half opened her wings to begin their part of the ritual. Zhongli stood still between them, in the middle of the line they guarded: a line already lit on his own behalf.

The two cranes were shaken out of their confusions by his eye contact and straightened themselves back to more regal, less ruffled stances, spreading their wings wide above their heads. The light on the line started to change into a deeper, more orange hue, compared to the near blinding golden one. The orange tint spread from the two adepti back towards Zhongli, rising up from the line like a waving curtain. Power that had trickled around the hall wherever it wished was contained into a mixture of orange and golden aurora that enveloped Zhongli in its embrace.

Something shivered within him. The blessings of the adepti coursed through his body and mixed with Morax’s own, responding to the union of their souls. This was their contract, Zhongli understood. Right at this moment, he was becoming the fully responsible party of another divine contract and the nature of the god inside him hummed in acceptance. The empty feeling dissipated slightly, but did not disappear. Following the cranes’ example, the other adepti held back their questions and focused back on their duties. Since all lines were already lit, all they needed to do was channel their own energies, without the need to wait. Before Zhongli’s eyes, seven more veils of slowly and softly waving aurora rose up from the living stone, containing the surge of power he had sent out in front of him into these more tangible forms.

All he had to do now, was accept their blessings, by walking through these veils.

Zhongli could feel Morax almost physically nudge him to take the first step. Madame Ping smiled to him and turned back around to continue walking in front of him. Xiao also started to follow after him again, which helped Ganyu out of her stupor as well. The two glanced at each other briefly as they matched their steps to each other again and straightened their backs to keep performing their part of the ritual. Rex Lapis’ burst of power had been like warm ray of a summer sun peeking out from behind a veil of clouds. The kind that usually made one stop and turn their face towards the warmth to appreciate its gentleness after a cool shade or a chilly wind. There was something incredibly homely about it that neither could place. Something that left them feeling safe. Following Rex Lapis again as he now walked over the second, the third and then the fourth line, that initial burst was quickly refined into a shape they could see.

As the emptiness subsided, Zhongli could instead feel himself filling to the brim, until he felt like something was trickling out from him on every step. Each veil of light he passed, that feeling grew more powerful: he could feel it cling onto him and try to force its way back in. And when it could not, his body changed to accommodate: welcoming the excess power eagerly for him. His hair grew thicker, increasing in volume and strength, as well as permanently gaining the gradient that had earlier appeared only when he had actively used power. He could feel the scales under his ears harden and spread, plating down the side of his neck to his shoulders and back. His nails became sharper and stronger, enough that he knew he could use them to dig through stone. And as he passed through the eighth veil of light, the last excess power solidified atop his head, parting his hair to make room for a pair of pronged, smooth horns that glistened in the light like jade.

Some dozen metres ahead of him, the double doors out of Yiyan Temple opened, letting the light from within pour out and mix with sunlight. He could hear the people outside, their excitement spiking as the doors were opened, signalling to them that their wait was over.

Behind him, one by one, starting from Mountain Shaper and Cloud Retainer, the adepti who had participated in the ritual broke their stances and the veils of golden aurora faded back into the floor. Yet they continued to channel their own aura, letting it trail behind them as they left their spots and started towards the door. Zhongli stood still and waited for the doors to fully open and for the adepti to exit ahead of him. Madame Ping exited first, carrying the chiming bell out for the people to hear. As she stepped aside, each pair of illuminated beasts flew or ran out through the doors of the temple to the skies of Liyue. The people gasped at the sight of them and a mixture of adeptus and human musicians started accompanying the chimes of the bell, fulfilling its melodies to their full potential.

Zhongli stood at the edge of the light pouring in from the door, watching the last pairs of adepti exit. He had arrived here far sooner than he had expected.

“Indarias,” he called softly, trusting the yaksha would hear him even from her position outside. He raised his hand to his hair, happy that it hadn’t slipped completely out of shape despite the thicker ponytail he could have made with it. Leaving the hair flowing open had been the right choice. However, he had to untangle the crooked hairpiece from his horn as Indarias appeared next to him with a little flurry of flames. “Reattach this for me, please,” Zhongli asked. He knew this was the closest to a stall that he could get away with.

Indarias took the hairpiece in her hands. “I don’t think it goes well with your new horns, your majesty,” she admitted in whisper, eying the two branches of dragon jade growing through his hair without trying to stare too much. She raised the piece of jewellery up anyway, just in case he wanted her to keep her opinion to herself and do it.

“Is that so?” Zhongli uttered, slightly amused and set his hand atop her fingers holding onto the hairpiece, guiding her hands back down. “Then hold onto it for me, would you?” he asked, before turning his head back towards the open doors and resolving himself to take the last needed steps to reach them.

The skies above Liyue Harbor had been cleared of clouds and for a moment, his eyes lingered on its vibrant blue, before he turned his attention to the sea of people below it. The front of the temple had been reconstructed with a special ritual stage where he would finish his Ascension. Beyond it, spread on Yujing Terrace and the walkways, balconies and rooftops of the city around, he could see the people of Liyue.

And they could now see him. For those who didn’t know him, he appeared every bit as divine a sight as they had hoped to see after everything that had happened.

“Rex Lapis is back,” someone would whisper in relief while the people around them cheered the same sentiment. Their god had been murdered, lost, threatened, betrayed and almost murdered again. And the people of Liyue themselves had briefly lost the favour of their beloved archon. Seeing physical proof of him after so long now appear through the doors of the temple, walking from shadows to sunlight, was like a promise their days of anxiety would end: a sign of hope after all the rumours, uncertainty and death.

“Look,” a father would say to the children he had raised on his shoulders to see; one sitting on his shoulder while the other pressed his palms against the other, eagerly leaning forward to see just even just a little better. “That is the emperor. He is finally back with us again.”

The sight of a regal man with the horns of the ancient Exuvia atop his head was seared into the memory of his children and others like them. This was the first sight of Rex Lapis most of them had ever witnessed and it would remain in their memory for decades to come.

Another parent would soothe their child by holding her closer as the girl’s hands slightly tightened around their neck. “No need to be scared. Rex Lapis will always be your friend. He will protect us from the evils of the world.”

“He will?”

“Yes.”

With the royal clothing, the horns on his head and the scales armouring the back of his neck, even for the people who knew Zhongli, it took them a moment to recognize him.

“You knew?!” Chongyun gasped at Xingqiu when he realised his friend did not share his level of surprise when he recognized who had stepped onto the balcony. “No wonder you’ve been acting weird these past few weeks whenever I bring the emperor up.”

Xingqiu laughed, keeping his eyes on the man up before the people, letting the sight be engraved into his memory. “My dearest friend, it was a sworn secret I was dedicated to protect. It is truly most fortuitous for us all to be standing here today. Had we betrayed the man who has endlessly toiled to make it all possible, it would have remained as a stone weighing my heart for years to come. Alas, never did we think the threat to the emperor’s life could come from amongst the few who had met him.”

“I know.” Xiangling briefly paused her waving towards Rex Lapis, which she was doing in hopes that the emperor might see and look at them. “I was so worried thinking about all the awful things that happened to him that I even lost focus while cooking at times.”

“Wait, you knew as well? Why am I the only one out of the loop?” Chongyun sighed and returned his attention to the man who he now realised he had casually talked with, without even realising who he was. He could but hope he had left a good impression because he doubted a second chance would come around.

Those who had met the emperor before the disaster of the previous Rite of Ascension, could now see him again on his feet and fully healthy again. Only the words from the Tianquan and the Yuheng, who had been permitted to see Rex Lapis a few times, had been their source of information about his condition, except for those who had been allowed to see the judgement of the traitor. But even compared to what they had seen before, here stood someone some could not believe was the same person. The power many had doubted had taken a form they could now both see and feel, leaving them shook, while those who had believed and given their respect from the start felt like they had been gratified: like some justice had been served.

“How do you feel?” uncle Tian asked from Ningguang from his less conspicuous spot behind the row of the more upfront members of the Qixing on their assigned seats to the side of the crowd.

Ningguang looked at Rex Lapis greeting the crowd. The last she had seen him, he had still clearly been not at full health, although much better than the few times before that. But now that same man stood tall and radiated authority. What did she feel, seeing it? She glanced at Keqing next to her, who was slightly vibrating on her seat and clearly mumbling something to herself under her breath, eyes glued to Rex Lapis. Ningguang was fairly certain she could read the word “horns” on her lips.

She returned her eyes to the emperor and and smiled. “Let me think about it for a while. I cannot allow this to go to waste because I couldn’t find the correct words.”

Close by, but more hidden among the sea of shadows and people, Yelan felt conflicted. She had had her doubts and almost everything she had learnt and heard after the thought had crossed her mind had fit into the puzzle. She had figured out who the emperor was earlier than almost everyone. She had decided to keep that theory to herself and not mettle with the divine, when clearly, she did not have all the information. Now, she had proof that she had been correct, which should have been satisfying. Yet finally seeing the emperor about to take the last steps to achieve godhood that should have rightfully been his weeks ago, it made her question that decision.

If she had decided to try and find out more, giving into her instincts to know and investigate: could she have found out about the plot before it had happened? Could she have prevented the Contract from being broken if she had only stayed closer to the palace and aware of its goings on, instead of focusing on other things? Knowing she could have changed so much irritated her to no end.

Yelan watched as the new Rex Lapis at last met his people. The emperor was much more subdued than what Yelan remembered his predecessor to have been. The previous coronation was fresh in her mind to compare to as she saw this one proceed. The same kind of strength yet so different in approach. A totally different presence, even while her brain was trying to tell her that this was somehow the same person. She repeated to herself a vow from way before when she had first met the emperor: do not get on his bad side. In fact, she hoped she would be allowed to do some work for him to make up for the fact that she could have been the one to prevent a near disaster to her country, had she just been more observant.

Rex Lapis had briefly stopped up on the entrance way after the doors to allow both himself and the people a moment to meet each other. He then stepped up on an adeptus walkway to cross the stone railing and descend onto the ritual stage. People followed his every step; cheering, waving and praying as he made his way onto the ceremonial stage the adepti and few chosen lucky workers had built. The stage stood at little over the height of an average adult’s head, still allowing everyone to see him. The crowd quieted down little by little as the adepti aides also came to the stage, carrying the divine symbols to place them in front of their lord.

“Ooooh, I bet he’s so uncomfortable,” Hu Tao giggled, with the widest grin on her face anyone had seen in ages as Zhongli stopped at the centre of the stage. “Go go go! You're doing great, old man, you got this.” Oh, she would so remind him about this for years to come. If only to live through it herself a few more times.

Zhongli stood still and followed silently as Ganyu and Xiao set down the artefacts on the two pedestals beside him, one on each side, before they retreated to the sides of the stage. There was a swirl in his stomach, compelling him to stand up straight and not do anything unnecessary. The people’s cheers in response to his arrival was a tad overwhelming, but he understood how much reverence Morax commanded. As Rex Lapis, he would have to learn to be the one to receive it in the god’s stead from now on.

Just one more thing he needed to do before that could officially happen, however.

He stepped up between the pedestals, but where he should have spread his hands to call for the artefacts to respond to him, he instead turned his head to see the musicians on the side. The confusion in the air was palpable as the music that had started to build up died down instead at his command. A glance over his shoulder and up to the front entrance of the temple and Madame Ping lastly turned off the mechanical bell.

Zhongli raised his hand to quiet down the confused murmurs rising from the sea of people. Soon the entire plaza was silent, nervously waiting for him to speak and tell them why the ritual had suddenly been interrupted. Zhongli had only ever spoken in front of a large group when holding lectures, but his experiences as Rex Lapis had had him stand in front of others quite a few times now. With this many people having their eyes drained on him, looking at him with nervous expectation and worry, he felt he finally understood what Hu Tao meant when she talked about “boss battles”. He wasn’t a bad speaker, by any means, but he was happy Morax was there to help.

Between him and the people, he could sense a divide. Two of them, to be exact. They had wanted him to return and now cheered for him to take the throne, but what they had seemingly forgotten was that as things stood, that could not happen. The first divide had to be cleared before this ritual could be completed. The second was a later hurdle he’d have to address.

“Before the Ascension rituals can be concluded,” he started speaking with clear voice that rang across the crowd all the way to the back with the help of some adepti techniques. “There is something we must do.” He could see in a few faces that there were at least some who suddenly understood what was missing from the equation. “’Rex Lapis’ is a title held by a person chosen by the God of Contracts to protect and watch over his people in his stead. The ‘emperor of Liyue’ is a title agreed by the adepti and the people of Liyue, to be held by that divine vessel, whom they are to respect and honour as they would the Lord of Geo himself. This agreement is what we refer to as the Contract of Mortal Divinity.”

He paused for a few seconds to take a slow breath to speak evenly. The monumental nature of what he had to do in Morax’s stead was solidifying now, after days of talking with the god about it.

“As I am certain you are aware, a few weeks ago that very Contract was breached. And as long as it remains broken, the coronation and the Ascension ritual do not hold the meaning they once did,” he stated, careful with weight of every word he said. He sensed the restlessness in the crowd and raised his hand again to quiet them down, trying to make his voice be a little softer to reassure them. “There is no need to be nervous. The God of Contracts has seen and heard the will of your hearts and has decided to reinstate the Contract of Mortal Divinity. However, contracts by nature cannot be signed by only one person.”

The three adeptus healers appeared on the entranceway above him. The people’s attention momentarily left Zhongli as behind him Wave Soother and Xiánshen raised a big scroll from Storm Chaser’s hands and rolled it open. The healers held the refined curls and lines of text on the paper up for everyone to see.

“This is a rewritten version of the old Contract,” Zhongli explained. He had prepared it as per Morax’s instructions only yesterday. “No changes have been made to its original form, but allow me to summarize its contents.”

Everyone was silent as he listed out the main parts of the Contract. How the God of Contracts was to choose a divine vessel to watch over Liyue in his stead: with the requirements that the vessel was mortal and lived in Liyue. How the divine vessel was to then assume the role of the emperor and hold the highest governing, military and judicial authority within its borders; honouring their responsibility and given duty, adhering to all the laws of Liyue and working for and defending the country with the help of the God of Contracts. How the people of Liyue and the adepti were to respect the choice of the God of Contracts and accept the divine vessel as his proxy in this world. How they were meant to aid and protect the vessel and work together for all of Liyue. How in doing so, they were permitted to correct, disagree with and chastise the emperor should the divine duties be neglected or the decisions be harmful. How the God of Contracts was to accept the will of the people and the will of the divine vessel as the chosen course of action and refrain from controlling the vessel fully or against their will. How the adepti were to defend Liyue at the divine vessel’s orders from both inside and outside threats. And how only the God of Contracts ever held the power to strip the divine vessel of their status or power and to choose a new successor.

“Should anyone wish to read the Contract in full, it shall be made available for the public to see after the coronation,” Zhongli promised, but closed his eyes momentarily to add. “That is to say, if you will now agree to accept and sign this Contract. That is a question I must ask. Should anyone have grievances about its contents or wish to amend the terms, you are now permitted to speak up.”

He gave everyone some time, waiting to see if a human or adeptus would object or request an amendment. He heard some murmurs and whispers, mostly of what seemed to be someone or other trying to comprehend what was even happening to someone standing next to them. But no one spoke up in disagreement.

After a moment of quiet with no objections had passed, Zhongli slid his loose sleeves down to his elbows, giving the people the first better look at his changed arms in the process. “Very well.” He raised his hands in front of his chest, his fingertips hovering just short of touching each other. A strong golden glow appeared between his palms and started trickling down his arms to the ground like flowing sand. At his feet when it hit the ground, the golden sand was absorbed into the ceremonial stage and started to spread around like thin, branching rivers or veins on a leaf. “Then come together now and connect your wills with mine,” Zhongli said, steeling himself to concentrate on the technique and his words at the same time. “Our united will shall represent that of all of Liyue. We will sign this Contract anew for all of those not present today: young and old. For our country and its children, for generations to come.”

The golden threads were spreading outwards from him, snaking under the entire crowd and up the wall and beams of buildings to reach even the people on the roofs. They spread beyond even the people furthest away from the stage, branching across the Harbor in search of people who wished to join after receiving the message engraved within the glow. The threads netted themselves across the city and little grains of the sand floated upwards from their paths. One by one, then by dozen and hundred, humans and adepti closed their eyes and raised their hands or inclined their heads to pray. Behind Zhongli, the golden threads detached themselves from the ground and climbed up through the air like crystalline branches until they reached the rewritten Contract. The tips of the threads dissolved back into sand as they came in contact with the paper and this time it was the parchment that absorbed it all.

As the wills of the humans, the adepti and a god become one, a moment from history was relived and with it a new chapter in Liyue’s history began. Morax’s power seeped into the terms of the agreement, turning it into a divine contract. All the connected paths of flowing, golden sand brought with them the prayers of the people. With them, three seals carved themselves into the paper: three symbols of Mora, with a different loop of the unbroken line coloured-in for each one, all fitted inside a symbol of geo.

The nature of the god within Zhongli responded with glee to the powerful agreement. Morax might have been as concentrated as him on completing the signing, but the core of his being rumbled with satisfaction over the feeling of steadiness and completeness it gave them. The feeling lingered even as the glow of the sand faded and branching lines retreated back into the earth.

“It is done,” Zhongli called for the people to raise their heads and open their eyes and see the finished signatures they had created. “The Contract of Mortal Divinity has been reinforced. And as per the ancient words that have journeyed with us to this day: those who break their contracts, will suffer the wrath of the rock.”

The people were silent, but clothes and feet rustled in place as they recovered from the experience. It hadn’t demanded anything from them physically, but everyone was currently vividly aware that history had been written and they had been a part of it. It also was not often that someone could as much as sense the presence and power of a god, let alone touch and connect with it so personally. Some were shaking, barely standing on their feet, from the exposure.

The Contract was in place and there was no longer any reason to delay. Zhongli did not feel it appropriate or fair to demand the musicians to pick up their instruments and continue to play, pretending the Rite was proceeding as it normally would. He also did not want to make an awkward pause in the proceedings because he did not know what more to say in this moment, or leave the people to handle this event on their own. So, he spread his hands decisively, arousing a loud gasp from the crowd as the two divine symbols gleamed to life on their pedestals.

The symbol of wisdom flared to life under his palm. Its centre lit up and an arrangement of carvings decorated its sides as it accepted his call. The contraption floated up from its spot and hovered between his palm and the pedestal, spinning steadily around its axis. On Zhongli’s right, the symbol of strength lost its shape under the same kind of glow and reformed. Its shape elongated and thinned, the rust and other signs of age or degradation dissolving into dust to make way for a new, stronger surface. Under Zhongli’s hand the sword transformed into a polearm of pure geo, brown with gleaming gold mapping its edges, uninterrupted in its flow of shapes from the tip to the bottom end.

The polearm snapped up to connect with his hand and Zhongli closed his hand around it, wondering at the easiness and lightness he could feel wielding it was like. Spinning it a few rounds in his hand as a test he could not resist, he turned his attention to the symbol of wisdom. He called it up to himself with a flip of his hand and wrist. The stone dumbbell circled around him like a little moon orbiting a planet, before it settled above his open palm. It much felt like a moon as it hovered above his touch: a force to lower and raise his tides as a steady cycle of power he could predict.

Zhongli looked up towards the people to meet with their eyes one last time as he was, before he closed his own and let the presence of the artefacts consume him.

Where light and shine had been the show and proof of his power up until then, now the skies turned dark. The burst of power spread out like a shockwave, not powerful enough to knock anyone over, but visible enough for everyone to see and tangible enough for them to feel it brush against their skin, leaving shivers in its wake. The mountains around and the earth underneath them rumbled, their voice so low and all-encompassing that instead of registering to human ears as a sound, they felt it like an extra weight compressed into the air. All winds stilled and the sounds of the ocean left everyone’s ears. As the sky above turned dark as night, the sun retracting its light into a faintly glowing sphere and something drowning even artificial lights under its influence: momentarily, all senses were freed to only concentrate on feeling.

It lasted barely a few seconds, before a flash of gold through the dark captured everyone’s attention: two eyes opening up to clear the haze from their senses and return the world to normal. The sky regained its colour, lighting up the day again. The mountains stood quiet above their heads, watching over them as they always had. Winds were freed from imprisonment and let softly wave the hair and clothes of the god that now stood before them.

In the span of a few seconds, weeks of waiting that had felt like multiple months, were over: the rituals had been concluded.

Rex Lapis had ascended.

Hmm… I don’t feel that different, Zhongli commented as his own senses returned from what felt like flash long trip from the deepest cores of the world to the highest clouds and back. He felt like his eyesight and hearing had yet again taken a step to improve, becoming more selective to what he wanted to hear or see instead of a cacophony of noise and detail. But strength that coursed through him felt very much the same that he had already somewhat gotten used to.

<That’s because despite of everything, you’re still you,> Morax replied. Zhongli could feel the god as he was standing beside him, their souls perfectly in tune. <Only, that I am now you as well. And in turn, you are me. Our strength comes from that together we are one. As exactly the kind of god as you want to become.>

Zhongli looked over the crowd as the people erupted in cheers. For a while he could only stand there, gazing over the world with new eyes. He released the symbol of wisdom of the hold he had, letting the dumbbell continue its orbit around him. It was relaxing, somehow, helping his wandering thoughts back to the present. Should I… be doing something? Hold a speech? Talk to the adepti?

Morax looked over and listened to the sea people. <Let them be for a while. The official things can be postponed until everyone has had a moment to express themselves.>

Alright. But Morax, Zhongli changed his tone and resisted the urge to frown. We need to talk.

Morax blinked once before he started laughing. It wasn’t the type of low chuckle or badly muffled amusement like usual, but an unhindered burst of released stress. It was like Morax too was finally able to let go of some deep-rooted heaviness. <I am always happy to talk with you.>

Good, Zhongli replied, slightly salty. His new appendage he did not appreciate flinched a little against the stage as he tried to figure out his new muscles. Now tell me how to move this thing.

The feelings spreading on Yujing Terrace were a truly mixed bag. People were both laughing and crying, eagerly piping up with friends or deflated against their loved ones, out of energy. Quite a few adepti also seemed shook or emotional, but most remained stoic on the surface. Zhongli used the time the people needed to get through the height of that emotional wave to figure out how to move the dragon tail and its cloud-like curls eloquently enough to not embarrass himself (further). Not that the people seemed to mind at the moment.

He smiled back to the people cautiously when they called out to him and raised his hand to wave once more, even if it did feel a little awkward. The adepti returned the ceremony to its course after a while and the musicians managed to pick up their instruments again. The Qixing stood up to greet him, swearing their oaths to support Rex Lapis and the country together with him. Ningguang held a short speech of her own, speaking of the trust and future of the government. After that, Zhongli offered the people his own promises of prosperity and oaths of protection, as per custom.

A thought came up to him when he finished and listened to the claps and cheers, but he decided against it. He could have just gotten down from this stage above them to interact directly with the people. But—

<Go for it.>

…I shouldn’t.

Morax shrugged and gave his mind a little poke of encouragement. <Why the ever not? You want to close the gap between Rex Lapis and the people, no? Why not start now?>

Don’t you think they’ve experienced enough for today? I feel I have. Zhongli suddenly felt like he was more keenly aware of that second divide he needed to work on, standing up here above the people with the yaksha guarding the bottom of the stage so no one got too close and the newly surfaced divine energy coursing through his body. He truly wasn’t a human anymore.

<I actually think that starting now might make it easier for you later,> Morax countered. <Gaps created by social status tend to only widen with time if they remain unaddressed. Best not let this gap widen further than it already has if you intend on closing it.>

Zhongli thought on it, finding himself agreeing although he still wasn’t sure his idea was a good one. Even so, I do not think now is the right time. The celebrations surrounding the Rite of Ascension will go on for several days in the city. I can meet with the people face to face later. We should finish the remaining official business for today.

<A sound plan. I have no objections. Then shall we proceed?>

After the Rite of Ascension, the rest of the day was usually dedicated to the official audience in the throne room, where Rex Lapis officially greeted the Qixing in person, as well as the nobility and high society. Then, there would be a celebratory feast in the evening in the outer palace, where people recognized as accomplished members of the society had been invited. Although Rex Lapis was usually in charge of making that selection, the finalization of it this time had been left to Ganyu, since it had fallen on the time Zhongli had spent meditating in the garden to keep his sanity. So, although he had discussed it in the beginning as to what type of people to invite and Zhongli actually had no idea who was in the final list. But it wasn’t like he knew much of anyone. This time around, there was also only one family member present, which was unusual.

But all those people, Hu Tao included, could afford to wait, because the schedules deviated from the norm during this occasion. Zhongli did sit down on the throne for the first time as an official emperor for a while and some people did gather to greet him, but the meeting was kept brief in favour of not having those who did not have the luxury of time wait any longer.

“Ah, your majesty,” doctor Baizhu greeted him with a tired voice, after getting over his slight surprise in seeing him, and stood up from his chair as the doors to the room burst open. He looked like he hadn’t slept well in weeks. “How lovely to see you. Congratulations on your successful Ascension,” he gave Zhongli his best wishes as they walked over to each other. “I am afraid I was unable to attend, as we could not leave these people on their own. But your… message did reach us and we were able to witness the moment you joined the higher beings from afar.”

“Doctor Baizhu,” Zhongli greeted him with a nod, but his eyes wandered to the still close to a hundred beds that spread around them. The air in the room was thick with medicine, incense and mixed bodily secretions. The patients lying on the beds were all silent.

“They’ve been made to sleep, your majesty,” Storm Chaser explained from behind him. “It is not an effective solution long-term and it takes a lot of resources to keep them in a sleep deep enough to not be plagued by nightmares. We’ve warded the area the best we can, and dispelled what miasma from their bodies that we have been able. Unfortunately, some human doctors and nurses have also become exposed to the leaking miasma as time has passed, so we’ve had to dismiss some and revise a cycle to protect the health of the remaining staff. It left the people here understaffed for a time.”

“Are there any sick at the moment?” Zhongli asked, walking up to the closest bed to look at the soldier lying on it.

“Yes, your majesty, to a varying degree,” Baizhu replied. “Many started experiencing nausea and headaches that common medicine was ineffective against, which in turn has caused them to grow fatigued and made their work subpar, despite a few soldiering on. Eventually some started having nightmares and minor hallucinations. A few days outside the adepti wards away from the miasma has been enough in most cases. As for the soldiers…” He cleared his throat. “I feel it is my duty to tell you this, but I hope your majesty understands I blame you not for how things have come to pass. That said, although the adepti have now fully returned to our aid and the physical injuries of the patients have been mostly cured, the psychological trauma of this experience will likely cause severe mental decline and other issues for, if I dared to guess, most of these poor soldiers.”

Zhongli nodded slowly, eyes locked to the leaking black gas that lingered around the man in front of him. He had not been able to see the miasma like this before, but now it lingered in the air and snaked around the bodies of the people in the room. As disgusted by their stench as he was, it did make the miasma that much more palpable thing to fight against. “Gather all the affected people here. And everyone else who has been involved or visited this room as well,” he instructed the adepti, glancing towards Baizhu and the thin thread of miasma circling the doctor’s head that looked like it was trying to sneak its way inside the body through the eye socket.

“At once, your majesty,” a junior yaksha responded and disappeared.

“Do you intend to check and heal them as well?” Storm Chaser asked. He tried not to show it, but Zhongli could see that although the Rite of Ascension was completed, the healer was still to fully let go of the mindset that Zhongli’s condition had to be closely monitored.

“Yes,” Zhongli replied, nodding, and raised his fingers to the smoky snake of miasma circling Baizhu’s head. The glowing veins of geo on his arms pulsed a little as he fingers touched it. The gas recoiled away from his touch and sizzled silently, as if trying to fight back, but the effect of his powers on it caused the little trail to disperse and die out.

From Baizhu’s point of view, he only saw a slight glow in Rex Lapis’ fingers before the throbbing start of a headache that had been bothering him suddenly left him alone. “Hm?” he uttered, surprised and took of his glasses to rub his temples as Zhongli lowered his hand. “My apologies, might I inquire what your majesty just did?”

“You were on the verge of getting affected by the miasma as well,” Zhongli explained and started taking off the outer layer of his ceremonial clothes. Ganyu appeared by his side to help him out. “Judging by you reaction, you were already feeling a little off, no? The miasma does not discriminate on whom it chooses as a host. When have you last taken a break yourself, doctor?”

“I only got back here yesterday morning after taking a scheduled break. The effects do not usually appear quite this fast.” Baizhu looked thoughtful as he looked at how Rex Lapis rolled up the sleeves of his fancy robes. “I was under the assumption my headache today was caused by my general lack of sleep recently. It is not like other people have stopped getting sick because of this incident, so I’ve been busy outside of tending to these soldiers as well, although my darling little Qiqi has done a remarkable job helping out in the pharmacy in my absence.”

“You were able to tell he was affected, my lord?” Storm Chaser asked curiously. “Personally, although I hate to admit it, I cannot differentiate between the clusters of miasma in this room. It is much too widespread.”

Zhongli looked at the trails and clouds of miasma. “I can see it. It is like some type of gas, circling the affected people like a living being. Looking at it like this and thinking back to how it behaves, it much reminds me of a parasite with a mind and goal of its own.”

“What kind of goal could it have, your majesty?” Ganyu asked, looking around, trying to see what he did.

“To spread, perhaps. Perhaps even kill its host or break their mind,” Zhongli theorized. “I doubt it functions under the same type of norms a normal parasite would. Nevertheless, we have to be rid of it. It is also possible that some portions of it have spread out of this room with the affected doctors who have been dismissed, risking this affliction spreading to more people.”

“We did advice our staff to refrain from interacting closely with other people as much as possible until the symptoms had passed,” Baizhu assured. “But if your majesty thinks it could potentially be actively seeking ways to spread outside, we should make an assessment of their families at least, just in case.”

“Yes,” Zhongli said slowly, mind wandering to wonder at the origins of the miasma and its creators. He reached out his hand towards the soldier nearest to him and watched gas try to coil around his hand as he put it close by, only to recoil backwards as if realising he was an unsuitable host. As soon as it seemed to confirm him as a threat, the miasma thickened, getting closer together and to its current host, starting to make its way back inside the soldier’s body through his nose and ears. Zhongli frowned and acted quickly, closing his fist around the thickest congregation of miasma, and although it looked like he was grabbing nothing at all, the miasma spasmed and sizzled violently around as he pulled his hand back, forcing most of the miasma to disperse. Some of it however, managed to escape inside the body. Extracting them from within it was a much more laborious task.

Zhongli looked at the remains of what he had grabbed disappear into nothingness from his skin as he opened clutched fist. What are you? he wondered at the disappearing gas. And who made you?

The adepti gathered up all the people who had been involved with the healing process, other adepti and exorcists included, into the room once again. To his surprise, some of his former co-workers were also among the people who the adepti gathered. They had come here multiple times to take care of the ones who had died. Zhongli was thankful that they at least seemed unaffected, although he wished they did not look quite as ready to faint whenever he looked at them.

When everyone was present, it was time to get to work.

Forgoing the official audiences entirely, Zhongli intended to stay here today until he would have to attend to the evening feast. Until then, his time would be dedicated to freeing these people at last from the remnants of the battle in the Chasm. Being able to clearly see the miasma in the air, and with him much more capable in general, the entire process was a lot more effective than before. He could not do everything at once, since many of the soldiers would need multiple treatments and assessments in between of their status. But watching the snakes of gas thrash violently to escape his sphere of influence was very satisfying even so.

Hours of dispelling the miasma, until the last minute, after which he left it to the adepti.

A quick break that consisted of a quick clean-up and the adepti putting him back in clothes befitting the upcoming celebrations. Not perhaps enough time to switch gears completely but as much as he was going to be given before his other duties called him. He had dismissed most of his new features (especially the tail, which he had actually hidden as soon as he was off the stage), but left the horns and the arms be for now. That was a combination flashy enough to count as keeping with the tradition of the form expected of Rex Lapis to symbolize his Ascension during the feast, but did not require him to be especially cautious with anything or impede him from acting normally (like the tail would have).

Then, onto a feast befitting a newly crowned emperor: enjoyed while meeting and greeting many people from the high society and accomplished individuals from all trades. And to his surprise, many of the people he considered his closer friends and acquaintances, as well as all the victims of the kidnapping incident and their closest families. Ganyu had done a lot of research to gather up the people from Zhongli’s life without his input. But not enough for her to not act bashful and deny its importance and amount when called out about it, of course.

To end the long day, which had started for him before sunrise, Zhongli briefly met with the Qixing, discussed his schedule for the next day with Ganyu and got a surprise hug attack from Hu Tao as soon as he was a little away from the public eye.

“I could tell from a mile away that you’ve been holding back ever since the start of the feast,” Zhongli noted as she pouted when he was not jostled by her jumping at him. “Plus, I should tell you that my senses are rather sharp at the moment.”

“Aiya, boo to that I say. No one told me you’d get more boring after turning into a god,” Hu Tao complained with a grin, unable to hold back a little giggle as she stepped back and looked at him up and down. “’God’…”

Zhongli sighed. “Spare me from your more detailed opinions.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have all the faith you’ll do just great. Everyone in Liyue will see it soon enough too,” Hu Tao said cheerfully and hopped around him, inspecting every little detail. “And I have to admit you do look great, horns and all.” She tiptoed to poke them to see how sharp they were. She enjoyed his annoyed glare, even more so when it was accompanied by pointed inaction from his part all the same. “Ooh, these are like an extra weapon in the case you get in trouble,” she joked and looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Soooo: I get to see the tail too, right?”

“No.”

“Aw, no need to be so stingy. Come on, please?”

“Absolutely not.”

Hu Tao did not join him when he retired to rest around midnight. She had decided not to live permanently in the palace, although she had been prepared a room in there that she could use at any time. A decision that mostly had to do with her work. Zhongli had given her permission to come to the third inner level whenever she wished as well, but for now, he would live there alone.

Despite the very long day behind him, Zhongli was not tired even as he retired to his bedroom and took off the layers of ceremonial clothing. Still, mentally, he appreciated the quiet and a chance to be by himself as the adepti wished him goodnight and left. A bath and then cup of wine after perhaps the most important day of his life: it was relaxing.

Of course, “by himself” did not mean quite the same with him as it did with other people.

“I know I’ve promised you tea earlier, but would you object to wine, to celebrate the occasion?” Morax asked as Zhongli materialized to the space within. “I have a flavour I’ve been reserving to enjoy with you at a special time. I can scarcely think of something more special than this.”

“With pleasure,” Zhongli said, sitting down on his cushion on the other side of the table and Morax proceeded to manifest a bottle in his hand to pour them a drink. Zhongli watched the deity open the bottle. “You always keep asking me this, so I’d like to return the favour. How are you feeling?”

Morax huffed and the little smile on his lips twitched a bit wider as he picked up his little cup. “Liberated, I think would be the best word. Excited, perhaps another. And proud, although I know you have some aversion to that specific one.”

Zhongli lifted his own cup up for Morax to pour. “I think I could handle it, this time around.”

“Excellent,” Morax said and put the bottle down before offering his cup up towards Zhongli’s. “To the journey forward.”

The stone cups clicked together in the quiet, serene evening. After that, they did not speak: simply sat together at porch at the centre of their union. Any lingering threads of the veil that had hung about the place had no longer any need to be summoned. The view of the garden was clear, stretching out much further than before, increased in both detail and depth. Outside, Zhongli’s body was sitting cross-legged on his bed in meditation, both of them fully aware of its surroundings and ready to act should another threat surface. They had come a long way to get this far.

There were so many things they could have discussed, analysed or planned. The Ascension, the upcoming celebrations, work waiting ahead, the allies, enemies or anything in the entire world around them. And eventually, they would. But for now, both of them silently agreed to take a moment to simply enjoy the feeling they finally had time to appreciate in peace.

So, they simply sat there, in the safety and comfort of each other’s presence.

Chapter Text

ACT II

DOMINION

Foreword

The Legacy of Rex Lapis

Throughout the various generations of Rex Lapis, many exploits and adventures of the emperors have been adapted into stories, plays and songs. Although the emperors are historical figures anyone with a decent level of education would study the lives of, many of them have risen to fame in particular among the public through these tales and word-to-mouth, be it for their hard-earned achievements, heroic deeds or quirky antics. Some of these tales have taken flight on their own, spurning multiple reimaginings and adaptations, while some have earned a version loved by so many, it is considered to be a disgrace to try and tell the story differently. The imaginations of the people have taken their god and Contract, embracing them tirelessly through the changing times, while the facts of history walk alongside these stories to keep the truths about Rex Lapis in check.

The tales of Rex Lapis span many centuries and many main characters of the same name. Sometimes, the exact emperor is lost from the stories, leaving people to speculate as to who the story historically belongs to, if anyone. For as many a storyteller as there is, so too do these tales evolve. From the start of the journey: the first chosen Rex Lapis, who fought side by side with their archon in battle and earned the friendship and respect of the adepti; to the rumours of the many ancient games that the emperor and the high society played behind the walls of the palace during their get-togethers in the recent years. From a man responsible for over a half of the collection of the imperial library to this day, to the hero who saved an entire town from the wrath of an ancient god. Tales have weaved and spun themselves among the populace, getting more complex and vibrant with each retelling, like an ever-changing canvas.

The youngest to be chosen was merely 14 when the God of Contracts came to them. The oldest: 78 years of age. One was blessed by the strength and vitality of their god, ruling for 97 years; while another, in their eagerness to help the nation combat the plague that ravished the countryside, succumbed to the very illness she had tried to cure merely two years into her reign. One a risk-taker and inventor, another a cautious negotiator and traditionalist. Some extravagant to the public eye, who’d parade the streets accompanied by music and dance; others rarely seen by their people, spurning tales of various secrets and mysteries of their true self. One incarnation blessed the nation with a hallowed child, conceived and born while in a union with a god. Wherein another caused much commotion and confusion by embracing the new form granted to them by their divine union and both mothered and fathered a child. A canvas of truth, with accentuated details.

Despite all the emperors that individually mark the pages of history, Rex Lapis has always and will be one. No plural of the title exists, as it is the name of the one union that stands the test of time, despite the many individuals who have passed it on to the next generation. Rex Lapis is the embodiment of a divine entity, who despite their changing forms, always represents the same: the unchanging vow of stability for the people of Liyue and the followers of the Geo Archon. Part of the very bedrock on which the nation stands.

In their core, Rex Lapis is a promise. A promise, that no matter what form he may take, what policies or laws he might enact, with whatever voice he is to speak and even if distant or rarely seen, the God of Contracts will always watch over his people.

29

A New Morning

Zhongli studied his reflection closely, trying to map out his new body in detail. Calling on each of his new traits individually at first helped, allowing him time to think about and (in some cases) appreciate each. He had so far figured out, that he could control the length and strength of the nails, anywhere between only slightly stronger human nail to hardened, curling weapons that caused the skin of his hands to thicken in response, ready to tear into any obstacle, stone or flesh. In turn, the scales were like a flexible plate armour blocking anything but a direct front stab against his throat, shielding the sides and back of his neck and the bottom of his skull from many types of common harm. They were hard but intertwined and moved along each other’s edges smoothly, not impeding his movement. All in all, some extra natural protection for him to rely upon in a crisis. They were also warm to touch, sharing the warmth of any normal skin, something Zhongli had not expected.

The scales quickly faded and melted back into his skin as they reached down his back, although they did reach a little further down his spine. Near his shoulders and arms, the dragon’s armour was replaced by a darkened skin with glowing markings of geo. Zhongli turned his hands around, watching them from all angles, trying to get used to the sight. It was different seeing them on himself rather than Morax, even if the archon used his image as the current model for himself. The little pulses of energy ran through the veins in a steady, slow thrum. The darker colours and the glowing veins both gradually receded past his shoulders, but the combination of them reminded him of roots digging deeper as they had climbed up and conquered his limbs. His skin felt smooth and warm, all in all normal under it all.

Zhongli ran his fingers against the veins, tracing the pulse that travelled under his skin. Such a bizarre change to get used to in your own body, even next to the more dragonic traits. He glanced up from his arms to the mirror again, taking in the image of himself as he tried combining some traits he had received. It had been difficult to gauge the entire change under the ceremonial clothes, but like this with nothing blocking the view, he could ascertain better all that had changed. Even with all the wonderous changes, his eyes landed on the defined muscles on his abdomen in particular. Was this considered cheating? While he had always made sure he was healthy and in good physical condition, he had never in his life been this fit.

<Does it count as cheating in your eyes even with all the responsibilities that you have gained in return for all the perks?> Morax inquired. <Remember that all power comes at a price.>

“I suppose that is true,” Zhongli admitted, although the sight of his body being so muscly would take him some time to get used to. It had already given him pause when taking a bath the previous night. “It is all to aid me in keeping up with your duties.” He concentrated again on the powers coursing within him in waiting, summoning his amber-like horns to form atop his head. He ran his fingers through his slightly gradient hair, brushing his fingertips against the dragon amber. They had feeling, but not in the same way his skin did. It was more that he was aware of the touch and the nature of it, more than touch itself.

<Ah, I’ve missed my horns,> Morax confessed with a satisfied rumble. <You’re the first one of my vessels to adopt them and I did not even realise how much I’ve longed to have them again.>

“What is this feeling?” Zhongli asked, rubbing the horns between his fingers, wondering at how it felt. “It’s different from how I would sense a touch on my skin. Such a curious feeling…”

<The horns are a solidified form of the power within you, even more so than the other traits. They do not have nerves to feel with, but instead sense intention behind the touch itself,> Morax explained, lending Zhongli some memories of his about the different types of touches on his horns in the past to better grasp the context. <If someone were to touch them with ill intentions, it would be uncomfortable for you, while tender or more caring emotions would feel more pleasurable. Although it requires a touch or at least close proximity, thus rendering this feature somewhat less applicable in most scenarios. But no matter how much someone attempts to mask their feelings, the horns will not lie. You are currently curious of their nature. Thus, that is the feeling the horns convey to you. A will to explore and learn.>

“What a bizarre feature,” Zhongli mumbled. “Like antennae for emotions.”

<While I slightly object to calling them antennae, I suppose that it not an inaccurate description.>

Zhongli looked at the mirror, calling out all of the relevant changes to look at them as a whole. His body hardly looked like his own with their combination, but bizarrely on the inside, he did feel more like himself than ever before.

<The way your body has accepted our union now is quite comforting, no?>

Zhongli nodded, unable to disagree. “Yes. I understand much better now what you meant all those times I was inflicted by strain, saying that it would get better.” He looked through his new features one last time before dismissing them all, except the slight gradient of his thicker hair, which he seemed to be stuck with. “I suppose I can use the horns and arms on public occasions if it is needed. The nails and scales feel a bit much.”

<Aren’t you forgetting something?>

“We need not talk about the tail anymore, Morax.”

Morax huffed. <You’re in denial. It is an asset to you as much as everything else, if you make the effort to make it your own. It is a massive chunk of your adaptability as a whole, so in the case more power is needed, it is better you know how to deal with it as well before that happens.>

Zhongli sighed. “Fine…” he relented and hooked his thumbs under the trim of his trousers to lower them enough to call out the tail. It did feel like a natural part of him, purely biologically speaking, now that his brain had figured out it had new muscles to control.

<The previous vessel to acquire my tail often curled it up and used it as slightly raised seat while eating outside. He enjoyed eating his meals with his wife in the garden and the tail offered them both a shared cushion.>

“If you think I’m about to replicate that, think again,” Zhongli shot the subtle suggestion down, turning around and looking over his shoulder to see the tail from behind. He raised it up from the floor to see and feel how it moved. “Although meals outside in the garden do sound rather nice.” He looked at the flowing curls of fur and how they moved as he flicked the tail around, testing it. “We would have to redo my entire wardrobe if I were to use this.”

<I am sure Menogias would not object to such a challenge.>

Zhongli smiled. “I suppose not. But no.” The tail was dismissed and he pulled his trouser back above his buttocks. “We’re not doing that. But I will concede to few pieces of clothing to accommodate the tail, so I can change into those if the times call for drastic measures.”

<I’ll take what I can,> Morax shrugged with a hum.

A knock on the door interrupted their talk and Zhongli quickly grabbed his shirt from the chair nearby. “Come in.”

Ganyu opened the door on his permission, stepping inside, just in time to see her emperor button up his shirt. She couldn’t help but let her eyes scan his features, but he looked mostly as he had before the Ascension, his divine features hidden. But stronger than before, she felt at peace in his presence.

“Good morning, Rex Lapis,” Ganyu wished him, inclining her head to a little bow, before looking up, smiling. “How was your first night officially as the emperor? Is everything in order?”

“Good morning, Ms. Ganyu. Yes, everything is fine,” Zhongli replied, returning her smile and coming closer while correcting his sleeves. “I trust you have rested as well? We have yet another busy day ahead of us, do we not. What do you have for me?”

“Well, I was about to inquire whether you needed help getting dressed,” Ganyu started, glancing at his fairly normal clothes. A reflex on his part, no doubt. “The celebrations for your coronation continue today still, although some work has to be sprinkled in-between, thanks to the, uh… turmoil recently. But you have some time to take things slowly for the morning before everything starts. Um… Would you like to go with your regular clothes only today? I will in no way force you of course, but Rex Lapis is usually expected to show an example of class to all during celebrations.”

“Ah, I suppose that is true,” Zhongli said, sighing down at his everyday clothes. A fashion icon was not in the list of things he wanted to be, but he supposed in his new status his clothing would be under heavier scrutiny. “That being said, I do not think the ceremonial robes are entirely practical for busier day,” he mused, frowning while trying to think of what type of image for himself he wanted to make. He did want to go down to see the celebrations in the city today if he had the time, but there was also some official work to do, as Ganyu had said. While he had always tried to be proper and well-dressed, he was not used to thinking about his image with so much pressure of other people judging.

“We can arrange some outfit changes during the day if you’d like,” Ganyu offered, already making plans on how to arrange that, but Zhongli shook his head.

“Perhaps somewhere in the middle ground would do, so we do not need to waste our time on that. An outfit similar to what I wore during the meeting with the kidnapping victims should do, no? Although I acknowledge the special instance, I do not wish to overdress.”

Ganyu raised her eyebrows. “I do not think people would blame you for overdressing for the celebrations of your own coronation, your majesty.”

Zhongli laughed once. “An astute point. But I do not wish to look too gaudy even so. Hmm,” he paused to think for a second and then caused Ganyu to startle minutely when the morning sun through the window hit against his horns. “Would these make it more regal looking?”

“Oh… I mean, yes, you’re absolutely right.”

Zhongli tilted his head to her. “Do the horns bother you?”

Ganyu shook her head quickly. “It is not that, I am just not used to seeing them again. It has been such a long time. No emperor before you has manifested this particular trait.”

“So I have been told,” Zhongli said, bringing his hand up to touch the horns again. “Is it too much?” Worrying about his public image was going to take some time to get used to. At least the response so far had been overwhelmingly positive since his Ascension, though that had less to do with him personally, compared to the general stability Rex Lapis’ return hopefully meant for the people.

“Of course not,” Ganyu assured. “It will surely elevate any outfit you wear. While you have breakfast, I will arrange some options similar to the outfit you wore while performing your official duties weeks prior. Unless you have something else on your mind, of course. Do you have any special requests? Where would your majesty like to eat?”

Zhongli felt a sense of longing, although it was hard to pinpoint for what exactly. Just a simpler time? Being helped and served, from choosing his clothes to the meals he ate and things he needed or wanted to do. That reality was here now in full force. It would be necessary, if he wanted to effectively do his duties, at least some of it. And it was not like he objected to rewarding himself on occasion. Still, he’d have to establish some boundaries for himself and the adepti that they could all be comfortable with. Zhongli wondered if he should choose to appoint human servants soon, as to not keep bothering the illuminated guardians with his daily needs. Although he truly did not know who to choose. Nobles and the wealthy were used to delegating and hiring people for their tasks and needs but Zhongli was used to doing things by himself. Or even being the one assuring that others could do their jobs effectively, like helping out assorting some documents, offering advice for his co-workers or ensuring the Parlour’s kitchen was adequately stocked. The idea of ordering someone else to clean up and cook for him felt… foreign. Despite of how much the adepti said they did not mind. And the adepti weren’t even getting paid. Not that they much cared about Mora.

Tempted by the earlier thought of eating outside, Zhongli decided to have his breakfast in the outer garden. Although unlike the previous vessel who had acquired Morax tail from the bargain bin, he did not have a family to dine with, with Hu Tao being away. Still, it was a pleasant and refreshing morning, if a bit on the windy side. But the strongest winds did not reach his position thanks to some charms in place around the palace. The first thing scheduled for him for the day was a meeting with the Qixing about the fate of the city council and some other pressing matters. That was scheduled to be held at ten in the morning, so he still had some time to enjoy the pleasant atmosphere. He should make a habit of asking Ganyu to give him some reports and documents to read while having breakfast so he could divide some workload from the rest of the day.

“Is there anything else you’d like to have today, Rex Lapis?” the adeptus who usually prepared his meals asked as the table had been set and tea poured.

“This is more than enough once again,” Zhongli assured light-heartedly, looking over the delicacies on display, waiting for him to eat them. His eyes landed on a plate of a specific savoury pastry and in curiosity, he picked one of the palm sized pies up from its plate. “I see you have found a way to congeal the shortcrust of your tofu pastries. The last time I remember tasting these, some pieces would crumble off in the fingers at the lightest pressure, as tasty as your new recipe was. What did you change?” Noticing the shocked expression on the chef’s face when he looked up, Zhongli immediately realised what he had inadvertently done again. “Ah, my apologies. I’m bringing up Morax’s past experiences as my own again. It must be confusing.”

“No. No.” The adeptus shook his head. “I was merely taken aback that you would remember. I added some extra corn flour into the mixture and started using colder water while mixing it. It really wasn’t that difficult.” He paused to frown at the said pastry, before looking up again, a little bothered. “That all happened a very long time ago. Have I… truly never made you the finished product after that initial taste test?”

“They were busy and trying times: it is no wonder such things would escape one’s mind,” Zhongli noted. “It is good to get to try them now, as you have no doubt perfected the recipe across the years. I am happy you decided to keep trying, despite the slightly rocky start with your new passion.”

The adeptus watched him take a bite and hum in agreement to the dishes taste, many thoughts behind his violet eyes. “You told me it was alright, if a little bothersome to eat. I have kept those words in my heart while perfecting my craft.”

Zhongli sighed at Morax's apparently crude feedback. At least it seems to have worked out alright. “The results of that are clear then. This is most excellent and the texture has improved immensely. The aftertaste of the tofu also lingers nicely on the tongue. This should go well with the tea.”

“You flatter me, your majesty,” the adeptus said, bowing his head down.

“No need to be so humble. I am glad to be finally able to give you another review of your work.”

The adeptus paused, before raising his head. “My apologies, your majesty. I shall admit, it feels odd to hear it from you now, after all this time. This is one of the first recipes I created myself and has since grown almost stagnant for me to make, although some of the adepti still enjoy it. Even so, I… find myself glad to see and hear you enjoy such a routine recipe.”

Zhongli hummed, setting the rest of the pastry down on his plate. “It truly has been that long, hasn’t it?” It was right after the Archon War that this adeptus laid down his weapon and asked Morax to be freed from active combat duty. Having memories that were not his own pop on request in his mind was making his brain buzz in the background with confusion. It didn’t bother him if he didn’t think about it too hard, just letting it happen and they simply came to him, but suddenly realising he could tell what the person before him had looked like and said thousands of years ago, was an addition the human side of his brain did not know how to handle.

“I am to blame for that extended time, my lord. It was myself who decided to not bring you experimental foods again until I was certain of them,” the adeptus explained. “I had yet to earn my place among the master chefs of the adepti and humans, and resolved myself to do so before returning to you with my works. It is pure happenstance this dish never made your menu since, even during the times I’ve had the opportunity to make something for you.” He bowed down. “But I should not keep you from your meal. Call me if you need anything. I shall be close by.”

Zhongli’s gaze thoughtfully wondered across the variety of delicacies presented before him on the table. The morning sunlight of Liyue bounced of the textures and shapes, creating a vibrant play of shadows and colour. “Zheng Qi,” he called out, stopping the adeptus from leaving and earning back his attention. Zhongli looked up. “As of late, I’ve been thinking of housing arrangements.”

“…Yes?” Zheng Qi asked him to continue, cautiously, acknowledging that he was listening.

Zhongli watched the chef stand stiffly in front of his gaze, wondering what he was expecting to hear. “In particular, who to have help me with my daily needs and various things to keep the palace running. I would like to inquire if you and the other adeptus chefs would be willing to keep working in the palace for me.”

Judging by his expression, that was not what Zheng Qi had expected to hear. “My lord would like us to stay?” he asked, making Zhongli slightly worried of how genuinely surprised he sounded.

“Yes, if you find that arrangement to be agreeable;” Zhongli clarified. “I do not know who to appoint as my staff and there are a multitude of affairs I’d rather use my time and energy on, than building a court of strangers from the scratch. But I understand the adepti too have their personal callings, so I will not keep you from them, should a job such as this get in your way.” When the adeptus did not reply immediately he added. “Please be assured, this is not an order: merely an inquiry. Would you like some time to think on it?”

Zheng Qi took a deep breath, and shook his head, bowing down yet again. “It would be my pleasure and honour to cook for you again, my lord. I will relay your inquiry to the others as well.”

Zhongli smiled, feeling a little relieved. “Excellent. Then it is settled. I shall be counting on you.”

“Thank you, Rex Lapis.”

“Oh and, please: should you come up with new recipes again, I would love to taste test them from now on. Please do not hesitate to be experimental with your creeds for my sake. Uh, just as long as not too much fish is involved. Morax’s aversion to seafood brings down the enjoyment of it.”

“…” Zheng Qi opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. He thanked him again, before repeating his promise to be close if Zhongli needed anything and leaving.

Once he was alone, Zhongli sighed. That was one less thing he’d need to arrange to get things running. He’d have to figure out a working routine to work effectively from now on. At least food should now not be among his issues to worry about. But cooking aside, asking the adepti to keep swiping the floors and dusting the shelves felt a little off to him.

<Thank you. From me as well.>

Zhongli paused his thinking when Morax suddenly spoke up. “Hm? For what?”

Morax grunted in thought. <I suppose you would not remember clearly, having been through so much at the time…>

“What do you mean?”

Morax thought for a moment, wondering if he wanted to remind Zhongli of this or not. <Don’t worry about it. It is a conversation we had while you were recovering from the poisoning. Just know that I… I am glad. That I chose you, I mean.>

Zhongli frowned. He had a vague memory that they had talked about this topic.

<You should eat, before you are in a hurry again. The tea is getting cold.>

Not all of his mornings would be this leisurely, Zhongli was sure as he complied and started eating. Most people had joined the merriment and partying well into the night, including the people who ran the country. While some had an unfortunate morning shift or no break or chance at all to party like the others, as per tradition, the day of the coronation and the day after it were national holidays. The Qixing as well had stayed at the party in the palace until midnight, so the early morning hours were free for even them to take things slower and relax. Zhongli himself had never had a problem being a morning person or getting up at sunrise, if need be, but he did not object to slower pace every now and then. It felt like a luxury to sit here like this, watching over the morning of Liyue from high above the roofs.

Just then, a slightly more playful gust of wind brushed against his hair, waving it around, up and down. Zhongli paused, a teacup on the way to his lips for a sip, prompting the little gust to play inside his cup, swirling the liquid inside into a little whirlpool.

Morax huffed, amiably but with a snarky edge. <And look who it is. As per usual, he does not miss an opportunity to party to have some drinks. And so our quiet morning is gone with the wind.>

Zhongli cleared his throat and set his teacup down. Even though they had met before, his back straightened a little as he spoke. “You are welcome to join me.”

“Ehe,” the Anemo Archon chuckled as he materialized from the wind. “Much obliged.”

Another, much sharper gust of wind brought a yaksha to Zhongli’s side as soon as Barbatos appeared, but Xiao expression relaxed when he realised who it was he had sensed coming in through the barrier. “Oh,” he grunted quietly and his spear disappeared as he straightened and bowed down. “My apologies.”

Zhongli nodded to him, secretly slightly taken aback but reassured by the yaksha’s fast reaction. “No harm done. Thank you for your vigilance.”

“Geez,” Venti said, light-heartedly, sitting down on the railing of the canopy. “The security around here sure is tight these days. All of these barriers and other security shenanigans would be pretty nasty to get through without permission, even for me. I guess it makes sense. You’ve been through quite an adventure, or so the winds have whispered.”

“You could say that.” Zhongli would personally have not used the word adventure to describe most of it, but he supposed it wasn’t inaccurate either. “Although, while I understand the weight of the circumstances, I admit especially the number of barriers around the palace could be rediscussed.”

Xiao straightened his back finally. “We shall be close by, should you need us.”

And then he was gone again. Zhongli sighed a little as a wind cycling carried the yaksha away. It seemed the Ascension had not particularly affected his relationship with the yaksha for the better, but also not for the worse. Then again, remembering back to his own experience, perhaps two archons around the same table wasn’t the easiest company to insert oneself in. Xiao’s distant behaviour in particular among the five yaksha had been bothering him. The others at least showed emotion on their faces and talked to him from time to time, although mostly on work related matters. Xiao on the other hand, he felt had retreated like a turtle into his shell. It was hard to tell, with him not being the most social person to begin with, but there was something more to it, Zhongli could tell. Something that was different from the other yaksha.

Oblivious to Zhongli’s branching thoughts, Venti was making himself at home and grabbed an apple flavoured pastry from the table, before sitting back down on the railing and getting comfortable. “So. All things stable and good? Ready to take the world by the storm?”

“Erm…” Zhongli collected himself. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. A lot has happened that needs to be fixed and addressed.”

“Isn’t it a bit too soon to be in full work mode?” Venti asked, his mouth half full.

Zhongli frowned. “What do you mean by too soon? A lot is at risk and Liyue’s safety is my responsibility now. Surely you did not make your way here purely to have breakfast, either. May I inquire what brings you to see me?”

Venti spread his hands and shook his head dramatically. “Am I not allowed to come over to say congratulations after my dear friend’s dear caretaker finally ascends? You must think me truly heartless. Hark, my feelings, battered against the cold rocks, no matter the wind’s insistence.”

“I meant no offense, Barbatos,” Zhongli offered quickly. “But surely an archon such as yourself has better things to do than to fly all the way over here for merely a chat? If we are to meet, some sharing of information would be beneficial.”

Venti sighed loudly. “That is what I mean by too soon. Your people are celebrating for you down there: don’t be a complete killjoy. Relax while you have a chance. Work can wait for a day for you to be happy about making it through everything for a moment. I for one, plan to make full use of the offered festivities your people have come up with.”

“I intend to partake,” Zhongli defended himself a little. “But there are things that require my attention today even so. I have had my fair share of down time, waiting for the Rite of Ascension to be held. Now that I am able, I much wish to finally be of use to the country again.”

“Ah dear, you’re a tough one to crack,” Venti said, exasperated and reached forward to grab apple slices between his fingers from the fruit tray. “Downtime and relaxing can be very different. Tell me: did you have fun while on your forced vacation?” The scrunching up of Zhongli’s expression brought a victorious smirk on Venti’s face before Zhongli could think up a reply. “See? You should take a moment to properly appreciate how far you’ve come, with all these people who you’ll be working for from now on.” He gestured towards the city as a whole spreading under them. “Nobody’s gonna frown at the emperor living a little at his own party.”

How do you handle him? Zhongli asked for help, unsure how to communicate effectively with the foreign archon.

<In the past, with some well-aimed boulders. More recently, you could say I got used to it and started responding back with his own tactics.>

“But so,” Venti continued, munching on his apples. “What’s the plan?”

“Do you mean for the celebrations?” Zhongli asked and picked up his teacup again. “They will last for three days in total, today being the main day for all the merriment and while tomorrow people return to work for the day, but the evening is reserved for the finale of the celebrations. If you have come to enjoy the festival spirit, today is your best chance.”

“Oho, I have indeed come to enjoy the festival spirit,” Venti replied cheerfully, with a little smirk in his eyes. “Surely the people of Liyue would not mind hearing exclusive new songs about their god on his special day, from Mondstadt’s best bard no less. I may have not come with the Mora to test your best wines, but earning enough during the day to enjoy the evening should pose no problem.”

<I knew it…> Morax muttered.

“Oh but, not to worry: I have only good intentions when it comes to your reputation. Buuuut a little gossip can’t hurt, yeah? Ehe, just a heads up,” Venti added. He made a gesture with his hand and Zhongli glanced at the wind that picked up around the canopy. It circled around them, hiding them behind a veil invisible to the naked eye. Outside, the two yaksha on guard duty raised their heads as they realised the banter of the two gods no longer reached them. They tensed, alerted, but stayed put. It was none of their business to pry.

“So,” Venti started again, their voices now blocked from reaching any ears outside. He put the last slice of apple in his mouth. “What’s the plan?”

“How are things in Mondstadt?” Zhongli asked back instead. It had been some time since they had gotten any news from the other nations.

“Settling down. My people know how to put their heads together and get things done when need be. It was bad timing for a majority of the Knights to be out on an expedition, but the ones left behind to watch over the city have done an excellent job, all things considered. Really: if you didn’t know that something massive had happened recently, you might not even notice it now!”

“Has Dvalin recovered?”

“He sleeps a lot, but is doing alright,” Venti said, while browsing the table for the next thing to eat. “And you? How are things on your end?”

Zhongli sighed, following Venti’s example and continued his breakfast while they talked. “As I’ve mentioned, a lot is at risk if we do not remain cautious, but it seems the immediate danger has passed. We dealt a heavy blow to our enemy’s forces, but their exact identity and goals are still a mystery to us. The adepti have been investigating what we’ve found so far. The country has seen much turmoil and the people desire a moment of peace. I will endeavour to give it to them, so it might take a moment for me personally to get involved with the investigations on a larger scale.”

“I’ve been scouting around Mondstadt to see if I can find any of those gates your adepti warned me about.” Satisfied with his haul, Venti crossed his legs and balanced the plate he had stolen from the table on his palm. “I’ve found a few and those are nasty things, let me tell you. I think I should not poke around them too obviously or I might get caught up in another storm. Dvalin and Andrius have both agreed to help me with them, once we figure out the best way. But for the most part, our uninvited guests from the Abyss seemed to have vanished into thin air for now. Which is funny, because usually finding things that think they can hide from the wind is my speciality. Still, I should warn you that our opponents are quite crafty. There aren’t many who can hide from the curiosity of a spring breeze.”

“The adepti have experience dealing with and finding the gates. I can send some to Mondstadt to aid you with the scouting.”

“Oh, no need. I can manage. You deal with your own problems here and leave Mondstadt to little old me. But I’ll keep the offer in mind.”

“Have you received any news from the other countries?” Zhongli asked. As far as he knew, the fires in Sumeru had been quelled, but the country was restless with the loss of their archon. The Fire Archon had told them that she would contact them if she learnt anything, but so far: nothing. Inazuma was still secluded, with no news from the Crux fleet. Zhongli wondered if his message had reached the Tsaritsa in Snezhnaya with Childe, having not received any word as to what was happening there. And even through all these weeks, they had not heard anything from Fontaine.

“Nothing much, mostly rumours,” Venti replied with a little sigh. “But other than Rukkhadevata, everyone should still be alive. I’ll trust them to keep their own countries in order.”

<Rukkhadevata is not dead,> Morax corrected him, causing Zhongli to stop in surprise and raise his eyebrows. Morax frowned a little at his confusion about this topic, but figured out quickly enough why Zhongli would not remember his own saviour and continued. <Or… Well. Not entirely. She is like me now, without a body of her own. Her consciousness has merged with the Irmunsul. From the point of view of her people, however, she is as good as dead the way she is now.>

“What’s up?” Venti asked and his expression brightened a little when Zhongli shared the news. “Really?” he asked, smiling as he learnt of the facts. “That is a relief, to some extent at least. I figured it was odd a little fire could kill her.”

“I would not call it little,” Zhongli corrected him, his facial muscles tensing as he remembered back to the reports of the destruction he had seen about the situation in Sumeru. “But it is good to know the Dendro Archon yet lives, in some way or another. We should attempt to check in with her, since she might be unable to on her own and check if she requires assistance.”

“You really don’t know how to deal with your own problems first before helping others, huh?” Venti noted, studying Zhongli’s face closely.

Zhongli looked over the roofs of the city towards the sea. “I believe this to be an international issue, that we should be open about with each other from the start. I understand each nation has its own way of doing things, but since we share a common enemy as far as we can tell, the more information and different ways to tackle things we have, the best we can defend our own countries. As I said before, Liyue’s safety is my responsibility now. I will do what I deem necessary for it.”

Venti hummed, interested, leaning on his knee with a palm under his chin in thought. “You really are the most curious vessel I’ve ever seen.” Zhongli frowned at him, wondering at what he meant. But Venti continued before he could ask. “If you’re interested to know, I did spot a Snezhnayan ship heading this way while scouting around before coming here. It was a fancier one compared to a normal passenger or merchant ship, so whoever’s on board, you might want to catch them for a chat if you want information from the far north. The weather was a little rough for them but they should be here perhaps tomorrow. Dunno if this is their final stop or not, but I’d imagine it is a stop.”

Zhongli pondered the information. Could it be Childe coming back? Or perhaps even another harbinger? I was about to contact the Northland Bank later to form an intelligence chain between us and Snezhnaya and to possibly send a message to the Tsaritsa, but perhaps it would be for the best to see what or who this ship brings with it.

“Anyway,” Venti said, letting a wind drop his empty plate to the table with a clack and snapped his fingers, bringing down the wind barrier around them. “I’m off to enjoy some festivities, as should you. Tell that to your secretary over there as well.” He nodded towards Ganyu who had appeared at the end of the walkway leading inside.

Zhongli looked up from his thoughts, noticing her standing there. “Oh. You may come closer. My apologies for not noticing you waiting.”

Ganyu quickly made her way over. “I haven’t been here for long and in any case, your majesty has every right to entertain his guests in peace.” She bowed down to Venti. “Lord Barbatos. We welcome you in Liyue.” She straightened with a frown on her forehead. “But please send a message before your arrival from now on so we may prepare and be ready for it.”

Venti laughed and floated up to fly in the air. “I could not bother you with it, not without you turning a quick hello to a formal audience ceremony. This suits me better. Oh, and you should see to it that the most esteemed and mighty Rex Lapis has some fun today. I’ll be off to show him an example now. See ya!”

“Um…” Ganyu uttered, flustered at the sudden departure of the Anemo Archon.

Zhongli massaged his temple a little and ran his hand through his hair. “Pay him no mind. The schedule is just fine.”

“Alright,” Ganyu perked up towards him and nodded. “Speaking of the schedule, we should start getting ready for your day, so we do not have to hurry. Have you eaten yet?”

Zhongli raised his cup to drink down the rest of his tea. In truth he hadn’t eaten much, thanks to Barbatos showing up, but it was enough to last him until the next meal. “Yes. Let us proceed, shall we.” He stood up. “Oh and Ganyu. There is a Snezhnayan ship heading towards the harbour that should arrive by tomorrow. I wish to know who is onboard.” He wondered that if it was Childe, how was he going to explain greeting his friend as an emperor.

As much as the international situation concerned him, he found it briefly pushed aside while Menogias helped him get dressed again. It was something that kept coming to his mind that morning it seemed. His relationship with the adepti and the yaksha especially that had gotten a bit better prior to his poisoning, was very formal again. There were only a couple exceptions, like Madame Ping and Ganyu. Yesterday, during the celebrations, he had marked it off as a behaviour for a formal occasion, but now… No, perhaps he was overthinking things: he was unused to the way he was treated as an emperor and seeing flaws where there were none. Most of the adepti would soon leave the palace for their duties so Zhongli didn’t have the needed time to gauge effectively what they thought of the situation or him personally. Still… he couldn’t help but wonder what the adepti thought of his newfound power and unity with Morax. Had that changed how they viewed him? Was something bothering them? How did they see him now?

Of the yaksha, Menogias and Indarias were the only ones who seemed to be testing the waters around Zhongli to see if they still carried his favour, compared to the other three of the siblings. As they figured out his outfit together for the day, Menogias started naturally talking about his craft and ideas. Zhongli listened, while closely studying whenever the yaksha’s expression showed any hesitation and commented here and there to encourage him to keep going. It wasn’t long until they had dressed him up for the day in an appropriate manner, but it offered Zhongli some time to think about his relationship with the yaksha. They needed to talk, the sooner the better. Where Menogias was clearly taking the opportunity of choosing his outfits with great pride and Indarias had showed up while Zhongli had been on his way to have breakfast just to wish him a good morning before promptly leaving, the others were showing no signs of being casual with him again. Bonanus was silent, Bosacius strictly formal and Xiao distant and aloof. Before the banquet he planned to hold with the adepti later, he should sit down with the five yaksha for a proper talk, or he feared possibly none of them would show up to the feast.

But yet again, he found himself uncertain how to bring the subject up. Should he just call the five over to him and just bring up the topic upfront? That option had Morax’s vote: the god was suggesting him to be decisive and concise with the yaksha to get through to them. He should trust the god’s insight on it, since Morax knew the adepti much better than him. But at the same time, he feared being too blunt or direct could make matters worse. While he might not have felt strongly about the issues between them, other than some handlings of the proceedings while he had been sick, the situation was much more personal and of greater importance to the yaksha themselves. He did not wish to trample on their feelings about delicate matters, especially since they could just as well view whatever he said as an order and respect it, rather than Zhongli’s wish itself.

By the time he greeted the Qixing for their meeting, he had again come to no solid conclusion and pushed the issue aside for later, yet again. As much as it kept popping up on his head, it’d have to wait for now.

“Rex Lapis,” Ningguang greeted him with a warm smile. The rest of the Qixing rose up from their seats after the Tianquan to greet him as well as he came in. “We are honoured you have joined us.”

“It would not be much of a meeting between with the Qixing and the emperor if I did not join, no,” Zhongli said, instructing them to take their seats. “I suppose I could have sent a substitute in my stead, but it is my intention to do my part to the best of my ability from now on. And, please: no need to be so formal.” He sat down on his own seat and tried to act natural while meeting the gazes of the others around the table. “Good morning. I hope you all managed to get some sleep?”

Uncle Tian chuckled. “Good morning, your majesty. No need to worry about my rest. I know well enough how to get exactly the amount I require.”

“Rex Lapis, about today's agenda, may I suggest some amendments before we begin?” Keqing jumped straight into business and took out some papers to set on the table, looking like she had been waiting to get back to work. “There are some things I believe can be more effectively discussed in a different order. There are also some additional topics that have come up.”

Morax rumbled with a low, pleased tone at the Yuheng’s enthusiasm and commitment. Zhongli reacted to the feeling of appreciation from the god with a little smile that passed his lips as he geared his brain up to a full work mode. “Of course. What do you have in mind?”

He might not have had the experience in governance that these people did, nor did he in fact know them very well personally or as a group thanks to his predecessor mostly keeping to himself and distancing himself from politics, but he was determined that with Morax’s help, he could offer more than his presence here. He was also expected to lead the conversation now that he was here, but he hoped that would not be too different from conducting a meeting with important clients.

Yes. Yes, he would not let himself be a burden, a hinderance or a wallflower among these people. This was his first day officially on the job, so to speak, and he was not about to let himself make a mess of things and ruin Morax’s image. Outside their meeting room window, the city had woken up and was celebrating his return and rise to the throne. Their expectations and adoration were a burden Zhongli could not have carried alone, but that is why he had Morax on his side. They would work so that the celebrations and the everyday life after that could continue without problems.

It was as if something clicked in his head as he now sat here, with the top of Liyue’s government in his company and the multitude of the issues and problems listed out, black on white, in front of him on the table. All of these things that had been swimming around his head and happening around them for so long. In such a concise form.

Suddenly, it was real.

The first day.

His first day as the sovereign of Liyue. It was here. The two years of their secret promise had started. And he had to make it work. He would make it work. Failure was not an option.

Far away from the palace’s government meeting rooms and unaware of any inner turmoil the nation’s new ruler might be experiencing, outside the border of Liyue Harbor, two travellers saw the first glimpse of the sea glimmer past the mountain passage and sprinted towards it.

“Whoah…” the male traveller said, leaning on his knees after they had run all the way near the edge of the cliffs where the road down to the city curved away from the drop towards the water below. “This’s Liyue Harbor then?” The city spread below them along the coast of the bay, rising layer after layer up the mountain side, with a sparkling dome and a stunning palace rising the highest above the rest. “Whoah.”

“It’s so pretty,” his female companion breathed out, excitement in her voice. “We made it! Ah thank goodness…” She put her hands on her hips and sighed in relief towards the sky. “Finally. Too many slimes. Way too many slimes for one morning. I could use a nice meal and bath.”

“Well come on then,” her companion chuckled and took her hand. “I don’t want to deal with you hungry and tired. Let’s get down there and find a place to stay and something to eat. I wonder what kind of regional specialties they have here.”

She grinned and grabbed his hand in turn and the next thing he knew, it was him who was being dragged down the road at full speed and almost stumbling over because of it. “Wait— Lumine!”

“Hahah! Come on Aether, keep up! There must be so many interesting people here to meet and places to explore. After all the trouble so far, I can’t wait to kick back a little and relax.”

Chapter Text

“Are we all in agreement then?” Zhongli confirmed one last time, continuing when everyone agreed. “Very well. It is decided then, that the Liyue Harbor city council shall be completely revised and re-elected. All the current members may be included in the list of candidates; however, they are not excluded from the revision process and will go through the same screening and procedures as the other candidates. Should they wish to not continue their career as councillors, the candidacy will not be demanded.” He looked at the two members of the Qixing who had been selected to be in charge of the selection and exchanged a little nod with them. “Once the list of initial candidates has been finished and approved by all in this room, you may start the process.”

“Yes, Rex Lapis. Leave it to us.”

“If I may ask, is there anyone in particular you do not wish to be a part of the new council?”

“…” Zhongli looked at the list of current members in front of him on the table, remembering back to his encounter with them. Their words still rang in his ears when he momentarily slipped deeper into that particular memory. “…No,” he replied after a moment of contemplation, ignoring how Morax raised his eyebrows at him. “There are none.” He had told them that he would win them over if he must, if they did not wish to give him their support as is. He had also promised to not kick anyone out of the council because of their initial disagreements and he intended to hold onto that promise. If they were unwilling to try and chose to leave, well, then he would not stop them.

“Then, is there anyone you’d personally like to recommend, your majesty?”

Now that was a trickier question. Most of Zhongli’s acquaintances were not the type of people usually associated with governing jobs. There were also a few he could name who would have likely made good councillors, but either had no interest in such affairs or were busy with their actual jobs. However, there were a couple of people that came mind. “Weng Liu Su,” he named after a moment of thinking and looked up at the others around the table. “He has shown great promise, despite his young age, and would benefit much from an environment to develop his skills. I would also like to extend an invitation to the master of the Feiyun Commerce Guild again, although I am aware he has declined in the past. Ah, and to elaborate: these people are to be subject to the same process as everyone, despite them being my recommendations.”

While the two responsible for the re-election of the council made notes, Keqing cleared her throat. “If all has been decided on this topic, may I advance to the next? On the subject of handling some other aftermath issues, there is the question concerning the fate of the Teng family wealth that is to be added to the imperial treasury. The final calculations and appraisal are yet to be completed, but the final number is likely to be between thirty-one and thirty-three million Mora, if we sell all the furniture and art. Does your majesty have some preferences or suggestions on how to use it?”

“I had not thought about it yet, no,” Zhongli admitted. “Do you have something on your mind?”

“Yes,” Keqing replied, eagerly jumping to the chance to say her opinions. “I suggest to split the final amount between the imperial innovation funding and the organization of public events. I do not know if your majesty has heard this, but many citizens have been furious or even felt personally insulted of Li Teng’s and some other council members distrust of your background as a commoner. It was the most commented upon thing while we gathered the public’s opinions for our part of Li Teng’s punishment. I think it is only fitting then, that the accrued wealth is distributed to back to the public through different channels. The two that I have suggested would cover different types of benefits that a significant amount of people could share and enjoy.”

Zhongli nodded. “That is a sound suggestion. During the month of my absence, the economy and people’s happiness both declined worryingly, whilst stress accumulated. By encouraging the people to once again take their chances in business, investments and arts, as well as bolstering the overall positive atmosphere and unity by putting some extra effort on upcoming events, we can effectively start addressing both of these issues. Furthermore, by using this extra funding conservatively, alongside the usual budget, we buy ourselves extra time to work on stabilizing the economy on a much larger scale as well. Indeed, I have no objections. Are there any other suggestions?” He looked around the table.

“I agree on the usage of the funds, but if I may,” Ningguang commented, sounding pleased and there was a warm yet devious glint in her eyes. “I am fairly certain I could increase the amount of Mora we can make of off Li Teng’s property by at least another ten million, conservatively. Could I ask you to leave it in my hands?”

Someone seems eager, Zhongli noted, reminded of the Tianquan’s reputation to have the skills to make almost anything profitable. “I can scarcely think of someone else’s hands to entrust such thing to for maximum efficacy.”

Ningguang hummed, amused. “Much obliged, but there is no need for flattery, Rex Lapis. I know exactly what to do and how to go about it, without the need for honeyed words. Although, they do ring nicely coming from you.”

They discussed the topic a moment longer, going over some other options that were raised and detailing the final decision to record it down. In the end, it was decided that in addition to the imperial innovation funds and the public events, a portion of the wealth would be directed to military funding. Now that the times could no longer be called peaceful, the millelith needed to bolster their training and equipment. The amount of extra Mora was diminished when stretched thinner between the three, but it was not like the existing funding for each was non-existent. The wealth collected from the disbanded noble family would be used as additional funds to boost the processes of each, rather than lift one clearly over the others. Taking care of public safety was also part of the people’s wellbeing after all, besides their financial and mental health concerns.

After that, it was time for the extra topic Keqing had wished to bring up. Zhongli watched silently as the Yuheng took out a small, undecorated wooden box and set it on the table in front of them, opening the lid for all to see what was inside. He looked down at the unassuming glass bottle with no label that sat on a cushion inside and the small amount of clear liquid thicker than water, in one smooth bubble inside it. This was his first time seeing the poison that had nearly taken his life. He was unsure how to feel. As he silently listened to Keqing share the basic info about the substance to everyone, he was certain that Morax was responsible that he wasn’t having any sort of flashbacks. He felt like he should have been, but even as that thought came to his mind, no memory clearly surfaced itself. While he could not keep running from the trauma, he was thankful that Morax was allowing him to pick another time to face it rather than here in front of the Qixing.

Spotting Ningguang from the corner of his eyes giving him a long, calculating look, Zhongli met her gaze and offered her a brief smile to assure her that he was fine, in the case she worried.

“The liquid in this jar is a mixed solution that even despite the diluting process retains most of the venom’s potency,” Keqing went on with her explanations, turning to look at Zhongli now. “According to the information from the man himself, this substance was extraordinarily expensive, but because he knew the right people to ask, being introduced to it did not take long. Although why he would know such people is something to address in and of itself, I believe that is not the main takeaway from this information. I am certain your majesty understands my bigger concern?”

Zhongli frowned down at the little bottle. “Yes,” he said slowly, trying to map out all the problems he could. “Even with its high price, a substance like this circling the market is not something we can overlook. Acquiring the venom used as this poison’s base is alone a huge undertaking. To make even a few drops such as this, I believe raising the spiders rather than hunting and collecting them is a high likelihood. The high pricing is likely due to the length and complexity of the process, but I would say a market monopoly is also to be expected. While such a price will keep this substance away from most who would hold interest, the mere chance that someone might get their hands on this poison again and use it, is not something we can look through our fingers.”

“At least an antidote has now been developed,” someone commented but Zhongli shook his head.

“Unfortunately, it is not quite that simple. Although I do not claim to be an expert on the subject, the developed antidote relied heavily on external aid to work. Not every person will have adeptus healers by their side to hasten the process. That is to say, the antidote is too slow acting to prevent death even if administrated immediately. Even if we managed to mass-produce it and distribute it among pharmacies and other practitioners, it would not serve its purpose.” He looked up at Keqing. “Have you managed to track down whoever this was bought from?”

Keqing gave the papers in front of her a grim glance. “We have. Unfortunately, when we confronted him, he had a method ready to quickly silence himself. He was a black-market distributor and dealer with a wide web of connections. We require more time to track down the correct path of people to the source.”

“I will assign an adeptus to assist you. Although I wish to tell you to take as long as you require and indeed have great trust in your skills, we cannot allow this poison to get widespread around the underworld. I do not wish anyone to go through what I had to,” Zhongli said and raised his fingers to rub his chin, trying to think. “We should try to further develop the antidote as well; in the case the poison is already spreading.”

“Rest assured the person we have assigned to the job is highly capable, Rex Lapis,” Ningguang assured, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at the little wooden box. “As for the antidote, I have already taken some measures to help us with it. I have reached out to Sumeru’s Akademiya to request their expertise, since it is clearly their country where this substance originates from. They’ve promised to send over some manner of an expert on the subject. I made certain to emphasize the urgency and scale of the issue, but thanks to their own recent turmoil, it might take some time before we hear more from them, even with their sages already having found the new Dendro Archon.”

<What?> Morax perked up and Zhongli quickly turned to look at Ningguang, question in his eyes.

“The new Dendro Archon has surfaced? I have not heard of this.”

“Yes. One of my contacts reached out to me early this morning,” Ningguang explained and nodded to him. “It was on the list of things I meant to tell you during this meeting.”

How is there a new archon selected? Zhongli asked Morax for confirmation, while the Qixing continued the discussion about the negative effects and possibilities an incurable poison circling the underworld could bring about. Had you not confirmed that the Greater Lord was not dead?

<She isn’t. Of that I am certain, unless the situation has changed since then,> Morax replied, thoughtful. <What is more likely, is that she cannot return to her role as she is and a substitute has been selected. Whether she made that selection herself or someone else did, I cannot say.>

Zhongli studied the trickle of feelings and thoughts drifting his way through their connected souls. You wish to go and make certain of it?

<Yes,> Morax affirmed and Zhongli felt a little tug in their connection, like Morax was testing the waters. <Would that be alright with you, if I left for a while?>

You’re concerned for her, no? I will be fine here.

<I will come back, as soon as I am done. Please do not get into trouble while I am gone.>

 Zhongli felt a shiver run down his spine as the god left his mind. You too, he wished after Morax as their connection loosened. They were not often separated like this and now with their connection much deeper compared to the last time it had happened, Zhongli couldn’t stop the automatic feeling of loneliness that came over him without the other. It was quite literally like a piece of himself was missing, or perhaps out of place was a more apt description, since the basis of the connection remained. Moreover, he realised that Morax had indeed been supressing some of his memories, as he suddenly felt actively uncomfortable about the poison and the topic of discussion. It was like a whisper his brain forced him to recall: a ghost of pain from a tearing muscle that caused another shiver to run down his spine, but he managed to keep the thoughts off his face and masked the shivers by shifting in his chair, so that no one would notice and be bothered.

“Ningguang and I will continue to cooperate in solving this issue,” Keqing finished her overview of her plans so far. “On your majesty’s permission, we will proceed.”

“Permission granted,” Zhongli promised and then shook his head a few times, levelling all around the table with a steady gaze. “I feel like this is a good opportunity for me to reiterate, that I trust the judgement and skills of the Qixing. If not demanded by law as part of the procedures, in the future, you may do what you deem necessary addressing the issues you encounter in your work without seeking my approval for each. As long as you keep me informed me of your plans, I can stop or refine them if I deem it necessary. If you run into trouble or are uncertain, you may always seek consultation from me, be it for opinion or counsel.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Keqing muttered in clear relief, before closing the lid of the wooden box and speaking up. “That does indeed make things much easier for us and the daily procedures much faster. We will do our utmost in handling our duties in ways that you need not get involved.”

Ningguang hummed. “Naturally. But I for one look forwards to discussing in length with your majesty at a later time. I find myself curious about to your take and thoughts on some matters and much look forward to seeing just how far we can advance together.”

The Tianquan’s trust in him was flattering if a little daunting. Zhongli found himself smiling at her words all the same. “I will strive to meet your expectations.”

Keqing sighed. “I have to admit, even without all the additional drama, I didn’t quite understand just how much the switch in emperors could potentially change how things are handled. I am glad your majesty does not intend to revise the entire system or indeed require us to always go through yourself every time when making decisions.”

“Even if I had such plans, now is hardly the time to reinvent the entire government,” Zhongli frowned a little. “There is quite enough on all of our plates as is.”

“You’re right,” Keqing said, giving him a softer look than the professional one she usually wore. “I’m glad we agree on this. You can also come to me if there is ever anything you’d like to discuss.” She quickly turned away and cleared her throat when Zhongli raised his eyebrows and looked so pleasantly surprised at her words. “Anyway, we should continue onward. This is an important day and we do not want to spend it all at a meeting indoors.”

As the Yuheng hurried them on and Zhongli agreed to advance their meeting to the next subject, he could not help but wonder at the trust the Qixing were giving him. He had gotten along with Ningguang quite well in his opinion, when they had met before his coronation for dinner, which had given him some hope that he could find his place in this new role sooner than what the council meeting had back then suggested. But while he understood that the Qixing did no longer have or at least show as much scrutiny towards him, it felt a little odd how much they seemed to trust and value his words and judgement. Although they were the nation’s leading experts in their respective fields, they were readily listening to his comments and seemed to find value in his opinions. Despite Morax’s knowledge backing him up, Zhongli was by no means an expert on these subjects. For people who had not yet known or worked with him for long, the Qixing seemed to be very trusting and accepting of his leadership. Perhaps this was to be expected: he was the emperor after all, so while they had the experience, on paper, he was higher in authority than all others here. Seeing Morax’s influence and reputation in full swing would take some time to get used to.

“Speaking of money,” the Qixing member in charge of the mints, Luosheng, added on the current topic of bending developmental finances that had waited for the emperor’s return to finally get approved. “Is the creation of it on your schedule in the near future? It would ease my mind to know what to expect.”

“It was my intention to visit the Golden House as soon as the hustle of the coronation blows over,” Zhongli replied. He wondered how exactly the emperor always created Mora. He suspected it was a ritual of some kind that Morax would go through with him in detail when the time came. “How are our reserves? Will that be enough or will the financial situation suffer further if we yet delay?”

Luosheng raised his hands in prayer in front of his chest and inclined his head to him. “As long as I have a promise of the stability to come, I can adjust the distribution of the reserves, your majesty.”

“I will schedule it into my day as soon as possible,” Zhongli promised.

The meeting ran a bit longer than expected, with the new subjects added and just for the amount of discussion on some topics. When Zhongli finally concluded the meeting and dismissed everyone to their own duties, it was well past midday and the sun shone down warmly near its highest peak. Zhongli exchanged a few more words with Ningguang, before hurrying his steps towards the palace hall reserved still for the infected soldiers. He would only check up on them and the personnel today and reinforce the wards if needed. Too many repeated treatments of his current capacity could prove overwhelming and backfire on their attempts to mentally stabilise the soldiers, who were some already teetering at the edge of madness. They needed time to be allowed to heal at a slower and steadier pace between the more intense cleansings. Zhongli still took the time to go through the condition and check the miasma levels of each remaining soldier with the healers and doctors, to better assess the situation and the appropriate care they needed. One of the human doctors (Dr Baizhu was currently absent on the accounts of his personal health), followed him around through the whole check-up and noted down all statuses and the instructions they discussed.

Following a quick dinner afterward, Zhongli finally found himself in the side rooms of Yiyan Temple. His schedule was marked open for now, meaning that he could finally take some time to check in with celebrations in the city. Normally, the emperor would take this day to hold a celebration with their family and circle of friends, and get better acquainted with and settle in their new home with them, but no such activities were on the list this time. Rex Lapis usually had the time to talk with the previous emperor’s staff and the adepti about some events they would like have arranged for the celebrations, but that too was being currently mostly improvised as they went.

Still, during the time of his final recovery after the Rite of Ascension had formally been re-scheduled, the people of Liyue had started cautiously preparing on their own. The second day of coronation was a day of public merriment: a day where all citizens could come together to honour their archon with the smiles he had once promised to win them, as a show of thanks. Eagerness to celebrate was lingering in the air, mixing with the anxiety and caution everyone had accumulated. This had ended in what Zhongli had heard from the adepti describe: a quite peculiar and different celebration compared to the usual ones. Instead of grand shows, huge public events, parades or orderly set venues, which all still existed to some extent, far more smaller stalls, exhibitions, events and games littered the streets of the harbour than usual. Even after the news that their emperor had awoken and would return, the lanterns so many had toiled to release every night now having fulfilled their purpose, many yet held onto the mindset that they needed to show their piety. Many smaller businesses, entrepreneurs, groups of friends, families, institutes and even individuals had set up their own ways to celebrate and now shared their work and effort with everyone else in the city.

When Zhongli had heard this, he had not been completely able to keep his spike in interest and excitement off his face, although he had tried to remain more proper about it. He wanted to see the city streets and everything that people had come up with, while hoping that he still could, even with his new status. The lively atmosphere to enjoy the activities and foods would dampen with his arrival, with everyone most likely not only shocked to see him, but too confused or nervous to keep expressing themselves freely while he was present. That did leave Zhongli anxious, because he did not want to ruin the fun for others with his presence, but even so, he could not contain his enthusiasm to see everything for himself.

But now that he had reached the temple and greeted the personnel inside, he found himself stopping. The main temple was no longer closed to the public and the main hall was full of people who had come to pay their respects to their god. He was but one room and a short corridor away from them and could hear the hustle coming in from beyond the closed door. Instead of opening the door, Zhongli found himself walking up to the window and taking a moment to quietly look outside. From this window, he could only see a glimpse of the Terrace, but even from this angle, he could make out the bustling of the crowd.

Ganyu, who had been following him frequently throughout the day, looked between him and the door, puzzled. As the silence stretched, she came closer. “Is something the matter?” she asked and inclined her head when she heard him sigh a little and glance towards her. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to pry! Just that… you have been expecting the moment you could go talk with the people. Are you nervous, by any chance? Not that I mean to—”

“Perhaps I am,” Zhongli stopped her from explaining circles around her words. He could not deny that he was: not being eager to be the centre of attention and possibly ruin the festive mood for everyone else, just by showing up. But that wasn’t exactly what was keeping him from opening the door. At least, it wasn’t the only thing. “I would be lying if I claimed I was not nervous about the people’s reaction to my presence among them. What I wish is highly unusual.”

“I think it is a beautiful wish, Rex Lapis,” Ganyu encouraged him sincerely. “I hope you can have the people by your side exactly as you want.” She smiled a little at a memory that came into her mind. “If I may comment, back when you discussed with the other victims of the kidnapping incident…” She glanced at him for a second, as if waiting for an order to stop, but when he made no move to interrupt, she continued. “Once the ice was broken, you looked so much more relaxed discussing with them than how I’ve usually seen you be since we found you. So I… I hope to see that expression on your face again. My apologies for being so forward.”

“Being forward is something I greatly appreciate,” Zhongli assured her. “Good communication is key when working with others effectively and we have a long time to come to work with one another in particular, on very important subjects no less.” He turned away from the window to properly face her. “I look forward to working with you and hope we can get along while doing so, miss Ganyu. And thank you. I appreciate your sentiment. Please, do not hesitate to tell me what you think, whatever the subject may be.”

“There you go again,” Ganyu muttered, fiddling with her hair a little and cleared her throat. “I umm… I look forward to working with you as well, your majesty.”

Zhongli smiled at her mannerism, turning back towards the window. She always had the habit of fidgeting nervously whenever he complimented something, even indirectly. Ganyu had an impeccable work ethic from what he had seen so far, but whenever there was a moment where she did not need to arrange something behind the scenes, she didn’t seem quite sure what to do with herself. He hoped she was getting enough sleep. Nevertheless, he was yet to give her a proper answer so he continued. “But returning to the matter of meeting the people, I can’t help but wonder if I should wait a while before joining them today.”

“Why is that?” Ganyu asked.

It was quite simple, actually: Morax hadn’t returned yet. Zhongli contemplated the god’s absence for a moment before answering the question. “There is a certain someone we both know who has also looked forward to meeting the people like this. I’m afraid he is currently preoccupied with something else.”

“Lord Morax is… busy?” Ganyu confirmed, a hint of worry making its way into her voice. “Is he not with you? Did something happen?”

“Nothing important. Or well: it is important, but nothing you need to trouble yourself with, for now at least. Just tying up some loose ends and checking on things only he can,” Zhongli explained, not wanting to divulge too much of Morax’s excursions without permission. He looked towards the door that would lead him to the grand hall of the temple. “But he is indeed presently not consciously with me. I can’t help but wish to wait for his return, before I go about seeing the people of Liyue. He has both been eager to see it and has tirelessly encouraged me to go through with it whenever I doubted myself. Although we could simply share the memory afterwards, I think waiting for him to join and share the experience with me is the least I can do in return.”

Ganyu nodded knowingly. “I think he would appreciate it as well. But the celebrations only last for so long. Do you know when he might be done with… whatever he is doing?”

Zhongli sighed again and shook his head. “I don’t. Thus, my hesitance whether to wait or not. If I knew when he plans to return, I could make a clear decision. But as it stands, I’m afraid I have no idea. As you said, if I wait too long, we might miss our chance to have this experience at all.”

“That will not do,” Ganyu said immediately and emphatically, but faltered when he raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. “I mean… Both lord Barbatos and lady Keqing have asked me to make sure you have time to relax and enjoy yourself today. I cannot possibly let you entirely miss the festivities, even because of lord Morax.”

Zhongli blinked at her a couple of times, surprised. “The Yuheng asked you that as well?”

“Oh!” Ganyu twitched, looking like she had been caught doing something bad. “Yes. …She did,” she admitted. Zhongli guessed by her reaction, that she hadn’t been supposed to reveal that to him.

Zhongli reeled in the revelation for a second, taken aback, but chuckled then. “If you happen to see her, please tell her that I sent her my thanks for the consideration.” The Yuheng did seem often concerned for his wellbeing, now that he thought about it. He’d have to pick himself up a little to not cause her grey hairs. That said, Zhongli took a deep breath and walked to the door. He could at least see the people coming to the temple and the ones flocking around the Yujing Terrace while waiting for Morax. When the god returned, hopefully they still had time to visit the streets together.

But just as his hand reached for the door handle, a concentration of hydro energy entered the room, bringing his attention to the circling water that materialized nearby. From between the ribbons of dancing water, one of the five yaksha emerged, kneeling on the floor.

“My lord,” Bonanus reported in as soon as the waters around her dissipated, bowing her head down. “I come with a report from the harbour. The Crux Fleet has returned from Inazuma.”

Zhongli’s eyes widened and he turned fully towards the yaksha as she explained the state of the docking ship and its crew. When there was a pause, he looked up at Ganyu. “I guess this gives us a valid excuse to wait for Morax’s return for a time.”

“Wait for… what?” Bonanus asked, looking up confused.

“Nothing. I think a meeting with captain Beidou is in order.” His eye met with Ganyu’s. “Can we arrange a meeting with her at this time? Ningguang is likely interested to hear from her as well.”

News from the nation secluded from the world almost since the start of this debacle. Inazuma… Finally. At least Zhongli had high hopes that the legendary captain had made her way through the storm and back successfully and returned with information. Morax would want to hear all about it as well later on.

Ganyu opened her mouth to say something that died in her mouth, before nodding and starting again. “Of course, Rex Lapis. I will arrange it immediately.”

“The west-most lounge of the first level should give us plenty of privacy and peace,” Zhongli pondered aloud, the thoughts of walking among the people pushed aside as his brain geared up into working mode again. Ganyu and Bonanus at his heels, he made his way back towards the governing offices behind the temple with brisk steps. “It is well out of the way from the busiest hustle and should offer a comfortable environment. I’m suspecting the captain to be quite tired after a long and tough voyage. Not to mention, depending on what news she brings, the information could be quite sensitive. Let us meet somewhere we will not be disturbed. With some refreshments on the side. A long voyage comes with its fair share of monotonous and limited food, after all.”

Truthfully, he felt a little bad for hurrying the captain to give her reports so soon after docking back home. But with the potentially world-shaking matters at play, they needed to hear her news as soon as possible. Was the Electro Archon alright? Had Inazuma been attacked as well? Could Zhongli possibly even hope for more information about their enemies? He would make it up to the captain, after the report was given. She and her crew deserved a good rest and a reward for their work. But for now, unfortunately, that work needed to be finished first.

At the same time down in the city, where the people of Liyue had unknowingly just missed the opportunity to meet face to face with their archon, two travellers had made their way into the bustling main street of the city.

“So much for a relaxing time out exploring the city,” Aether breathed out, in wonder of the huge crowd and joyous, bubbling atmosphere. They had heard on their way that the coronation of the new emperor of the country was nigh, but had missed the main day because of some unfortunate slime incidents. But they had arrived just in time for the big festival day. “Mondstadt really doesn’t compare to the sheer magnitude of this event. Look at all these people.”

“Yeah, I’m looking,” Lumine replied, her eyes darting around, drinking in all the sights. It had taken them quite some time to reach even this far into the city, with all the food stalls, games and other sights on their way. But the main street was its whole entirely own story. “We’ve heard rumours that the people of Liyue really love their god. If this is what they come up with for his proxy, I guess that must be true. What do you think he’s like?”

“The new emperor?” Aether asked. “Who knows. We could ask around. But if he’s new, would even the people really know?”

They had heard from Venti the Geo Archon himself was blundering buffoon with questionable social skills, but they had quickly learnt to take everything Venti said with a grain of salt. This new emperor, who supposedly housed the god’s consciousness somehow and spoke in his stead, Venti had described to be “a good kid”. Again: healthy dose of scepticism had been administrated. Judging by the way they had heard people talking about Rex Lapis, the people here would not overly appreciate either of those descriptions anyway.

Honestly the concept of having a god just choose someone to rule the entire country sounded really weird to the twins, but the people seemed to like it and Liyue was a prosperous country, so: it must be working? Their friends in Mondstadt had warned them that Liyue had been facing some sort of a crisis as well, even going to war with their adversaries recently, but luckily the two of them had only encountered minor monsters on their way. Still, they were interested to know more of what had happened here so far and perhaps learn something new of those people who had attacked Mondstadt as well. It was not their intention to get involved, in fact it was their policy if it could be avoided. But neither of them had the personality to stand completely idle while someone they cared about was in trouble. If things had settled down in this nation already: good. But at least they could try to figure out some information to share with the friends they had made back in Mondstadt.

“What do you think—whoa—” Aether’s question was interrupted when he was pulled down the streets after his sister had picked a direction.

“I think it is way too hot out to climb up so many stairs in a big crowd. Come, let’s start here,” Lumine chatted and dragged him along until Aether found his balance. “That iced fruit juice looks delicious.” She pointed at the stall that had caught her attention and seeing it, Aether had to agree.

Sunsettia and apple-based drinks in hand respectively, the twins made their way to a free, small table in the corner and sat down to enjoy their refreshments. To kill some time, they started listening to the people on the neighbouring tables, trying to gather some information. Apparently, something huge had happened yesterday during the actual coronation and nobody could shut up about it. Earlier, they had met an old granny at her stall closer to the main entrance to the city, who had also told them how she felt her whole life’s hardships were now much easier to bear after she had somehow connected with their god on some ritual. Something to do with an important contract, the twins had gathered, but they were still shoddy on the details. It all sounded a little too nonsensical for them to make out without asking someone for a story where all the details were in order. The new emperor was on everyone’s lips, opinions on his looks, strength and wisdom painting quite a picture for the twins to imagine.

“Excuse me, may I sit here? Everywhere in here is so full.” The twins looked up at the pink haired girl who had walked up to their table. When they nodded, the young woman sighed in relief and sat down opposite to them, setting her drink down on the table. “Thank you. Whew, I really need to rest my legs for a while. There is so much going on in this city right now, it is impossible to cover everything, even when I started as early as I could.”

The twins glanced at each other, trying to nonverbally communicate which of them should take up on the conversation with this new person.

“Is there a need to cover everything?” Aether asked after his sister raised her eyebrows in a way he knew meant “you take this one”.

“Yes! As much as I can,” their new companion chattered, correcting her hat and wiping some sweat from her forehead under its brim. “The coronation of Liyue’s emperor usually only happens once or twice in a life time. And the sheer amount of material to gather is a gold mine for a reporter like me.” She smiled and extended her hand over the table towards them. “Charlotte. Nice to meet you. I am a reporter for the Steambird magazine. You two don’t look like you’re from around here. Are you from Liyue?”

“No, we um… we came from Mondstadt,” Aether didn’t technically lie, shaking her hand. “This is our first time in this city.”

“Lumine. This is my brother: Aether,” Lumine introduced them and shook Charlotte’s hand in turn. “We’re travelling around.”

“Oh, if you’re not from around here, could I ask you for some outside opinions?” Charlotte immediately asked and pulled out a thick booklet from her purse. “What do you think of the celebrations? How does it feel for someone who does not revere the same god? Do you feel welcome here? What are you most interest in seeing during your visit?”

“Uh, I think we’ll need some more time to know for sure, but the people have been very friendly,” Aether answered, slightly overwhelmed but simultaneously a little pulled in by the pure enthusiasm.

“We don’t really know much around here yet,” Lumine admitted, trying to bait Charlotte into sharing some info with them. “You’ve been walking around today? Any recommendations?”

“Too many to count,” Charlotte said, taking a sip of her drink. “I recommend simply walking around and checking whatever piques your interest. Personally, I wish I had a little more time to appreciate everything, but there is simply too much for me to cover on my own if I stick around investigating and interviewing for too long. But the recreational plays in Chihu Rock have been gathering a lot of attention.”

“What are the plays about?”

“Rex Lapis, who else?”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Lumine muttered and tilted her head at Charlotte, leaning on the table. “You were here yesterday too, yeah? Have you seen the new emperor? What’s he like?”

Charlotte took a deep breath. “Where to even begin… Truth to be told, I was struggling to construct the material into an article all night.” Her shoulders sagged a little at the weight of an all-nighter but she quickly picked herself up and straightened with determination. “To describe meeting a god in a concise way and with an eye-catching title: what’s a better challenge! Our readers need to be able to catch that feeling of otherworldly presence like they were there themselves. I can probably make a couple of paragraphs on his looks alone and people will eat it up. I wish I could have gotten closer… I couldn’t get a good picture. Even from afar, there was so much to gather from only the reactions of the crowd. Imagine being on the rungs close to the stage.”

Charlotte had drifted off into talking to herself, trying to structure an article in her head. Aether and Lumine listened to her go on about her findings, commenting along and asking or answering questions at times. After the initial awkwardness, the conversation soon became easier and light-hearted in tone, their drinks quickly depleting on the side as they spend their breaks together. Charlotte was happy to have a target to throw her ideas at to better make sense and go through them, while Lumine and Aether had found an enthusiastic and informed teacher to catch them up on what all had happened in Liyue. Charlotte had been stationed in Liyue for around a month, having been in Mondstadt prior, before an order came from her company to move over to Liyue and stay as an onsite reporter to keep up with the incidents there.

She had gotten a lot more to write about than she had expected.

“I can’t imagine who in their right mind would attempt to assassinate their own god at time of national and international crisis,” Charlotte said, slightly exasperated, sipping down the rest of her drink. The ice in her glass clinked around with a jingle. “I went to see the perpetrator when that was made possible. It gave me some answers, sure, but it also raised so many new questions. I wish I could interview the people high up the ladder. But arranging an interview with the Qixing or the adepti is very difficult right now, let alone Rex Lapis himself. I’ve been trying to pull some strings, but with everything in a constant state of swaying one way or the other over the edge of a razor, it does not leave many opportunities for me to put my toes between the closing doors. I’ve directed my efforts into chronicling the public response instead, while gathering as many facts as I can on the side.” She pouted. “But my pride as a journalist still makes me want to get to the bottom of things and provide the hidden truths to our readers. Urgh… I’ll find a way yet, just watch me.”

Lumine chuckled. “If it helps, I can already say that I’m looking forward to reading your article when it comes out.”

Charlotte groaned. “If it comes out.”

“Come on, I’m sure the people in your company will see the hard work you’ve put into it,” Aether tried to encourage her, but Charlotte shook her head.

“That’s not it: I know I can write a correspondence that will capture audience attention and have people talking for weeks,” she said, confidently, but worry etched deeper onto her face as she talked. “It’s just that, ever since I came here, all issues of the Steambird have been postponed. I’ve been sending update articles and extra materials to them for a month, but the magazine itself hasn’t come out here in Liyue even once. When it got delayed a second time, I went to check in with our distribution branch here but they hadn’t heard anything either. I asked about it, but the only reply I got from the main office said to stay put and keep recording the events. So I have but…” She looked like a wave of homesickness was washing over her. “I wish they’d tell me what is going on at home.”

The twins looked at each other. “I hope things get cleared up soon,” Lumine consoled Charlotte.

“Yeah. It’s also just frustrating to me as a reporter to be so out of the loop on something,” Charlotte replied, picking herself back up again and stood up. “Well, thanks for letting me chat with you for a while, it was really refreshing. But I got to bounce and continue my rounds around the city so I can check as many things and meet as many people as possible. If we meet again later, can you then share with me more of your thoughts on the festival as travellers?”

“Sure,” both the twins promised and wished their goodbyes and good lucks to the reporter as she left. All three of their drinks had been finished, only ice slowly melting in their glasses.

“I guess we now know something at least,” Aether commented, watching as his sister fished up an ice cube to eat from her glass. “Your thoughts?”

“I really want to meet Rex Lapis,” Lumine said, rolling a cube around in her mouth, while whirling the remaining ice in her glass absentmindedly. “He sounds interesting. And since we’ve come to this world, I’ve been interested in seeing places and meeting the people, sure, but their gods sound so peculiar. Do you think we could try and meet them all?”

“Well one down, six to go.” Aether shrugged. “But I doubt we will just randomly run into all of them, like we did with Venti. And why would the emperor agree to meet us?”

“There’s some sort of final show for this festival tomorrow, yeah? He should show up there. Maybe we could try and get close?”

“Um, excuse me, do you want to get arrested?”

“I guess you have a point,” Lumine admitted in defeat as they stood up and thanked the stall owner for their drinks. Now refreshed and rested, they were ready to continue their adventure. “SO. Where to next?”

“You’re the one who’s been dragging me around so far.”

“Exactly: your turn to pick.”

As they picked the next attraction to check, they walked past two others who had only just made their way into the city. A pair of tall, dark-furred ears twitched in the direction of their conversation, but dismissed the attempt when their owner’s companion spoke.

“Collei would have loved this,” Cyno commented, studying the assortment of plushies on display in front of them. “We should have taken her along.”

Tighnari sighed, shaking his head. “No, she would not have enjoyed the crowd. In fact, I don’t enjoy the crowd: can we move to a quieter area soon, please? Besides, we’re not here to sightsee, but to meet the emperor himself. Please stay focused.”

“I am focused. It’s not like we are going to get to meet with him today,” Cyno replied, standing up straight with a little, sitting orange fox plushie in his hands. “We will make our way through the city and report our arrival to the ministry of foreign affairs, once we get there. There is no reason to run our way there like there is a wenut on your tail.”

“Still, could you at least look like we’re here on important business?” Tighnari asked, glancing at the plushie stand that was being swarmed by children beside the two of them.

Cyno frowned and held the mini plushie up on his palm for the other to see. “I am working. Gathering information is a crucial part of any investigation. Criminals often try to find the most unusual places to hide their goods in plain sight, to escape inspections. Like inside plushies.”

Tighnari looked unamused. “Are you serious?”

“No.” Cyno offered the little stitched paw of the plushie for Tighnari to shake. “My name is Cyno.”

Tighnari’s palm met with his face with a loud slap. “Pleeease. If you have to try and be funny, at least try to be original.”

“That wasn’t funny? Do you need me to explain it? You see, you asked if I was—”

“No, stop,” Tighnari groaned and grabbed his companion’s shoulder to turn him around to direct him away from the stand. He handed a couple coins of Mora to the stall owner for the plushie that Cyno was clutching in his hand and pushed his companion along to try and get going. Unfortunately, his first shove ended up with them colliding with a woman who was passing by behind them. “Oh! Our apologies, ma’am.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Beidou assured and continued on her way, shouting over her shoulder as she went. “Just watch out where you’re walking next time, yeah?”

“Everything alright, captain?” the adeptus who had been accompanying her asked as she caught up. Two white tiger ears peeked from between the messy hair, as the only tell of her guide’s status, discreet enough to go unnoticed in the crowd. The adeptus had introduced herself when coming to get her but Beidou didn’t remember what the name had been. Fu… something.

“It’s nothing,” Beidou shrugged the bump on her shoulder off, even if it had made her wrapped up arm ache a little. “Let’s keep going. Better not keep Rex Lapis waiting.” Truthfully, despite the long and arduous journey behind them, she was excited to see him. After everything they had seen beyond the sea, it was a relief to return home and see their emperor had finally shown up. She had expected to be called for a report quickly, but not by the emperor himself. I wonder what he’s like… From everything she had heard since returning, it sounded like they had missed a lot.

Chapter Text

“So, we’ve missed quite a bit back home while we were out and about, yeah? Happy to see good old Rex Lapis is back, but: what all happened here?” Beidou asked after she and the adeptus had left the crowds behind and made their way through the outer palace. They were in the western areas now, well out of the earshot of anyone else. Beidou looked around, curious. She had never been this deep into the imperial palace. She had expected there to be some sort of celebration going on inside, but after they had left the temple and the governing areas, every place was empty and silent. It felt a little off to her. “How come we only now have the coronation? Did it take this long to find the new guy? Ningguang must have been bending over backwards to keep things working if that’s the case. The last I heard was that there was some beef between you guys and the Qixing, before we went out of the loop. Is all that stuff sorted out now?”

The adeptus looked bothered by her increasing probing and unsure how to answer. “It’s a bit more complicated. We were only pretending to be at odds with the Qixing, on Rex Lapis’ orders, to lure out our enemies.”

Beidou laughed a little. “Okay, now I know you’ve had Ningguang running in circles. The new emperor sounds like a shrewd one, if he came up with that.”

The adeptus glanced at her, disapproval in her features. “Please do not laugh at this matter, captain. You know next to nothing. We’ve also had a very real argument with the Qixing and the people of Liyue, which I am personally still very miffed about.”

Beidou raised her hands in defence. “Hey, no need to be on the edge now. I’m sorry if I was insensitive. I get it: I don’t have all the details and should check the facts before making comments. Something big must have happened here, yeah?”

“Oh, nothing much,” the adeptus muttered, tensing and biting out her words half aloud. “We just had a serial kidnapping incident, went to a war against the Abyss and to top it off, a member of the city council tried to kill Rex Lapis and broke the divine Contract.”

Beidou stopped on her tracks. “Okay, hold up. That’s… a lot to hear at once,” the captain stuttered a little, reeling in what she had been told. “Are you serious? There was a war? People were getting kidnapped? By who: did you catch them? Is everyone alright? And why would a member of the government try to go against the God of Contracts?”

The adeptus looked over her shoulder, pent up frustrations on her face. “For absurd reasons, that’s what! Rex Lapis held a signing ceremony for the Contract only yesterday, after being way more lenient with the punishments than that fiend ever deserved!” she growled, clearly letting out something she hadn’t found an opportunity to vent about properly. Taking a deep breath, she turned away, trying to calm down, and added. “It was the Abyss who kept kidnapping people to get to Rex Lapis. We barely stopped their plans in time and then struck back when the opportunity arose.”

Beidou was processing just how many questions she had for Ningguang when they’d have a moment to talk. How much national history being made had they missed by being out of the country? They had only been away for a month. “It sounds like things have been really chaotic. Hey, is… are things getting better now? Ningguang aside, must not have been easy for the new guy to follow-up on all of that, the first thing. Did someone really try to get to him? That’s… pretty insane to think about. Is Rex Lapis okay and all that?”

“I don’t know!” the adeptus let out a burst again, digging her fingers into her short hair. Beidou’s questions were getting under her skin. “I don’t know… He was held captive for days, used so much power he collapsed, nearly died and got nothing but distrust in return. But he worked harder than anyone. Took responsibility for everything. I don’t understand how he is ‘okay’. But that’s what he says… That’s all he ever says,” she whimpered, breathing through her teeth as she gradually forgot Beidou was even there. “We haven’t been able to be there for him at all. We don’t deserve a feast. Why do you say it’s not our fault? My lord, please, we can’t—”

“Fúxa!” her ramblings were silenced with a sharp order and Beidou startled when a crackle of electricity raised her hair as a hulking form materialized next to them. Bosacius had thunder in his face as he talked to the other adeptus. “You talk too much. Compose yourself.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Fúxa said quietly and turned away from them both.

Bosacius’s expression softened slightly, but he remained stern. “Do not shove our problems onto a guest.” He turned to Beidou and nodded minutely. “Captain Beidou, Rex Lapis is awaiting your arrival. Please do not delay.”

“My apologies for my unbecoming behaviour,” Fúxa said as Bosacius disappeared, turning around with an entirely too quickly levelled emotions, and nodded before continuing. “This way, please.”

Beidou followed, quietly, resisting the urge to encourage the other to speak more. The adeptus guiding her along had closed the lid on her feelings as quickly as they had burst out. Like holding a hand on top of a leak in a container, suddenly slipping and letting the insides spill for a moment before managing to get it back under control. While underneath the quick patch, nothing was getting fixed. Beidou had never seen an adeptus react like this to something. The illuminated guardians were the picture of refined professionalism and steadfastness. They had powers mortals could mostly only dream of and held in their hands wisdom gathered across many centuries. Had so much happened in a short time that even the adepti had trouble keeping a level head like this? As a leader herself, Beidou felt a bitterness on her tongue at the thought that Rex Lapis was letting things fester under a lid like this. She could think of a few choice words to say to him about the subject.

After leading Beidou through set of doors to the right area, Fúxa knocked onto the frame of a sliding door. “Your majesty? Captain Beidou has arrived.”

“Ah, excellent. Please, come in,” a smooth voice responded from the other side.

The adeptus slid the door open and bowed, before stepping aside to let Beidou inside. The sea captain remained rooted to the floor for a moment, as she saw the new Rex Lapis for the first time.

“Good afternoon, captain Beidou,” Rex Lapis wished her, standing up from his chair. A completely normal action that he somehow managed to make look extremely refined. Was it just the expensive, flowing clothes that added to the effect or was that something he managed naturally? Beidou had heard a lot of gushing as they had made their way through the city about how good-looking this new Rex Lapis was, and seeing him now, she understood where it was coming from. Adding the two gleaming horns that crowned his head, he did paint quite the picture just standing there. “And welcome back home to Liyue,” Rex Lapis continued, unaware of her scrutiny. “Thank you for answering my summons on such a short notice. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, your majesty,” Beidou replied, stepping inside now. She puckered her lips a little, unable to shake the feeling that he had met this man before. “Sorry if I’m being rude here but: have I seen you somewhere before?”

“Oh? Hmm…” Rex Lapis thought about it for a moment, supporting his elbow with one hand while the other one was brought to his chin in contemplation. “I have seen you before yes, but we haven’t truly met. You contacted the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor once to conduct a funeral for one of your crewmates who was lost at sea. He lacked relatives I believe, so you took charge of the matter. It was the director herself who handled the proceedings, but I did help her gather some materials. I remember delivering them to your ship, but you were busy discussing something with director Hu, so I do not believe we were officially introduced.”

Wangsheng? “Wait,” Beidou uttered as things clicked into place inside her head. “You’re that gentleman from the Funeral Parlor who my crewmates sometimes talk about.”

“Please mind your tone, captain,” Fúxa warned sharply from behind her.

Rex Lapis waved her off. “It’s perfectly alright. I am honoured someone as esteemed as yourself would recognize me. I have indeed aided in the final goodbyes of many throughout the years, so perhaps that is how your crew would know of me. I do hope their words have given you a good enough impression of me.” He smiled over Beidou’s shoulder to the adeptus still at the door. “Thank you, Fúxa, for escorting the captain here. Oh but, I heard some shouting just before you arrived. I was deep in my thoughts and did not wish to intrude either way by listening in more closely. But is everything alright?”

“Yes, my lord,” Fúxa replied and Beidou stiffened at the smile plastered on the adeptus’s face. The adeptus inclined her head into a refined bow again. “It is nothing you need to worry about.” She took a step back and reached to close the door behind her. “I will be nearby, waiting to escort the captain back to her ship. Call for me if you need anything.”

Beidou watched as her escort closed the door. She had to hold herself back to not stop the adeptus from leaving with a sharp “isn’t there something you wish to say to him”. She had momentarily planned to confront Rex Lapis about not taking proper care of his subordinates’ wellbeing, but she was starting to see that that wasn’t the issue here. Her eyes turned back at the man who returned her stiff gaze with concerned tilt of his head. Beidou was too busy piecing together the bigger picture in front of her to worry about manners, even when Rex Lapis shifted under her gaze. It wasn’t her place to educate a god or his followers about anything, but she could barely hold herself back on calling out a very clear problem she had just witnessed.

“Is something the matter, captain?”

Beidou turned her eyes briefly back towards the closed door, wondering if the problem one or two-sided. Whether she should interfere or not, she at least shouldn’t jump to conclusions. “Say, your majesty,” she decided to test. “You doing alright?”

Rex Lapis looked perplexed that she would ask and for a moment, Beidou thought she caught him looking genuinely bothered her question, before she was treated to a soft reassurance. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

That’s all he ever says, echoed in the back of Beidou’s mind.

Were the adepti right to think that Rex Lapis was harbouring things on his own and hiding stuff from them? There was a clear problem with communication for her to see here and although one side seemed to at least make some effort to address it, Rex Lapis wasn’t pushing the issue either. Would he, if Beidou tipped him off? Or would she be prying open some wounds better left closed? She was not the cautious type, not when something was clearly wrong in front of her, but still: this was a god. Their god, no less. Ningguang would probably tell her to not mingle with it, but that had about a fifty-fifty chance of ever stopping her. Beidou remembered back to Fúxa’s outburst, while looking at the man in front of her. He did not look like someone who had faced major hardships and personal harm for the past month. Was it actually a ruse? Or was he just that put together and strong to handle and get over everything so soon?

“Captain?”

Beidou shook her head. “Sorry. Just checking. I heard some things on the way here, to help me catch up what all we’ve missed. It was quite a lot to hear at once,” she decided to say, trying to strike a balance of not being rude to a god and still getting involved with his personal business, although being indirect about it was gnawing at her. This is why she didn’t like dealing with nobility. So much tiptoeing around things that could be said straight…

“Oh. I see.” Rex Lapis looked at somewhere to the side with a little frown. “I can see how that would be overwhelming.” His eyes met hers again and he frowned a little. “It seems like you have something on your mind, captain. Is there something I could help you with?” he offered and Beidou saw him glancing at her bandaged left arm. “I see you have been injured.”

Beidou felt like he was seeing right through her, despite her efforts to be subtle. “No, nothing like that,” she said but at the sight of him looking so goddamn bothered by her attempts to follow at least some manner of an etiquette, she gave up on trying not to interfere. “I just heard the adeptus lady speak her mind a little on the way here,” she let out, before she could form another thought to stop herself.

“Oh?” Rex Lapis raised his eyebrows and his frown turned thoughtful. “Something she didn’t wish to tell me then, I’m guessing.”

“I’m about to tell you in her stead though,” Beidou warned.

Rex Lapis shook his head, stopping her from just blurting it out. “No. If she doesn’t wish to tell me, I do not wish to pry. I’ve tried to make myself clear, that should they want to talk with me of anything, they can do so.”

While Beidou did think that his view on it was admirably, sometimes a leader needed to be a little more assertive and now was one of those times, in her mind. “Okay then, I won’t tell you. But let me say this then, because I don’t think this is something she will come to you about, even though she should. I heard her mention a feast. Is that something you have planned up?”

“That is correct. I have invited the adepti to dine together to commemorate the occasion.”

Beidou placed a hand on her hip and nodded. “A banquet sounds like a good idea. Nothing like a good party to loosen things up. It’d be good for you all to talk things through. Seriously.”

Rex Lapis looked perplexed again. “That was my intention, yes,” he said after a few seconds, relaxing. “And it might have not been your intention, but… thank you for the encouragement.”

“Hey, anytime,” Beidou said cheerfully, relaxing now that she had gotten some of that gnawing feeling of wrongness out of her chest. She was also happy she had gotten away with it. She’d need to ask Ningguang to check on things later, to hear if things had turned for the better. “And no need to worry about the arm, by the way: it’s just some scrapes from handling the ropes while the sea was rough.” She stepped back and smiled at the emperor, bowing down her head. “I went about this a little backwards, but let’s get that official introduction out of the way. I am captain Beidou of the Crux Fleet. It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. And hey: congrats for the successful coronation. Heard you’ve had a rocky start.”

“Um… I suppose that is one way to put it,” Rex Lapis replied, shifting his weight around a little. He cleared his throat. “It is a pleasure to finally talk with you as well. And thank you for your hard work. I hope you have brought some information for us. Oh, but: we should wait a moment until the Tianquan arrives before getting to that topic.” He gestured towards the table. “Could I interest you in some refreshments?”

“Nice, thanks,” Beidou accepted. The emperor didn’t seem to be overly uptight, which suited her just fine. “So, fair lady Tianquan is coming over too, is she?” she asked as the emperor and her took their seats at the table. “How are you two getting along? Alright?”

“I believe I’ve gotten along with her well enough so far, for my part. Why do you ask?”

Beidou chuckled a little. “Ningguang and I go way back. We sometimes meet up, usually for a game of chess or a couple of drinks.” She watched curiously as the emperor poured her a cup of tea, wondering if the etiquette was going a little backwards. She was technically a guest as well, but surely there should have been a servant here or something then? But since his majesty himself did not seem to mind, or even think about it, judging by how naturally it was occurring, who was she to complain. She preferred cold drinks over tea, but she wouldn’t refuse a cup served to her, especially from her host (who was also her emperor and god, but with a casual mood like this, those details suddenly seemed eager to slip from her mind). She was used to the nobles she had met to be so uptight and formal, but the emperor himself seemed… interesting. “I just wanted a heads-up if she had found someone new who she can’t avoid working with and needs to complain about.”

Rex Lapis let out a smooth, little laugh. “I would certainly hope that will not be the case.” He paused pouring tea to his own cup and glanced towards the door, hearing something she didn’t. “It seems we do not have to wait for long,” he said, taking the third readied teacup closer as well to pour another serving. Moments later, Beidou too heard steps coming towards their door, soon followed by a knock.

“Rex Lapis. We meet again,” Ningguang greeted warmly as she came in, before turning her eyes on Beidou. “And welcome back to Liyue, captain Beidou.” After short return greetings had been exchanged, she continued. “It seems I am the last to arrive. I apologize for making you wait, your majesty. I was handling a matter I simply could not leave unfinished.”

“That is quite alright,” Rex Lapis assured, setting Beidou’s teacup in front of the captain on the table. “I am aware this arrangement was sudden, so I must thank you for making time for me. We have not waited long.”

Ningguang raised her eyebrows at his actions and then glanced at Beidou, folding her arms. “Captain, please tell me you did not sit down on that seat expecting to be served?”

Rex Lapis winced, halting his attempt to pick up the second cup, and closed his eyes. “I should not be doing this, should I?”

Oh so he really hadn’t even realised. Beidou was liking him more and more.

Ningguang chuckled and came closer. “In your case, your majesty, no one has the authority to tell you ‘no’ on this kind of thing,” she noted, offering her hand towards her cup, giving him a chance to do as he felt was right. “So do whatever makes you comfortable.”

Rex Lapis averted both of their gazes, looking genuinely embarrassed now. But when Ningguang reached down towards the teacup, he ended up stopping her and picking it up, offering it to her nonetheless. Beidou was frankly fascinated by the exchange. Ningguang smiled, in a way Beidou knew meant that she was enjoying herself, and took her tea over to the side table, sitting down on one of the more comfortable chairs. Rex Lapis seemed a little uncertain what to do himself and ended up taking his own cup with him as he walked to stand by the bookshelf on the back of the room, instead of sitting down.

“So then, captain,” Ningguang started the conversation now that the tea had been served. “I must say I appreciate Rex Lapis’ fast response to your return. What news do you bring us from beyond the stormy seas? Am I correct in assuming you reached Inazuma?”

“Of course we did,” Beidou replied, helping herself to a fried pastry on the table, taking little bites out of it here and there as she spoke. “Although, I’ll admit I would like to say it was easy, but it wasn’t, even when we fully prepared the second time. That was one of the worst storms I’ve ever encountered. Constant lightning and rain, bad visibility, cross currents, high waves: throw in a whirlpool or two and it’s all you could want for a terrible time at sea. But we all know not everything is smooth sailing in this field of work. So nothing my crew and ship couldn’t handle.”

“Everyone who left made it back then?” Rex Lapis asked, looking up from his teacup he was running his fingers against instead of taking a sip.

Beidou nodded. “You bet. We actually came back with a new recruit even, who needed some time out of Inazuma.” Ningguang squinted at her, unamused, and Beidou dismissed a coming complaint with a wave of her hand. “I’ll introduce you later and he can tell you more himself, if he feels like it. In any case, that is not what you wanted me to report, yeah?”

“What is the situation in Inazuma?” Rex Lapis asked now as well, urging for an answer. “Why has the nation been cut off from the world?”

Beidou sighed. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can tell you, but why I couldn’t learn much should make for interesting information as well. Inazuma has enacted a total seclusion policy. No one is to leave the country or come in. They did not expect us to make through the storm, so our case was a bit peculiar. Let me tell you, if I did not have Ningguang’s letter with me, we would have been arrested. All outlanders have been gathered and segregated from the rest of the populace to one small island. That was where we were directed as well and told to wait while our message was delivered. So, sorry but: we could not personally meet with anyone high up in the government to ask questions.”

She took a break to drink down a good gulp of her tea, taking that as a chance to try and read into the expression of the two leaders. Ningguang she knew well enough to know approximately what she was thinking: that was the face she made when there were too many things going on in her head at once. So, she was probably trying to make a million and one connections of what this piece of news meant for things like trade, tourism, international relations and intelligence gathering. Knowing Ningguang, she’d sort it out quickly to some sort of order of importance and relevance and then complain about headaches and grey hairs for the next at least six times they’d meetup. Rex Lapis on the other hand, had a deep frown on his face and distant look in his eyes. He seemed to have now completely forgotten to drink his tea. Beidou wondered what was going on in his head.

“The only person we met with some sort of high standing among the people close to the Shogun, was a general of hers that came to meet us to respond to the message. A pretty strict lady in full military mode,” Beidou continued when neither of the other two took that little break to comment. “I’m not sure your letter reached Raiden Shogun, however. The response was basically that we were free to leave, but asked to not come back unless the message was urgent and from either Rex Lapis or the Tianquan herself. The people in Ritou –that’s the area we were told to stay at– only consisted of outlanders, who knew about as little as we, and the shogun’s men who were guarding the place, who refused to tell us anything. There were some local officials, but getting to talk to them was behind an absolutely nonsense bureaucracy chain that was made to not work properly. I don’t think we would have gotten very far trying to get through it.”

“You know not then, why this sudden segregation came to be, or why the storm veil was raised?” Rex Lapis asked, turning to look at her.

Beidou shook her head. “I wouldn’t say I have no information, but I should warn you that these are just rumours,” she warned and whirled her empty teacup around on top of her palm. “From what people had seen or heard, something happened in the capital, following which the storm was raised instantly and the gathering of the outlanders started without a warning, from tourists, to researchers, to even people who had Inazuman spouses. As to what actually happened in the capital, word-to-mouth was that sometime during a night, a red mist had spread across the streets, enveloping everything. Everyone in the city reportedly went some kind of crazy in response, until the mist was cleared. Where the mist came from or how it disappeared: everyone seemed to have their own theories, from some evil lord’s experiments to yokai pranks to some other god some people in Inazuma seem to worship to this day.”

“Red mist…” Rex Lapis mumbled into his hand, his brows furrowed ever deeper.

Ningguang looked at him from the corner of her eyes. “Do you happen to have some information or theory of your own about it, your majesty?”

The emperor did not respond immediately, but some kind of a furious thought process was clearly going on in his head. “Not off the top of my head, no,” he finally replied, still mumbling a little behind his hand, eyes looking somewhere beyond the walls of the room.

Ningguang’s eyes thinned a little, a look of deep thought returning to her face. She had undoubtedly hoped there would’ve been an easy answer. “What else can you tell us, captain?” She turned back to look at Beidou who had taken a chance to try another snack from the table.

“Not much,” Beidou admitted with a sigh and took a savoury bite of this dish she couldn’t remember the name of. “Let me tell you the few weeks we spent in that nation this time around were one of the most boring and frustrating times I’ve experienced on a voyage. We could have taken some less permissible measures to get around, sure, but since we were there as the Tianquan’s special envoy, that was sort of out of the question this time around.”

Ningguang huffed, slightly rolling her eyes. “I appreciate your professionalism, captain. ‘This time around’, truly? Would it kill you to keep in mind the paperwork I have to do and hoops I have to jump through whenever you do something outlandish and someone sends a complaint to the ministry of foreign affairs when they cannot reach you directly?”

“Hey, at least I kept your pretty desk clean this time around on that account,” Beidou quipped, scoffing. “Don’t go into the lecture mode now of all times.”

“On that account?” Ningguang’s eyes thinned further.

Beidou grinned. “You hired us directly this time, so the ship repairs and salary are on you, remember? I’ll hold you to your word on that.”

Suddenly, a sound of shattering porcelain silenced their banter and both turned towards the back of the room. Rex Lapis’ stance had faltered and he took a staggering step to keep his balance. The previously full teacup lay shattered at his feet, tea seeping into the floorboards. The fingers that had been absentmindedly rubbing his chin in thought were now splayed over his face, a pair of widened eyes staring into the floor from between them.

Ningguang set down her teacup and was on her feet in a heartbeat. “Rex Lapis?” When he did not reply, instead simply standing there frozen as he was, she made her way over to him with brisk steps. Beidou stood up as well. “Your majesty,” Ningguang called, coming to stand in front of him. “Are you unwell?”

She reached her hand forward to touch him, but seeing her enter directly into his field of vision seemed to startle the emperor out of his what seemed like shock. He blinked, straightening slightly, and his hand dropped down from his face to look up at Ningguang in surprise, like he had not realised her coming closer. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself, looking like he finally caught with what had happened and his eyes fell down to the floor on the broken teacup and the mess it had made.

“Ah… I… oh no…” he stuttered, at a loss for what to say, clearly disorientated. He reached down his hand towards the biggest remaining porcelain shard, taking a step back and knees bending to start cleaning it up. But then he stopped, abrupt and hesitant. He stood back up quickly, a grimace on his face and a hand covered his eyes again as he turned away and mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

Ningguang caught his forearm in her hand, bringing his attention to herself. “Rex Lapis, what is wrong? Talk to me.”

But Rex Lapis shook his head. “Nothing… It’s… nothing, I… I’m sorry. I made a mess.”

Ningguang’s hold of his arm tightened. “A cup of spilled tea is hardly what troubles me at the moment,” she said, gazing at him with piercing eyes, trying to see answers within the mystery that was this man. “Look me in the eyes, your majesty, and tell me what troubles you. Are you unwell? Do I need to call someone?”

“No,” Rex Lapis said quickly, but there was a clear mix of uncertainty and distress on his features, although he tried to regain some semblance of composure as he spoke. “No, please, I am fine. Truly. Just…” He struggled for a second, looking for words, before ultimately giving up and sighing. “Nothing,” he said, freeing his arm from Ningguang’s hold. “I… I need to go. I’m sorry. I cannot explain. Just, please, do not worry yourself. I’m okay.”

That’s all he ever says. A frown from earlier this meeting returned on Beidou’s face. Before she could think of anything to say, Rex Lapis looked up at her.

“Captain Beidou, I’m sorry to ask this of you so soon after your return home, but I must ask you to make another trip to Inazuma,” he said and a shadow of a frown darkened his face as his gaze sharpened. “This time I will have an adeptus accompany you and it is my message you will have to deliver. I apologize. But I must get into contact with the Electro Archon and gain more detailed information as to what has happened in Inazuma. I am… not asking you to leave immediately, of course. You and your crew deserve a break. But this matter is important, so I must ask you to be prepared to make this trip again.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Beidou assured, a little more subdued compared to her usual mood, as she spent time studying the emperor’s expressions and body language while talking. She could tell that Ningguang was doing the same. Neither of them was buying the emperor’s words that nothing was wrong. Because something was very clearly wrong. And the gaze he was giving her now was very different from the ones she had so far seen. “Just give us a couple of days to resupply, wind down and fix some damages on the ship.”

“Can the adepti not enter on your orders much faster than a ship can sail?” Ningguang asked.

Rex Lapis shook his head. “The storm veil interferes with teleportation and other similar ways of travel. The adepti would have to cross the barrier manually, most feasibly by flying. Such a thing is not easy nor safe in an archon made thunderstorm. They would undoubtedly do it, if I were to ask, but the risks are high. If the captain is willing, I would have them help my messenger breach the barrier, so that they can travel the rest of the way.”

“I can do it,” Beidou assured.

Rex Lapis sighed. “Knowing them, they likely see this as an unnecessary step. But I do believe in the Crux Fleet and captain Beidou’s abilities to make the trip much safer than a lone flying adeptus can. You have my gratitude. Gaining more information is of great importance.” He shook his head again. “Now, please excuse me, but I simply must go.” He took a few fast steps past Ningguang, only to walk straight over the teacup shards, causing them to roll and crunch under his feet. He stopped and glanced down at them with a grimace. “I… I’ll send someone to clean this up. Please, use this room as long as you require,” he added, before continuing on his way.

The door opened and closed on the two women without another glance in their way.

A long moment of silence spread into every corner of the room after his departure. Both Beidou and Ningguang simply stood there, listening to the sound of footsteps getting more and more distant, until disappearing completely. Beidou listened to the silence, watching how Ningguang drifted off into her thoughts. Unpleasant ones, by the looks of things. And she herself? She was starting to think that perhaps that problem she had perceived earlier was two-sided after all.

Breaking the silence before it stretched any longer, Beidou sighed and heavily sat back down into her chair. “So,” she started, crossing her legs and giving Ningguang a Look. “Care to fill me in what all has happened here?” It was Ningguang who sighed now, rubbing little circles with her fingers against her forehead. When she made no move to reply after a few seconds, Beidou continued, glancing towards the door again. “Do you think he’s actually okay?” She reminded herself to talk with Ningguang about what she had witnessed coming here.

“He has to be,” Ningguang said now, walking over to the table, only to continue pacing past it. “He needs to.”

Beidou raised her eyebrows. It took a lot to get Ningguang this stressed. “I don’t remember you being emperor-dependant. Did things get really bad then?”

Ningguang shot Beidou a short glare, before turning away and running her long decorative nails through her hair as a sign of agitation. “It was worse. We waited for nearly a week, hoping every day that he would survive. If he hadn’t, I don’t think it would have been within my skills to salvage our relations with the adepti. Things are much better now that he is here and the Ascension has finally been finished. But many things have happened that yet fester under the surface for all of us. We presently stand at a point where we’ve finally regained even footing after a long period of staggering. But having come so close to the edge, not everything can simply be reversed and left behind like it didn’t happen. Even just one little thing can cause a landslide, before we can stop it. If something happens to him now, I don’t know what will happen.”

Beidou frowned and set her foot back on the floor next to the other. Don’t tell me this is actually a three-sided problem… If we have all our leaders keeping up appearances with each other without telling how they truly feel, where will that lead? “You really must tell what is going in here. Sit down. You look like you need a breather.”

Ningguang deflated slightly, relaxing and acquiesced, sitting on the seat Rex Lapis had previously used. “I hope you weren’t in a hurry to return to your ship tonight.”

“No.” Beidou shook her head. “Of course there are things that must be done, but the crew’s got it covered and I don’t want to go another second not knowing what we have missed. Besides, you look like you’ve been through enough to deserve a friend’s ear to listen what’s on your mind.”

Settling against the backrest, Ningguang closed her eyes for a moment. “’Been through enough’… Hah… What a nice way to put it. And he likely had it worse than me.”

Beidou looked on quietly as Ningguang seemed to pick herself back up and her curiosity got the better of her. “How is he, our new emperor? From your point of view, I mean. Do you think you can get along?”

Ningguang took a deep breath. “He is an interesting man. I have not known him for long, but so far, he appears to be intelligent and responsible. Resourceful as well and greatly knowledgeable in wide array of topics. Had he caught my eye before he became the divine vessel, he could have made an excellent pawn. Really, I don’t perceive any major problems working with him, personally.”

“So you’re not planning to make him your pawn anymore then?” Beidou jabbed a little, jokingly, bringing a little smile to Ningguang’s lips.

“Please: you don’t make a pawn out of your king. That is losing battle before the game even starts,” she hummed, then giving Beidou a knowing look. “Besides, although you’ve only seen him in quite a casual setting today, I can assure you he is carries quite the presence when he wants to. Or perhaps…” She huffed a little laugh. “…he in fact doesn’t even realise it. I am yet to learn to read him effectively, so I do not know how much of him is a ruse or an act and where exactly does the core of the gem really shine through. It would be a shame to delegate a bright gem to a mere decoration to catch some eyes.” Her eyes sought the shattered teacup on the floor, thoughtful but downcast. “I just wish we’ll get to see at least a glimpse of what he could accomplish in peaceful times, despite of this ongoing turmoil.”

“You don’t think he can handle a crisis?”

“No,” Ningguang corrected her, shaking her head. “He likely can and I am prepared to help him with it. But…” She paused, thinking back to the times she had spent with Rex Lapis so far. “I fear he is too kind for a game of wolves. His is the type to hold himself personally responsible for the hardships of others. In this time where something new and alarming seems to come to light every other day, it is only the matter of time before something needs to be let go for the greater good. When there is a need for sacrifices to be made, I do not doubt his ability to make decisions, I merely fear he might come out of them a changed man. I find myself not wanting to witness such a loss.”

.

Closing the door and leaving the Tianquan and the captain behind, Zhongli hastened his steps down the hall. The weight of silence in his mind was pressing on his head like cast iron crown. It was so hard to focus on anything but that weight that he did not even watch where his feet lead him. He just needed to get… somewhere. A place that was safe. Where no one would disturb him. Where… Focus! he shouted at himself, grimacing at his own stupidity. Why was he even walking? He knew that three of the yaksha were trailing after him, alerted by his hasty retreat from the meeting.

“Xiao,” he called out, deciding to at least try and use the resources at his disposal. But although his steps slowed down a little, he could not bring himself to stop. Xiao was next to him and hurrying after his steps as soon as he was called. “Take me to the third level,” Zhongli ordered, trying to think straight despite the weight on his head. “Just… somewhere.” Oh, the absolute elegance he was managing at the moment. “Any place with a chair will do.”

Xiao was confused and Zhongli could tell. But nevertheless, without a question or hesitation, he could feel a hand on his shoulder, followed by a brush of wind against his skin.

He managed to stop his feet for long enough to assess where Xiao had brought them. It was one of the studies that opened to the inner garden. A quiet and relaxing place for both work and leisure, with a comfortable chair near the bookshelf that covered one of the walls.

“Thank you,” Zhongli breathed, trying to calm down and left Xiao to stand by the calligraphy table that would have given him a view of the garden while working had the sliding doors been opened. This room was comfortable space, where important things often got done. Those memories from previous emperors helped him relax, if only a little, as he sat down to the chair. “Stay here,” he asked Xiao before closing his eyes. “I might need you later.”

And with that, the room disappeared from around him. He swam down into the depths of his mind, through darkness that offered the modicum of resistance he was already used to, until it opened up to the centre of his consciousness. When he opened his eyes again, he was in the familiar, lightly decorated room, with the scenery outside once again set to night. The light in the room was dimmer than usual but brightened on his arrival as he focused on his surroundings and chased away the lingering resistance.

His breathing quickened as the form lying still on the floor finally entered his vision. “Morax!”

With a couple of running steps, he was already down on his knees on the floor, his hands reaching to lift and support the god’s head up from the floor. Morax’s hood slipped a little of its usual position as Zhongli manoeuvred his head to rest against his forearm. His body felt so heavy…

“Morax?” Zhongli called out again, his hand shivering against Morax’s shoulder. He had seen something like this once before and it was possibly even more terrifying now than back then. “Morax! Wake up. Please.”

To his relief, the god stirred: head flinching and eyes squeezing slightly tighter shut before Morax came to and opened his eyes. “…Oh,” the god muttered with a rough voice, hazy with sleep as their eyes met. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing: Morax, what happened?” Zhongli let out simultaneously with a sigh of relief as a huge lump of pressure in his chest was released and he felt like he could breathe again. “How could I not come and see what’s wrong if you return like this?”

Morax frowned, trying to force his eyes to stay open, but they kept blinking close. “Ah, of course… You feel it now, unlike last time. My bad…” He shook his head. “I’ve told you. It takes a lot out of me to do things on my own.”

“Even now? After the Ascension?”

Morax grunted, nodding and his eyes closed. “Alone… is alone,” he explained, drowsy, but soldiering on to ease Zhongli’s worries. “The Ascension only changes how fast I can recover and slightly increases what I can do.”

“Did finding the tree take this much out of you?” Zhongli asked, lifting Morax up enough support him against his leg as well. “Please do not scare me like that again. You should have told me it was that difficult and I would have helped you.”

“That is why I didn’t ask: you had other things to do today,” Morax grumbled. “And no, finding the tree was not the difficult part, finding her was. Irminsul is… not the most organized. And I had to dodge some prying eyes when coming back. Those fools still seem to have their eye out for me.”

Zhongli stiffened and his hand gripped tighter on Morax’s shoulder. “There was someone out there looking for you?”

“It wasn’t a person, more like a beacon detecting movement around the palace’s barrier. I think I managed to dodge them all.”

“How have they managed to set those up so close with all the adepti wards in place?” He’d have to talk with the yaksha.

“I don’t know… But they were not too… accurate, lucky for me,” Morax’s speech garbled up a little as he almost nodded off, before shaking himself awake and forcing his eyes open again to peek up at Zhongli. “How was… your day then? Did things go well… with the Qixing?”

Zhongli sighed. “Is that truly important right now? What happened to you is—”

“It is important to me,” Morax reiterated, trying to shift a little but his arms and legs lacked the strength so he gave up. “I can tell you about my adventures when I’m… more awake. Did you go see the people? How…” he trailed off as he realised that Zhongli’s memories of the day conflicted with their initial plans. “Wait…”

“I didn’t go,” Zhongli admitted, accepting for the tired glare Morax sent up at him. “You had looked forward to it almost as much as me. I wanted you to be there for it,” he admitted, sheepishly.

Morax tried to scoff, but with his current energy levels, it lacked his usual edge and ended up turning into a displeased grunt. “I can accompany you any other time just as well. The coronation festival is something you can only experience once, you know.”

“There is tomorrow.”

“The majority of the activity will be over by tomorrow. Isn’t it getting late? Leave me to sleep and go already. You’ll run out of time.”

Zhongli looked away. He wanted to. He had thought about it while waiting for Beidou and Ningguang. He wanted to. Wanted to witness the decorations on the streets against the sea of people. Browse the stalls and see performances people had come up with. Taste what someone’s grandmother had cooked up for the occasion and hear the tales that the storytellers would bring to life. But he also knew that as he was now, that would not be possible.

He could not enjoy the festival atmosphere with the people of Liyue, because the second he’d show up, their merriment would pause. He could perhaps watch the performances, browse items on display and try foods from the selection on sale, but instead of clapping along to a talent of an artist or joking amongst themselves over a silly thing, all their attention would be on him. Watch his every movement, wondering if he liked a food, was interested in an item or appreciated the performance. So as much as he wanted to experience the festival, he knew he could not. Not like he wished. He wasn’t sure he would even enjoy experiencing the event like that. Wearing a disguise might have perhaps worked, but that would have defeated the purpose of meeting the people as Rex Lapis. In other words, the day being special was really not a requirement: it was a hindrance. So he had come to a decision, to let the people enjoy this special time amongst themselves.

“The festival isn’t the important part of that endeavour. The people are,” Zhongli explained and focused his mind to try and manifest a mat and a pillow for Morax to lie on. “The people will be there tomorrow.”

Morax did not look convinced. “This celebration is for you. Why should you not get to enjoy it?”

“I will,” Zhongli said and set the god down to let him rest finally. “I will find a way.”

“Dammit you, just go,” Morax growled, but it was a losing battle for him against both Zhongli and sleep at this point.

Zhongli knew he was being unfair. Morax would likely be mad about it later. With his exhaustion pressing against him from the other side, and Zhongli’s connected will tempting him to relax, Morax stood no chance against the joined coercion. Zhongli still felt the weight of the god’s exhaustion and the ensuing silence between their thoughts as Morax’s consciousness slipped into oblivion. When this had happened before, Zhongli had not been able to feel the god’s side of things. The sheer effort a formless being needed to maintain its shape, awareness and thought while working on a herculean task to begin with. The drag it created. It must have been the same back then. It seemed so long ago now. At least Morax’s rest seemed calmer this time.

When he was certain he was not needed, Zhongli closed his eyes again and willed his mind to rise towards the pull of his body. The trip was easier this way, like a magnet pulling him to the right direction. Still, he took care to do things properly without Morax’s assistance to avoid backlash.

When he opened his eyes and raised his head to look around the room, almost everything was exactly as he had left it. Including Xiao, who was standing right where Zhongli had left him, not having moved an inch. The only difference was the young qilin on her knees in front of his chair, who quit fiddling with her fingers as soon as she saw him come back.

“Rex Lapis!” Ganyu breathed out and flinched half way up. “Is everything alright? What happened so suddenly? I heard from Bonanus that you simply stormed out the meeting room and looked distressed. Did something happen you needed to consult lord Morax about directly?”

“It is nothing you must get so worried up about, Ganyu,” Zhongli promised and patted the adeptus on the shoulder, making her sit back on her heels. He looked up at Xiao. “There are beacons hidden around the palace’s barrier, meant to detect Morax’s movements. They’ve somehow bypassed our defences.” Xiao’s eyes widened and Zhongli could see his jaw tightening as he bit his teeth together. “There should be at least six of them, unevenly spread and moving,” he added, fishing for the bits of information he could read from Morax’s memory, but with the god asleep, his access was limited without risking waking him up.

“We will find them and see them disposed,” Xiao grunted and disappeared.

“How is that not something I should be worried about, Rex Lapis?” Ganyu demanded, sounding a little hurt.

Zhongli shook his head. “Because you worrying about it will not do anyone any good,” he explained. “The matters of defence belong to yaksha and I trust them to protect us. You should trust them as well and focus on your own duties. You are my secretary, who has been overworking recently. You’ve been losing sleep, no? I told you to take some time off for the rest of today. Why have you come to me?”

Ganyu glanced towards the sliding doors and the orange tinted light that filtered through the paper screens. “I know you told me to take a break, but… It is getting late and I… I promised to make sure you’d enjoy the festival today. I came to check that you wouldn’t forget.”

Zhongli averted her gaze as it returned to him, feeling guilty when he shook his head. “I haven’t forgotten, but…. I’m sorry. As things stand, I would not enjoy it.”

The shift Ganyu’s expression was hard to witness. “Rex Lapis!” she pleaded, no doubt trying to come up with the right words to dissuade him, but unfortunately for her, he had made his choice.

“Ganyu, Morax has returned,” Zhongli explained patiently. “He is alright, but currently very tired for working on his own without the aid of a vessel. His exhaustion in turn weighs on me. I’m afraid I have to accommodate him for a while. A few people aside, going out in front of a large crowd would be counterproductive and disturb his rest. I am his vessel, so aiding him now when earlier I could not, is the least I can do.”

Ganyu’s hands shivered. “How is this not something I should get worried about?”

Zhongli smiled and reached forward to pat her on the shoulder, reassuringly. “Because things are under control and nothing bad has happened. I just do not think checking on the festival is the right call at this moment. I know you had your promises, but you did your best to keep them and did nothing wrong. We could not have foreseen this development.”

Ganyu gave in, but Zhongli could see the bitterness of his decision weighing on her mind. He made certain to thank the qilin for looking out for him so earnestly again, before urging her to get back to her well-earned break.

When Ganyu wished him a goodnight and left, Zhongli was left alone. Moreso than usual these days with Morax recovering his strength. He sat still for a moment, letting his thoughts wonder back to the things he had heard from Beidou about Inazuma, before they had been interrupted. By him… He needed to apologise to both Ningguang and Beidou later. Which also reminded him: there was a mess he had made that needed to be cleaned up. But that all aside, the mysterious information about Inazuma and the knowledge that their opponents were still trying to track down Morax, both had his mind wandering with a deep frown on his face.

He looked at the sliding doors leading to the inner garden. Suddenly curious to test things, he reached out with his power and a golden glow enveloped the latch keeping the doors shut. With a little guiding twist of his fingers, the lock clicked and the latch opened, letting the door slide freely as Zhongli guided it aside. Clack. Clack. Clack. All four doors slid open along their paths, their edges hitting against one another as they intertwined, until the wall to the garden was folded up. The sun was setting. Had it truly been only one day?

Letting his power go and leaving the doors open for now, Zhongli turned his hand to look at his palm. He let the other form within him through to see the power that pulsed along his skin. Such an easy little manipulation as guiding a piece of metal to open a door for him… It would never work on their enemies. He could never protect Morax with little tricks like that. He needed to get stronger. Dismissing his glowing hands, he squeezed his fingers tightly into a fist, trying to feel the power within. He was now the protector of Liyue and there were enemies out there who sought to disrupt the peace. Learning to navigate his way through the politics and commerce was not enough. If he wanted to do his duty, this was not enough. He would have to live up to the task set for him, or it wasn’t a random client or a Funeral Parlor who’d have to suffer for his mistakes. It was the whole of Liyue. The people who now looked up to him. He could not appear before them and show weakness. He would only shatter their hopes.

He leant his head back against the chair, only to feel two little bumps against his head. He had forgotten he had the horns out as well. Dismissing them as well, he felt his hair settle to its natural courses and closed his eyes, taking some time to calculate his options. After a short while alone, the pressure of lightning, crackling above, alerted him to a presence of another, a moment before Bosacius appeared before him.

“My lord,” the yaksha marshal said, dropping on one knee to bow his head down. “Alatus has informed us that our enemies have managed to somehow bypass our defences. My regret on letting this happen on my watch is immense. I cannot apologise to you enough to make up for this mistake that has brought risk to your and the city’s security. I swear, that I Bosacius as well as my siblings, shall endeavour to find each of these beacons your majesty has mentioned, as well as check all our existing wards and defences to find any others. This will not happen again. I realise that this risk coming to light through my lord himself is yet a further disgrace for us. We do not deserve nor ask for your forgiveness or patience.”

Zhongli held back a need to sigh and leant his head against his fingers. “Bosacius, please. I am the commander of the army and in charge of the defence of the country as much as you. That at least one of us noticed, is what’s most important here. I will trust you to find the beacons.”

Bosacius bowed his head down. “It shall be done, your majesty.”

“Before that,” Zhongli stopped the yaksha from leaving. Watching this old and strong adeptus, who was the leader of the entire army, deferring himself to him, still made him rather uncomfortable. Even if he was getting somewhat used to it, for how insistent the habit was among the adepti. Bosacius made a short response to tell that he was attentively listening and Zhongli took a deep breath. Well: it had just turned out that he had a free evening. With what he had just decided he needed to do, this would be two birds with one stone. What Beidou had told him earlier was bothering him as well… Time to get this out of the way. “Please call up your siblings and gather the Five here to see me. I think it is time we had a talk.”

Chapter Text

When Bosacius arrived before his brothers and sisters, in the same room where the war council had been held weeks prior, the other yaksha had gathered around a map of Harbor and were discussing amongst themselves about the different possibilities how the enemy beacons had slipped their notice. Other than his siblings, the only other yaksha present was Niú, which Bosacius took as a sign that the rest were already out on patrol around the palace looking for leads.

“Brother Bosacius,” Indarias said, as soon as his teleportation finished, and proceeded to confirm his guess. “We sent out patrols to do a selective scour of the perimeter, with each pair focusing on different type of the possible anomalies, and sent Lichas and Mau to check the wards from the inside. We were thinking if you could—”

“That can wait,” Bosacius stopped her, causing everyone to frown at him.

“Wait?” Xiao repeated, confused. They had just found out that the palace’s defences were compromised by a dangerous enemy. “What could possibly be more important than—”

“Rex Lapis calls us,” Bosacius shared the summons with them, effectively chasing away their frowns. Everyone in the room either straightened their backs or stilled as they were. Bosacius shared a look of each of his siblings, knowingly, before looking at Niú. “Captain Felizatus, you’re in charge until we return.”

Niú’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?” Catching himself, he quickly shook his head. “I mean: yes sir. Leave it to me.”

Bosacius nodded. “Keep up the investigations and monitor the results.” He then looked from one of the other Five to the next. “Come. Let us not keep him waiting.”

Bonanus looked down at the map on the table, her shoulders drooping. “This was the last straw then, wasn’t it?” she asked, downtrodden. They had all known this day would come sooner or later.

“He told me he wasn’t mad with us, remember,” Indarias tried to cheer her up.

“Mad and disappointed are two very different things, sister,” Menogias commented and rubbed Bonanus’ back. “Rex Lapis has been benevolently patient with us, but whether he personally blames us or not, which he by all accounts should, we have failed to adhere to our vows and violated the terms of our contracts. These are irrefutable facts and as the proxy of lord Morax, he is obligated to address them.”

“Still!” Indarias tried. “Surely, he wouldn’t have us leave or anything. …He wouldn’t, right?”

Bosacius hummed, crossing his arms. “Rex Lapis did say he would leave the beacons to us, so I doubt he intends to dismiss us entirely. But that does not change that we have a duty to answer for the mistakes we have made. And with how kind-hearted this incarnation of Rex Lapis has proven himself to be, it will likely fall on us to make him understand this. He is our lord and our duty is to him: when mistakes we have made bring him to harm, that is an unforgivable violation. What we have done cannot be bypassed without consequences. We’ve been through this,” he reminded strictly, to Indarias specifically.

“I know, I know,” Indarias assured, taking a deep breath and heaving it out. “Let’s go.” She gestured to all her sibling to travel together, but raised her eyebrows when Xiao turned away instead. “Alatus?”

“Go on ahead,” Xiao said, voice slightly rougher than usual. “I need to drop by the armoury.”

“Ah, of course,” Bosacius remembered as well and shook his head. “We will wait for you. Meet us at the Eastern tower, once you’ve retrieved the polearm. I promised you that we would face Rex Lapis together and even after everything that has happened since, we will all be in this together.”

“Until the end,” Menogias said, patting Xiao on the shoulder.

The younger yaksha only huffed a little in response, but nodded, disappearing. The next moment, only Niú was left in the planning room, standing alone by the map and silently praying for the fortune of the Five. It might have been them who bore the front of the responsibility, but it was all of them who would be affected by the results.

While the Five were steeling themselves for judgement, Zhongli was waiting for them in the cozy, evening sun lit study and groaning for an entirely different reason. As soon as Bosacius had left to fetch his siblings, Zhongli had realised his severe miscalculation in instigating this important talk now of all times. Namely, he managed to remind himself that Morax was asleep. The not-even-arguably better expert of the two of them on human-adepti-god relations was currently unaccounted for, meaning Zhongli was going to have to do this all on his own.

“For archon’s sake…” he sighed behind his palm. Was it alright for him to still say that? His eyebrows knitted together as he readied himself to suffer the consequences of his stupid impulses. Morax had promised to help him navigate the delicate situation and communicate with each yaksha. But as things stood, even excessive probing into the memories about the yaksha might lead him into waking the tired god up. Even if he didn’t wish the other to get his much-needed rest, heavens forbid if he was going to have to deal with a grumpy Morax on top of everything else.

Nevertheless, he straightened his posture and tried to look like he knew what he was doing. It wasn’t like he could tell the yaksha “never mind, let’s do this another time” directly after summoning them. Alone or not, he should at least try to do the best he could. He occupied himself with turning his chair to better face the entire room, partly to stop himself from sighing again. Perhaps he should have picked a better room for this; one with a larger table and chairs for each of them. But even if he suggested the change of scenery, the yaksha would probably stay standing or worse yet kneel even if there was an option to sit. Zhongli had a feeling that if they were allowed to choose, the adepti would have him sit in the throne room on a much fancier chair than this, with all of them a few stone steps below. In that sense, perhaps this was alright…

Most likely he wouldn’t have to wait for long: a couple of precious minutes at most. Precious little time to figure out what to say. He and Morax had discussed the possible solutions but hadn’t actually come to any definitive conclusion. They had agreed to meet with the yaksha and hear what they had to say, then discuss the possibilities together with them. That had been Zhongli’s intention when asking Bosacius just now as well. But he had relied a little too much on the idea that Morax would be there to help out. That’s why, despite of his mind trying its best to make up for the lack of the god’s presence in the equation, he found his thoughts circling and head pounding empty. It was an unhelpful and frustrating combination.

“Why do I do this to myself…?” Zhongli groaned and leant his elbow on the armrest to once again hide his frown behind his palm. This was going to be a possible disaster if he screwed this up. These were yakshas. Thousands of years old adepti, who’s only connection to him was through a vow with a god who was now sound asleep inside his soul. Zhongli alone as the human in the mix was way out of his depth. Without Morax’s guidance, he very much felt almost like a normal human again. How did the previous emperors manage their new role and duties without direct contact with Morax was beyond him. These were among the people Morax treasured the most: how would he explain it to the god if he ended up making things worse?

Oh how he suddenly wished he could go back to the time when the worst possible social situation he had to deal with was an angry businessman who was fed up with Hu Tao’s marketing stunts…

A varying mixture of elements concentrated in the room, bringing with it a tension that Zhongli felt piling up in his chest like a constricting vice. They were here. He took a deep, slow breath in: he would listen to what they had to say and then do his utmost to try and make their interactions amiable again.

Morax’s foremost guardian adepti arrived in front of Rex Lapis in a neat row, their knees bending even before they had fully arrived. Five knees touched the floormats, followed by five fists that balanced their stances as their backs curved into a bow.

They saw their lord briefly before dipping their heads and Bonanus felt her heart sink a little at seeing how frustrated and disappointed Rex Lapis looked. He was sitting on his chair, leaning against his hand so that they couldn’t even see his eyes, one leg crossed over the other and tenseness all too readable in his body language. And then he sighed. Bonanus wished that Rex Lapis would have just been angry with them. She would have accepted and understood his ire. It would have been much easier for her to handle than having to watch the tired exasperation accumulate and turn into disappointment. Why couldn’t he just yell at them like he should have?!

“Your majesty,” Bosacius spoke as the elemental energies dissipated from around them. The left hand he hadn’t lowered to lean against the floor came to rest over his chest. “The five guardian yaksha have assembled, as per your order.”

“Thank you. And welcome,” Rex Lapis said as he straightened to lean against the backrest. “As quick as always.” He paused, closing his eyes for second, taking a slow breath in. “I assume you all know what it is we have to talk about?”

Bosacius nodded. “Yes, my lord. We five have failed in our duties to protect both yourself and the previous divine vessel. We are ready to hear and accept any judgement and punishment your majesty deems necessary.”

Rex Lapis looked over their kneeling forms with a frown on his face. “I’m afraid there has been a misunderstanding here. I did not summon you to pass judgement for your conduct. I have gathered you here so that we could talk. This continued sense of distance between us is… draining to me. I wish to hear your thoughts on all that has happened. Whether or not judgement will be passed afterward and what it would be, remains to be seen.”

Bosacius grunted a little and Menogias glanced in his direction when he heard the hint of frustration in his brother’s voice. They were all on the edge after everything, but had remained professional and kept their distance as agreed, with the slight exception of Indarias and to a lesser extent himself. Bosacius especially had hammered it into everyone’s heads that consequences could not be avoided and they needed to accept their due punishments with their heads help up high. Surely this, when things were finally being addressed, would not be the moment Bosacius let his own bottling up frustrations up on front?

“As always, our lord remains too forgiving,” Bosacius said and raised his head up to meet the emperor’s eyes. Had they been with almost any other emperor they had served; such notion would have been seen as defiance when facing charges for grievous offences. But this Rex Lapis had since the beginning had the tendency to fail to understand his own status and standing when addressing others. Archons, even hearing words like “thank you” and “please” from their lord’s mouth while communicating his wishes was outside the norm. And of all people, now this subtle, well-mannered young man who possessed terrifying levels of both aptitude to divine energy and instances of self-deprecation, was the person faced with the responsibility to charge the adepti for their worst failures in the history of imperial Liyue.

Ironically, it would fall on them as their god’s aides to guide him with it. The thought that if they simply downplayed their mistakes and appealed to their lord, Rex Lapis would likely forgive everything without a second thought, was reprehensible to Bosacius.

“You speak of it as a bad thing,” Rex Lapis noted and met the war marshal’s eyes without wavering. “Yet I do not view forgiveness as such, nor that there is something in particular for me to forgive. That is why I asked you here to talk. Explain to me: why do you keep distancing yourselves from me and so vehemently seek punishments I have made clear I do not wish to give?”

Something between a sigh and growl rose from Bosacius’s chest. “Then if my lord so permits, I shall speak my mind. We have failed in our duty and underperformed on the tasks given to us centuries past. These shortcomings have caused you and your predecessor an unforgivable amount of harm and discomfort, something we have been contracted to prevent. That you continue to act as if nothing requires your retaliation, is incomprehensible to us.”

“You did not wish for any of those things to happen and performed in unprecedented circumstances to the best of your abilities,” Rex Lapis countered sternly. “You also seem to forget all the things we did accomplished and in fact succeeded in, with your help. I fail to see how punishing you for the things you’ve listed is conducive to our efforts going forward.”

“Some mistakes are simply not allowed to happen!” Bosacius suddenly said much louder and the other for yaksha startled minutely and glanced in his direction in warning. An important matter concerning both their pride and duty or not, their brother needed to calm down.

Menogias did open his mouth to say something, but Bosacius continued before he could.

“We allowed a divine vessel to die. We are the protectors of this palace, yet we’ve allowed our enemies to sneak into the heart of Liyue, right under our noses. That alone is unforgivable in and of itself. And when we were supposed to then aid you with the same enemies, it was you who suffered, not any of us; be it from injuries, strain or neglect, until we were forced to watch yet another divine vessel struggle at the death’s door without being able to do anything to help! I speak for not only myself, but also many others and forgive my boldness in saying this. But frankly, my lord, that you say there is nothing you have to reprimand us for, is an insult to us.”

Rex Lapis’ already widened eyes blew even wider open. “What?”

“We are adepti,” Bosacius declared with a voice that carried a now tattered pride from thousands of years past. “The foremost pupils, soldiers and servants of the Lord of Geo himself. We do not fail, are not allowed to fail, with the tasks and expectations of our god. It is our pride and purpose to see that his will is done and his domain remains safe. We have never let him down as we have now. This entire debacle has been an insult to our abilities we should have been honing for thousands of years. That we could not handle a new threat against Liyue, only tells us that we had grown complacent. We adjusted to peace and let our guards down until it was too. Late! That you would pass such disgraces on our pride with nothing but dismissive comments, only tells us that is how low your expectations for our work have become.”

Rex Lapis looked at them, genuine shock plastered on his face, with the spark of understanding mixing in. “No…” he uttered and both of his feet were planted on the floor as he now leant forward as if to stand up. He gripped onto the armrests of the chair, so tightly his fingers shivered. “Dismissive… No. That is not what I ever meant to convey,” he said, sounding actually horrified.

 “Yet it is you who will not even acknowledge our mistakes! We failed in the duties we have carried out with pride for centuries and violated our sacred contracts. You are who we have failed, the one who has suffered the most, yet you claim nothing is wrong?”

Rex Lapis winced at his words. “I have nothing but utmost trust in your abilities,” he tried to say, but his words made the opposite impact of what he probably wished.

“We are not deserving of your kindness, Rex Lapis! Point out our flaws and put us in our place!”

“Bosacius, calm down, this instant,” Menogias hissed quietly now, his hand reaching out to catch his brother’s wrist to get his attention. But his attempt missed its mark, when Bosacius stood up from the floor now, filling the entire room with his sheer presence.

“We do not baselessly want your trust!” Bosacius stood tall before Rex Lapis who leant back on his chair again in surprise to the yaksha’s words and actions. “Some mistakes are not allowed to be made and to us, failing in our duties is a direct insult from us to the god we have sworn our everything to! You!”

“Brother!” Bonanus snapped, her voice desperate.

Her voice along with the hand Menogias had now snapped shut around his wrist, that half literally pulled back from his outburst and he realised how loud his voice had been rising and how his muscles flexed as he alone stood up in the room. Although he had spoken from the heart, it was in the stunned shock of all his siblings and the emperor, where he managed to identify how utterly he had lost his cool. Rex Lapis eyes were locked onto his own still and he could not bring himself to look away or move, not until tired greases formed on his lord’s face and it was him who broke their eye contact. After a long, silent moment, Rex Lapis’ gaze fell to the floor on the side and Bosacius was freed to breath again. Although, it did not feel like a freedom he deserved.

“My lord…” he muttered under his breath and knelt back down, pressing down all of his palms flat against the floor, and bend down into a bow until his forehead touched the mats below. “I’m so sorry. I do not know what came over me. I have lost control of myself most disgracefully. I directly challenged and raised my voice against you. This is not even the first time I have done so. I continue to act unbecoming of my station in your presence. Please, allow me to apologise.”

Rex Lapis’ face had found itself hiding behind his palm again, as their lord sagged back against the armrest. All they could see of his expression was the clenched jaw and lips pressed in a tight line. Bosacius remained unmoving in his bow to the ground and an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Xiao had flinched forward as Rex Lapis’ form faltered, but his reached-out hand clenched into a fist and retreated, and he sat back down on his heels. Menogias and Bonanus did not dare disturb the moment either, simply waiting in their positions where they had straightened their own bows when the situation had escalated.

“Rex Lapis?” Indarias braved the task of cutting through the silence and she moved to get up from her spot, stopping when Rex Lapis unexpectedly spoke up again.

“What do you expect me to do?” Rex Lapis asked them, quietly but not in whisper, sighing against his hand before looking back up at them. His eyes landed on Bosacius kneeling on the floor. “How do you expect me to find a suitable punishment, marshal Vritras?”

Bosacius craned his neck without fully getting up to look up at him in confusion. “My lord?”

“What do we even have listed out, if I am to punish you all for these offences you claim responsibility for? Failing to protect the emperor? Having troubles maintaining the peace of Liyue? Questionable investigation methods? Raising your voice against me?” Rex Lapis recited bits and pieces of their complaints and other matters. “Am I to forget all the times you have been there for me, in the favour of casting you out? Do you wish me to reveal to all of Liyue how the divine guardians have lost their way for the public to shame you? Or is it pain or death that you so seek?”

He sounded lost; tired because of his own questions. Menogias was reminded of the emperor’s reaction after confronting the imprisoned treasure hoarders. He also remembered his own promise he had later made about the issue. “…My lord,” he replied cautiously, before his siblings could. “It is true we do not wish to simply put this behind us without addressing it properly. But if—”

“I need you,” Rex Lapis stopped him and now it was the yakshas’ turn to be in shock for the raw emotions thrown at their faces. The emperor shook his head, his eyes shut tight. “The conflict we’re in is nowhere near solved. We just discovered that our enemies still lurk about, working towards whatever their goal is that we do not even know. The economy stands still at a brink of a depression. Half of the government needs to be rebuilt. Defences have to be reorganized.” Rex Lapis sighed in and out through his teeth, massaging his temples. “I do not understand what you want me to do. Imprisoning or sending you away is unwise at best when I need every person I can at my side. Causing you injuries or pain would only hinder your work. So would assigning you to some strenuous, extra labour that would keep you from your duties or have you tired out if a need arises. Demoting you and thus having to redesign the entire chain of command is not something I can afford to do when unknown threats lurk around us. Your deaths are the last thing I want to see.” Rex Lapis grimaced and looked up at them again, pleading. “Do you see? Punishing you is in and of itself an inconvenience to me.”

He closed his eyes again and let his head drop, minutely shaking it from side to side. The adepti remained quiet, unsure what to either say or do, but the silence was not long this time before Rex Lapis took a small but slow breath in and continued.

“But…” he said, stopping as if to gather his strength. “I understand now, what has been eating at you so. If I were in your position, I would be frustrated and mad at my own underperformance as well. I feel short-sighted, not seeing it more clearly from your point of view. Thus, I will not fault you for speaking your mind. …It is something that I needed to hear. And this point is non-negotiable, Bosacius. Please get up from the floor.” He watched as the yaksha marshal quickly pushed himself up to sit on his knees. But when Bosacius opened his mouth to speak, Rex Lapis raised his hand to signal that he wasn’t done talking. “If it will bring you peace of mind and clarity to be reprimanded for your mistakes, I… will think of something. Just… just give me some time.”

Tiredness had crept back into his voice again, unrestrained. Rex Lapis grimaced at the floor and stood up, causing the yaksha to quickly fall more into attention. But instead of addressing them, Rex Lapis walked to the edge of the room that opened up to the garden, where the sliding doors had been folded up out of the way. Without stopping, he stepped past the threshold and down on to the pathway of sand beyond it.

“Again, I will… leave the tracking down of the beacons in your care,” he said and his hand reached out towards the sliding doors at the other end of the room from him. Power concentrated around his hand. “I…” The yaksha could not see his expression from this angle, only the tensing of his shoulders. “I will call for you. …When I am done.”

His fingers flexed against the air, as if to wrap around something and the lock on the sliding door answered his call, rattling in place until he used his hand to pull all four of the doors closed behind him, perhaps a little louder and rougher than he had intended, separating himself from the yaksha.

As soon as he had even a perceived moment of solitude with this singular screen, Zhongli felt himself sag down and he had to stop himself from moaning his feelings out loud by running all ten fingers through his hair. The yakshas were still in the room behind him, despite his childish escape, most likely confused and no less stressed than they had been. Much less were they probably feeling any closer to him, like Zhongli had wished to accomplish. He felt so stupid… He had tried to be a better and bigger person and not hold grudges or mistakes above the adepti’s heads like blades. As it turned out, he had been completely wrong in that approach. How had he managed to downplay the situation in their eyes so badly they thought he did not even care? That he was dismissive?

He walked away from the now closed paper screens as he heard movement behind them, in a futile attempt to get away enough to groan out load. His legs felt wobbly and he settled onto a rock instead of making his way to a chair at either of the two pavilions, feeling this was as far as he could will himself to go. The warmth of the sun-baked stone underneath him, now slowly cooling as the sun set, felt comforting to him. He pulled one of his knees up to lean his elbow and head against it, while his other hand continued to brush and pull at his hair. What good would it be to wallow in his own misery like this? "Pull yourself together…"

He had not made things any better but at least he now had more information. He understood what Bosacius had said, and why it meant so much to the adepti. He should have understood it on his own: surely there had been signs. And even if there hadn’t, it should have at least crossed his mind that the adepti would see things so differently from him. How had he once prided himself on customer service skills when he was now so blind to the issues and completely at a loss on how to deal with them? Was it just that the best comparison for him and the best alternative for the customers had been Hu Tao? No, surely he had at least some experience, just not… just not… this.

This all was so much… Zhongli groaned aloud now, sensing that the adepti had left, leaving him a little more alone. Although, someone like Xiao could likely hear him sigh half the country away if he wanted. When was the last time he had been the cause of this type of conflict? He always avoided them to the best of his ability, exactly because he did not like nor was he good at dealing with them. He always felt awful for a long time after, even after things were solved. It had been a long time since this had happened to him. Or perhaps his minor falling out with Hu Tao about his resignation counted. Seeing other people be so disappointed and feeling betrayed because of him always left him feeling nauseous. At least this time it had been overshadowed enough by other emotions to have kept him from looking like he’d get emotional to the point of physical reaction just for being shouted at. Which wasn’t technically untrue, but it wasn’t the shouting that made it uncomfortable. He was actually fairly good at taking criticism and loud noises did not usually disturb him, as long as he wasn’t trying to work on something right at that moment, but that was more irritation. But in this case, it was more of the realisation that he was the cause of the shouting and the argument that made him uncomfortable. And by probing, he had managed to tip the scales from their uncomfortable standstill, to something much, much more miserable.

<I don’t think that went as badly as you think.>

Zhongli startled in surprise at hearing Morax mutter at the back of his head. “You were awake?”

Morax yawned. <Did you expect me to sleep through that racket?>

“Oh…” Of course not. “I’m sorry. I meant to give you some quiet. It… did not go as planned.”

<The night is coming up. That’ll do nicely for a longer rest,> Morax noted, but he sounded like he was about to fall back asleep any moment now. <But I really think you should stop thinking that you did something inherently wrong there.>

Zhongli sighed and rested his chin against the nook of his elbow. “How do you figure?”

<Both parties gained some valuable insight that needed to be shared. Granted, the sharing could have been done a little more cordially.>

Zhongli shook his head once. “Bosacius clearly needed to get that out of his chest.”

<As did you. But also, you should know: they are not wrong in saying that they have violated their contracts to an extent. Not completely or with intention, which is an important distinction, but they have all the same.>

Zhongli had to agree, despite everything, but he did feel a little bad for throwing his feelings at the yakshas only to then storm out. He needed to start acting like the grown man he was, especially one who now held a high standing. At least he should do his best to keep his promise to them. “Once you’ve rested, we should discuss what to do about the punishments they seek from me.”

Morax took a long, slow breath and Zhongli could imagine him leaning back against little pillow he had made for the god. <I think that is something you should decide for yourself.>

Zhongli tensed for a second, feeling a hint of trepidation sneak up his back. “What? You said you would give me advice with this.”

Morax nodded. <And my advice is thus: find a solution that you feel is right, without relying on me.> He grunted, pausing for a second to gather his thoughts. <I’ve been thinking about my involvement a little. Honestly, I… might have been a little too protective of you, in some cases even. That is something we can discuss in more detail another time, if you want. But nothing will get solved if I always block and help you handle the unpleasant part of things. This is ultimately your reign now, which you must make feel and look your own, and it is you the adepti too will need to get to know better. Me telling you what they might think is best will not help here on the long run.>

Zhongli frowned. Morax was throwing him in deep water again and not at a time he appreciated. He understood what the god meant, but he had only been an emperor for a day and barely done any work. Talking about “his reign” was not a timely matter in his mind. Things needed fixing so that Liyue could be run smoothly again. For that, he needed himself to be able to handle everything without needing to retreat like this again. Surely Morax agreed on this?

But the god was back asleep again before he had a chance to argue. Reluctantly, Zhongli decided to let him sleep.

He felt a presence of another behind him, back in the study he had fled from moments prior and glanced over his shoulder towards the sliding doors to see one of them slid open with a decisive clack. “Madame Ping,” he acknowledged, silently hoping he did not look too dishevelled. “Is something the matter?”

The elderly adeptus huffed and hopped down into the garden quite spryly for someone of her stature. “Bosacius just came to prostrate himself in front of me, begging me to help him fix an argument between the two of you,” Ping said, a little exasperated.

“Uh…” Zhongli managed, frowning and wondering what had really happened. He could not quite imagine this scene she described. Then again, this was Madame Ping, who most of the palace knew to not anger, so perhaps it was exactly as she had explained it. But also: “It is… not an argument, per se,” Zhongli corrected her as she walked closer. He turned away, only listening to the ominous sound of her approaching steps, not really feeling he wanted to talk about this.

“Oh, that is not the word he used either, it’s just what I gathered. Was I mistaken?” Madame Ping inquired and came to stand beside him. “I heard he shouted at you to vent his frustrations,” her voice softened a little. “Are you alright, your majesty?”

And there was that question again… Zhongli couldn’t help but sigh at the face of it. “He merely shared me his thoughts, like I asked. He already apologised for the shouting as well. I told him to not linger on it…” But of course, they would… That’s how the adepti were with him, very stubbornly. “It is something I needed to hear and something he needed to say. Nothing more.”

“Do you want to talk with someone else? Should I go ask for young miss Hu Tao to visit?”

“Don’t,” Zhongli said immediately. “She is busy.” When his identity had become clear and started spreading across the Harbor, Wangsheng had seen an influx of visitors of the more touristy kind, which was highly unusual. It would likely occupy Hu Tao for a time, in addition to her usual work. Promotion at least should not be a problem for her for a while, although Zhongli would have to talk with her about not using him as a part of a coffin marketing stunt. Hu Tao also had her big bet payout to deal with, and Zhongli worried some would accuse her of cheating, saying that she had known it was him before anyone else. He’d have to ask and prepare to clear things up if someone was causing Hu Tao trouble for it.

“Then it is I, who shall stay.” Ping walked past him to lean her back against another part of the rock he sat on. “They were worried, my lord. That they had truly upset you this time and that you might shut yourself off from us again. That is why they came to me. Hoping that you would talk to me if not one of them.” She sighed at the memory of their lord sitting for hours on end in restless meditation, refusing to talk more than a few passing words to even her for two entire days. She took a deep breath. “Your majesty, they told me what it was you talked about. Although I do not have the details, I can hazard an educated guess how things went down. I want you to know that Bosacius is a very caring person at his heart, treasuring his siblings, his work and Liyue as a whole. He is also quite the prankster and a loud mood maker, when times allow. But some of his most defining traits are his dedication to his duties and the pride he feels for both his position and strength. And whenever one of the things he cherishes is in danger, he becomes a much more serious person and the fierce protector most know him as.”

Zhongli nodded, listening quietly as she talked, finding himself appreciating the company, despite his initial apprehensions. “I know,” he commented to participate. Morax’s memories told him as much. It was the more official side of Bosacius the emperors themselves had mostly seen, but even with the god not actively providing it, he could perceive glimpses from ages past if he focused.                 

“As I see it, it was three things, leading to a fourth, that have caused him to pent up so many frustrations this time around,” Madame Ping continued and moved towards him enough to fish out one of his hands to hold. “Firstly, he sees that he failed to protect two things he cherishes. Liyue and you. That then wounded his pride and made him turn fully to his more serious mode, determined to make up for his mistakes. But… that did not come to pass and even more things happened he could not react to or prevent. He has never been good with failure or forgiving to himself especially for them. And the wounds only deepened.”

“Then I came along, telling him that the wounds did not matter,” Zhongli finished for her but the adeptus puckered her lips at his words.

“Oh sweet lord, what an awful way to say it,” she objected. “Surely that is not what you said?”

“No,” Zhongli admitted, but shook his head. “That is never how I intended to come across. But that’s how he took it. And apparently some others as well.”

“Dear me, is that what this is about?” Ping exhaled, the warmer but tired tone peeking through again. Zhongli raised his eyebrows and glanced at her as she got back to her feet and came to stand in front of him. “Is that what has you look so torn again, your majesty?” she asked. Zhongli made a little, surprised sound in his throat when she pulled him against her shoulder. With him sitting on the rock, she was actually just tall enough to not make the height difference the most awkward factor of the gesture. “When will we reach a time something isn’t constantly causing me to see that frown on your face?” she moaned as she wrapped one hand around his stiff shoulders, while another prevented him from backing his head away from her hold.

Zhongli shifted in her surprise hug, bothered. “You… need not comfort me. I am not a child.”

“Shush, sweetheart,” Madame Ping said sharply and made no move to let him go. “Pretend that this is for me if it bothers you. Or practice for the time Indarias will inevitably jump at you when you six eventually make up.”

Sweetheart? Since when? Zhongli inadvertently found himself leaning against her shoulder and, after a moment of trying to come up with an argument to let him go (that didn’t include a downright order) and failing, he surrendered and closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

“That’s it,” Ping soothed quietly as his shoulders relaxed and she hummed a little, pleased. “What else is on your mind, my lord? May an old woman pry?”

Zhongli sighed, wondering if he could ever win an argument against her. “The punishments for the yaksha’s conduct. I promised to think of something.” His voice muffled a little against her shoulder.

“Again with this…” Ping bemoaned, rubbing his shoulder gently. “I swear everyone is simply too uptight about it. They should take your word for it and work on making sure a new regret does not come along, instead of mulling over the past ones.”

“Mm…” Zhongli hummed and opened his eyes to look at the garden past her shoulder, without focusing on really anything in particular. “That will not do. That is what has brought us to this point. I cannot simply tell someone to stop feeling what they do and expect results. I have to think of their feelings on this, not just about my convenience. They deserve closure just as anyone. Now that I understand that… … If that is what they wish from me, I will try to answer it, even if it is not something I personally want to do.”

“You truly are too much, your majesty,” Madame Ping noted fondly. This wasn’t the first time she had told him something akin to that. “But if that is what you have decided.”

“I don’t… understand what you mean by that,” Zhongli admitted and closed his eyes again, letting himself go for just a moment longer, before he knew he’d inevitably return to his worries, whether he liked it or not. “Ping…” he started again, receiving a little “hm” in response. “Should I cancel it? The banquet…”

Ping actually snorted. “Heavens, no, and do not even think about taking that dream away from Xiangling now. You should have seen the child’s face when she toured the imperial kitchen and got to talk with the adepti chefs. The adepti will join you and it will be an important night for all. I am prepared to personally drag anyone who refuses to show up to sit right next to you, your majesty.”

“Um… Please don’t. That defeats the point.” Zhongli raised his hand after a moment of hesitation and returned her hug for a cautious second before patting her on the shoulder, successfully signalling to her that he wanted to be let go now.

Ping gave him his personal space back and looked closely at his face, probably trying to spot any other worry she should know about. “Do you require help or advice about the punishments, your majesty?” she asked. “Do you have an idea how to get started?”

Zhongli honestly did not want her involved. “I don’t, but… Morax told me to work through it on my own. To reach a conclusion suited for myself, instead of relying on others. Since it is a… personal issue for me as well.”

Madame Ping chuckled. “The old dragon is giving you a hard time I see. Please tell him that I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“He’s asleep right now. I will deliver your message when he awakes.”

“He left you to snooze off at a time like this?” Ping pouted, displeased.

“No, no, he is actually tired from being out on his own. I want him to get some rest as well. This… entire incident tonight is something I started on my own, without his knowledge.”

Madame Ping shook her head. “I see. Dear old Morax… I swear he does not know what settling down is, even in death. Retirement would have to surprise hit him in the face before he understood what it actually meant.” She looked up and gave Zhongli a warm smile. “I am assuming you wanted some time for yourself, your majesty. I have interrupted you most rudely,” she quipped lightly and gave him a bow graceful for someone of her apparent age. “Would you like me to leave you to it?”

Zhongli found a little smile on his own lips as well. “Yes. …Thank you, Ping.”

“Very well.” Ping nodded and took her first steps to leave. “Would you like some tea?” she decided to add, but was met with a polite refusal. So, she excused herself, leaving the same way she had come from, closing the sliding door to the study again.

“Punishment…” Zhongli repeated to himself in the quiet, darkening evening of the now again empty garden. “A solution I feel is right…”

That was easier said than done. Since he did not wish to give out punishments in the first place and in fact really thought they were a hindrance more than anything in this case, making a solution look like himself while also including one already left him at a disadvantage.

Noticing to his distaste that he and Madame Ping had walked right over the carefully arranged patterns drawn on the sand, he busied himself with smoothing it back to the way it had been. It was satisfying, watching the sand move under his open palm as he sat on his rock, the tiny, tiny pebbles rolling against one another until they were where he wanted them to be. Again with these little tricks. He hadn’t gotten any chance to bring that topic up with the yaksha today, like he had intended. He had naively believed there to be room for more discussion after the other issues were addressed. It would have to wait for another time now.

All too soon, he found the sand around him looking pristine and untouched. Lifting his feet off the ground and up to the rock as well, he guided the last rolling sands back to their undisturbed state, leaving him stranded on his seat. Alone on his little island. It was poetic, in a way. But now that that was done, he would have to go back to thinking of retribution and judgement.

He sat there for a time in silence, before eventually feeling the need to move his body while thinking. Unwilling to ruin the garden again, he tested his new body on a whim, hopping from stone to stone instead. It reminded him of a child, playing games on their own little adventures. He must have looked ridiculous, actually: a grown man and an emperor no less, surveying the best course to reach not just the path that would have let him walk, but the main door that would take him out. But his new physique was making things delightfully easy, so he continued. Each hop was light and his balance kept on every landing. No matter the distance he had to jump or the slanting of the surface he landed on, somehow his body knew exactly what to do. It gave him a liberating, yet an odd feeling as his feet took him to the door without any practice or ever really remembering doing anything similar as a child either. Not that he would have had much time back then, with so many things to do at home. Now, his body just could. Morax would probably smirk at his almost child-like wonder with it, when he awoke.

Leaving the inner garden, he walked through the empty corridors of his private quarters. Each hallway and corner contained memories not his own, that filled the space with imaginary life. Very few, only two in fact, of the previous Rex Lapis had spent their time up here completely alone more regularly. Although many had worked from the studies and lounges within, with people coming and going; even on their free time their families and closest confidants with the permission to enter and the noises from the palace below would keep the rooms lively. The emperors who hadn’t had a special someone or a particularly tightly knit family to share this living space with, often spent their time on the level below, in the quarters for their family and staff, even if this was where they slept. Zhongli could hear them, if he wanted: the sounds of other people chatting about, their footfalls on the floors. He could remember the smiles and passing words of people he had never seen or met, yet somehow still thought fondly of, somewhere in the back of his mind, as he walked forward alone.

He wondered what this place would look and feel like, if he decided to stay longer. He had no family to call here to live with him, other than their self-proclaimed arrangement with Hu Tao that had no official standing. Although, he supposed his word for it was official enough, all things considered. Still, Hu Tao would not live here with him, although she might sometimes come to visit. There was a reason her home was right next to the funeral parlour and she was not willing to switch her short dash length commute to a trek through half of the city, including many corridors, staircases and likely security arrangements, even for her, as things stood. More often than not, the emperor’s family worked in the government or high society (if they worked at all) or had jobs they could move their office of to one of the various free rooms of the two lower levels of the palace without too much of hassle. A funeral parlour was not one of such establishments. Not if Zhongli had a say in it, and he hoped at least that Hu Tao agreed.

But that did leave him here alone, with only the few adepti who regularly worked with him for company during the day. In the evenings like this, he did not know who or what to fill the empty spaces with. Not that he really minded his alone time: perhaps reading a good book or working on some extra paperwork at a leisurely pace with a pot of tea to keep him company. But truly, he had been quite happy in his few-room apartment for those things. In turn, look: he had had the time for all these thoughts by now and he was still to even exit his current home. The outer garden was shaping up to be his new favourite place, though. Every time he opened the doors like this and saw the pristine and expertly maintained garden, that was meant to look more naturally flowing than strictly set (even though that too was by design), with the backdrop view over the city and the sea… He didn’t think he could grow bored of it.

The sun had almost set now, with only the last rays colouring the clouds in the sky above and the mountains casting their shadows over the city. Liyue Harbor did not sleep as those shadows were cast, of course: its lights easily repelled the shade and even up here high above, Zhongli could hear the sounds of music and merry. The festival was reaching its daily peak. Getting another more adventurous idea, thinking perhaps this was his own form escapism at this point, he made his way a little past the pavilion he had earlier had his breakfast in, along the roofed pentice that circled the garden, until he reached the spot he calculated to be correct.

Grabbing the waist high fence, he hopped and vaulted over it, dropping down until only beams of the structure above were his support and his feet touched the mountain side the palace was built upon. Once again, he shook his head at how his body just… knew how to do that, without letting him feel any risk of falling down to the rooftops of the second level below. No emperor had ever stepped foot on this little ledge, to his knowledge, but looking up from below for centuries, he had known it to exist. He hoped the lone yaksha in the distance, that the Five had probably sent to guard him in their stead for now, did not take his jumping off ledges too seriously. Zhongli chuckled at himself. Truly: what was he doing? Maybe this was his own form of insanity.

The ledge below the walkway wasn’t wide, but enough for him to sit on comfortably. One foot he left hanging freely off the edge, while bringing another’s heel to rest against it, and he leant back against cliffside, trying to relax and enjoy the view. The lower levels of the palace spread below him and, beyond them, Yiyan temple, Yujing Terrace and Yuehai Pavilion. And then yet a step further: the rooftops and raised walkways of Liyue. The last rays of the sun and the barrier separating him from most of his view, offered a glimmering sheen to the sea beyond.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He could hear them, far below, past the silence of the palace. The people of Liyue. He could listen in on their merriment and song, hear the echoes of voices, laughter and music. The stone delivered him the taps of their footfalls on the streets. Closing his eyes like this, he could imagine the scenes that brought these feelings and sounds about. He could feel the smiles on people faces. And on yet a deeper level: he started to hear their wishes. They had never discussed it in detail with Morax, but he understood it now, sensing it.

Prayers.

He did not hear words per se, not unless he truly concentrated on one specific touch among the rest. What reached him, were the wishes themselves and the visages of people praying. So many of them: most likely much more than on a normal day, with a vast majority of them still reaching towards him from within the Yiyan Temple. Wishes for good harvests, wealth and prosperity. Hopes for love, friendship and peace. Some prayers were more numerous than others, mainly those for health and good fortune. There were also some that were more niche, like wishes for a child to sleep peacefully tonight despite of the noises of the festival or a little bucket of water turning over specifically over someone’s head. There were also a significant number of ones that wished for his own health and happiness. He supposed that was per the norm, following a coronation.

All in all, these little wishes trickling his way, although there were very few he could have directly solved, were like guidelines for him as the emperor. What did people want for the country he’d have to lead? They wanted very normal things, for the most part. They wished for stability and no worries about the food on their tables. They wanted to be healthy, sleep well at night and not have to worry about outside threats. They wanted to live their lives, undisturbed by conflicts and arguments. And although some of the wishes were selfish or contradicted with others, most of all, people wanted the chance to be themselves and take on a new day tomorrow, together with the people they trusted and loved. Those were the things they wanted him to secure.

Zhongli opened his eyes again, wondering once again what was “the solution he thought was right”. Not just for the relationship between him and the yaksha or the adepti, but for the type “reign” he wanted to create. Like it or not, he was the emperor now, and that would eventually lead to something of his own flair to be created and recorded into the history of Liyue. To compare with all the others that had and would come. What did he want it to be? What felt “right” to him? What did he want his relationship with the adepti to be like going forward? What would make this empty palace feel like home? What could he do for the people praying in his new name below?

The sun had set now and the sky was dark. The city lights kept resolutely illuminating the bay and the surrounding mountains. The barrier around the palace glimmered silently against the night sky.

“What do I think is right…” Zhongli muttered to himself again and leant his head back, turning his gaze towards the vast sky. “Punishment… ’Put us in our place’…”

“Your majesty?” a voice called out to him in the middle of his musings and the yaksha acting as his bodyguard appeared beside him, hopping down from above to balance on the ledge beside him, with one hand suspended on the rafters above. “It is getting late. The chefs would like to know what are your plans for eating tonight. They would… like to know your preferences, I mean.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Zhongli hummed, thinking back to his day, and huffed a little, amused. “I haven’t eaten anything since afternoon.” He hadn’t even drunk his tea with Ningguang and Beidou. “I’ll come see them. Something light for the evening would be nice.”

“Understood, your majesty,” Niú replied and made a move to go back up ahead of him, but he stopping hesitating a little. “My lord, may I ask?” he questioned, glancing between the wooden underside of the garden pentice and the little ledge Zhongli was sitting on. “Why are you… here?”

Zhongli laughed out loud, unable to think of any intellectual reply. “I couldn’t tell you.”

Here's some lovely little art for this chapter

Chapter Text

The stew in the pot was bubbling gently. The meat within knocked against the ladle when stirred, slowly soaking in the flavours of the broth. Zhongli set the utensil aside, turning around to set the table, satisfied with the aroma wafting up from the pot. He could leave it simmering, checking in to stir the contents every once in a while to make certain the stove wasn’t getting too hot, and for now concentrate on getting everything else ready. The drag from friction on the cloth wiping the countertop, the soft clacking of plates against the table, the feel of smoothened wood of spoons and chopsticks against the fingertips as they were set on their places: it all melted into a blur of things simply happening. A peaceful routine he had repeated many a time.

“Zhongli! Is dinner ready?” a voice he barely remembered for a moment asked from afar.

“Just a moment,” he replied and hurried his steps doing his chores. “The stew needs some more time to simmer.” His hands suddenly stopped as he set the next plate on the table. Why was he setting for so many people? Were they expecting guests? Had the table always been this long? Or had they bought a new one in preparation for the new addition to family and he simply hadn’t realised?

The voice was getting clearer now as it sighed. “Didn’t I tell you to get it ready early? We really do not have time today. Well: it’s fine. You’re doing your best, I suppose, and you’ve improved your cooking.”

“It won’t be long,” Zhongli assured quickly to the voice and hurried setting up the plates. It felt like the table was getting even longer, stretching with every plate that touched the table cover, making his progress slower.

Running out of plates, Zhongli frowned and turned around, but startled at the sight of a human lying at his feet, stumbling his hurried steps frantically into a stop to not trip over the man. He felt something cold press against his back as he stared down at the corpse at his feet, unable to move.

“That is still here? I thought you took care of it,” the voice scolded.

“I will,” Zhongli promised, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, his feet frozen in place. From the corner of his eyes, he saw that people were now seated at the table. Their guests had arrived. Had he invited them over? He knew that they were important.

“I thought we had grown past this,” the voice chided, exasperated, footsteps coming closer. “You have to take care of your own messes.”

“I will,” Zhongli said again, forcing himself to move. Their guests were here and the food still wasn’t ready yet and he had to clean up. This was going all wrong. He leant down towards the dead man, not knowing what he was supposed to do, but knowing he couldn’t just stay still. Hu Tao could— wait, who?

As soon as his fingers caught onto the dead man’s uniform, the scent of burning caught his nostrils and his head snapped back towards the stove where he saw smoke rising. The body at his feet forgotten, he started running to get around the too long table to save the food from the ire of the flames. But a tingling pain on his hand had him stop and look down. What he first thought was a snake, circling and constricting his arm disappeared as he blinked. For a second, he thought the feeling was gone and he had imagined things, but then a long, thin leg reached into his sight from under the hand he had raised up. Followed by another and then another, the number of legs clinging to his skin increased, until a spider the size of his palm climbed into sight.

Although his immediate reaction was to try and shake the creature off his hand, Zhongli felt himself unable to breath or move. His muscles twitched in place, trying to get away as the spider circled his hand, its long legs clinging to his skin and stinging through it. It hurt, but that wasn’t why he was shaking. He knew what the spider was about to do. “Please don’t…” he wanted to say but his voice come out as a rasp without words. His hand shook in place as the spider’s legs hooked on his fingers and it settled next to his palm. He could only look as it opened its mouth and leant closer.

As the spider’s needle-like fangs pierced his skin under his index finger, Zhongli shot up to sit in his bed, jerking awake from sleep. Gasping for breath, he clutched his left hand fingers tightly around the right wrist, holding both against his chest. It took him a couple of shaking breaths, shivering in place, until his brain caught up with the facts and realised the pain wasn’t real. Zhongli let his upper body slump to rest against his legs, closing his eyes to steady his breathing as he leant his forehead against the knee.

Just a dream. He sighed, relaxing. Just his mind playing tricks on him in his sleep. He hadn’t had any nightmares about everything that had happened, so why now suddenly… Oh, of course. Morax was asleep. The god had promised him to keep his dreams in check until Zhongli had had the time he needed to get over these inner demons. And as soon as Morax himself needed rest, of course he’d find himself falling right back in in their mix. Typical… Why couldn’t his brain have outgrown nightmares now that he was an adult? The fact that Morax’s memories had dug up the knowledge of what the frankly innocent spider behind his poisoning looked like didn’t help…

Zhongli thought back to his dream and groaned. If his mind was now mixing up the memories from his childhood home with these more recent ones, it spoke volumes of how inadequate and clumsy he still felt, despite of the people telling him he was doing a good job or to take his time, or how some things had actually worked out alright so far. He had tried to hammer it into his head (with Morax’s help) that it was alright to take time to learn and even make mistakes, as people were there to help him. And he understood that, he did, but at the same time, it was a fact that he was still Rex Lapis: everything he did could end up in the history books or as the most recent gossip around town. The emperor should not make mistakes that could end up harming or taxing for others. He was supposed to be a role model and an inspiring leader, not a student on his first day in a new school, for archon’s sake.

Zhongli raised his head and glanced towards the crack between the curtains to assess the time. The sun hadn’t risen yet, so he could technically go back to sleep. Today, he was supposed to meet with the adepti to discuss their findings in the Chasm and then again take some time tending to the still injured millelith. Late in the evening, there would be a parade and a show of some kind the Qixing had arranged as the climax of the Ascension festival. It usually took place during the day, but the Qixing had requested the night, so Zhongli guessed it was something that required less light in the sky. It was technically a surprise and a gift from the people of Liyue to Rex Lapis, so Zhongli was not privy to the contents. He was to show himself to the people to accept their gift (there were actually many gifts that people had given him, gathered in Yiyan Temple, and he was sort of dreading having to go through them all), but other than perhaps a few words of gratitude, there wasn’t much he needed to do, other than being present.

But getting back to the topic, all of this meant that he had quite a long day ahead of him, so he should take care to be well rested. That being said, his body didn’t require as much rest as it had previously. He had only slept four to five hours every night recently, but still had enough energy for the day without issues. Zhongli thought about going back to sleep for a moment and, realising how awake he already was, glanced towards the bathroom. Perhaps a long, relaxing bath to start the day would better help him relax for now.

The adepti would likely scold me if they saw me doing this myself… Zhongli pondered to himself as he readied the bath, feeling the water with his fingers to help him adjust the temperature. Now that he had ascended, the adepti had relaxed their guard around him a little, so he had a little more privacy in his own quarters. At least they were no longer watching him sleep or constantly worried about his health, at least openly, so although someone perhaps had realised he was awake, there was no one who would come bother him before the appointed time that day, unless he called for them.

Fiddling with the temperature to get it just right, he huffed to himself, slightly amused as he realised, that he was technically using four simultaneous elements to make himself a bath right now. Building a working plumbing system for water this high up the mountain was not an easy task, so Morax and some later emperors who had expanded the palace had “taken the easy way” and used different techniques. There was a hydro spell in place under the floor to transfer water here from the spring in the baths, then pyro and cryo charms to adjust the temperatures and to top it all off, he was using his own power to activate the system, which was technically geo. Ridiculous, he thought, shaking his head. But I suppose it works well.

Once the bath was ready, Zhongli took off the bathing robe and stepped into the water, settling comfortably to sit against the edge to enjoy the warmth that seeped into his body. Lying still, the only sound in the room was the slight ripples of water and his own breathing. The scent of the bathing salt he had selected was gentle in the air. Zhongli slipped lower under the water and rested his neck against the edge of the huge tub, closing his eyes. There were some luxuries in his new life that he definitely minded less than others and this was one of them.

Feeling a stir within his mind, Zhongli found himself smiling a little as he could tell his partnering soul was well-rested now as well. “Good morning, Morax.”

The god yawned and a little rumble escaped from him. <Now isn’t this a pleasant sensation to wake up to,> he commented, joining Zhongli in enjoying the bath. <Good morning. You’re up early.>

“I… had some trouble sleeping without your help,” Zhongli admitted, ashamed. “I figured this was the more relaxing option for now.”

<Hmm. I see,> Morax said slowly. <We were out of luck then. Not all of your dreams require me to interfere actively. Although, you do tend to worry about things and overthink a lot.>

“I had not realised it was so much trouble for you,” Zhongli apologised.

<It is not hard, no need to feel bad for it. Besides, I’ve promised to help you. In fact, you should think of it as my duty. Helping you sleep is nothing.>

Zhongli opened his eyes and looked up at the reflections of water playing in the ceiling. “I don’t think I understood just how much your input meant. Not just with the dreams. Do you remember before the Ascension, how I snapped at Bosacius and Indarias for no reason whatsoever? I had thought I had worked past the worst of it, but you were gone for less than a day, and I’ve slipped right back into not being able to control my emotions. I walked out of two meetings in one day, because I was unable to remain professional.” He sighed and frowned, admitting his faults. “I was immature and selfish, and handled things poorly for someone of my status. I’m sorry.” Morax’s influence on him was like a shade shielding him from bright lights. With it gone, he had been unable to handle the spotlights, without flinching and shielding his eyes.

<If you feel like apologising, I am not the one you should consider.> There was a little break, during which Zhongli knew Morax was inspecting his memories from the time he had missed. <At least offer an explanation to Ningguang as to what happened. I do not mind you telling about me to her, so you need not make excuses. As for the Five, you already have plans to talk more with them in any case. I see you’ve had some thoughts on what to do to meet their request.>

Zhongli averted his eyes from the ceiling, as if it was looking back anyway, and sat up in the tub again. “Yes. I tried to think of what you said. Do you think it would be enough for them?”

Morax smiled. <I don’t see why not. At least it is place from where to continue so this rift cannot stagnate. Talk with them again and we will see how they react. Let them offer their input, be it words or emotions.>

Zhongli nodded. He cupped water in his hands and raised it up to let the warmth wash drip down against his face and hair. Morax’s words were giving him some confidence.

<To address what you said earlier, we should discuss what I mentioned yesterday, about how I might have been too protective of you,> Morax changed the subject.

“What did you mean by that?”

<That I too let the stress of the situation interfere with my conduct,> the god explained, sounding sour. <I was determined to keep my new vessel safe, after what happened with my previous one. I was fully prepared to do whatever I must to keep you safe and it was needed at times. But I also inadvertently made some things more difficult and dangerous for you by being too aggressive about that approach. When you returned to the palace after all the trouble we had faced and met with the council, for instance, I finally wished to give you the support that should have been yours from the start. When they then instead acted disrespectfully and belittled your abilities, that I had become proud of and come to rely on as my new partner, I was furious and unable to contain it.>

“Your confidence in my abilities astounds me still,” Zhongli admitted, mumbling. “I was too forgiving and docile in that meeting. I should have assumed a sterner role with them sooner as well, to keep things from escalating like that. Not quite as fierce as you, but I should have shown them a firmer hand as the appointed leader.”

<But I hope you realise, that when Li Teng cited his reasons for coming after your life, he spoke of seeing you as someone with violent tendencies: someone not afraid of to use their brute strength to get what they want, even if it meant threatening others. He saw you as someone who would misuse the power you were granted. As that meeting was the only time he ever saw you using any power in a threatening way, it is clear that I was the one he feared. Not you.>

“That is not true,” Zhongli countered. “I told them it was your anger they felt. His mistrust in me for being a commoner and unfit for duty in the first place, was what led him to believe I was merely making excuses and putting the blame on you instead.”

Morax sighed. <One thing too many could have been what forced his hand, however misguided his will was. In any case, I directly bolstered his beliefs by acting out too strongly. I will admit… that I am unused to being able to interact with the world or my vessel this directly. As lovely as it is, I have repeatedly failed to remember just how strongly you can make out my emotions or mood for instance, or realise my condition, like yesterday, and how strongly those can affect you.>

“I don’t believe anyone would really blame you for that,” Zhongli said. “I certainly don’t.”

<It is not blame that I seek, merely awareness of the issue,> Morax corrected him. <In addition to that, to return to our initial topic, my protectiveness of you has transferred to handling your mental state as well.>

Zhongli frowned, shifting at an uncomfortable thought. “You’re not planning on stopping, are you? I think we saw yesterday how well I can handle things without your aid right now.”

Morax shook his head. <It is not that I will stop, but perhaps you yourself have now realised just how many emotions and thoughts you have left to process. We cannot keep putting them aside for later forever. Having me block all the negative things and carry the so-called baggage you have gathered is not a real solution.>

Zhongli sighed deeply and dipped his head underwater briefly, just to feel the rush of the warm water running down his hair.

<You understand this, no?> Morax demanded a comment from him, expectantly.

Zhongli settled on rubbing his face, massaging the looming frustration off his features. “Yes.”

Morax was pleased. <Good.> His acknowledgement added to the feeling of warmth dripping down Zhongli’s skin alongside the water. <Don’t worry, I will not leave you to handle things on your own. Especially during your official duties, since they already cause you so much stress. We do not want to add onto the burden you have gathered, whenever possible. But other times, whenever the situation permits… Well. You understand.>

 Zhongli ran his hands through his hair, distracting himself by starting to make an effort to wash it. Not that there was a need, really, but mindless physical actions like this helped him gather his thoughts. It was like his little hops along the rocks last night, which Morax seemed to be surprisingly pleased with somehow. Zhongli understood what Morax was saying and he knew the god was right. He was running from his problems that were clearly waiting for him to face them. It was hard to admit to himself how much the many events prior to his Ascension had affected him, let alone the thought of sharing that problem with someone else. He wished he could have simply taken it and moved on stronger and more mature, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect. As per usual, there was no easy way forward in his life.

Usually, whenever something happened that he struggled with or even if he was tired or stressed because of work, taking a long walk through the streets of the city had helped. It had been his way to allow himself time to process his problems or distress in peace, while idling in the streets, looking through interesting wares and talking with acquaintances. He would enjoy his time appreciating the beauty of the scenery, drink some soothing tea and listen to the many stories that told of wonders and great minds he could learn from, and depicted emotions more freely than he usually allowed himself to express. It had been his way to set things back to zero, so that he might face his problems again. Would he have to think of a new way now, as Rex Lapis?

Zhongli washed the rest of the soaps and salts off his skin to finish his early morning bath. The occasion had been nice, but it did not offer the same refreshing feeling emotionally as it did physically. Realising this, he grabbed himself by the proverbial leash and started conjuring a plan of action. He knew Morax was right in saying that he could not keep running away, as much as he wanted to simply push things aside for now. Perhaps the best way then was to take the first step actively, instead of dreading it like a dip into cold water. He had no time to let his emotions take hold of his actions like yesterday: he was the emperor now. Morax had agreed to help him with the official things so his fluctuating mental issues would not get in the way of governance or his ceremonial duties, but the less he’d have to use his time for personal retreats, the more time he’d have time to actually do something meaningful. And to start moving things forward, he’d need to confirm that his old ways of destressing were indeed unavailable. It felt unlikely walking through the streets would still help him the same way it had before, but best confirm it for certain. If it still worked, he would not have to come up with a new way of balancing himself. Going to walk the streets among the people had been his plan in any case.

Although… Zhongli thought silently as he walked back out into his bedroom. The trip to the city was worked into my schedule yesterday and my day is rather full. Can I squeeze in a visit to the city? Do I need to change things around? Also…

When Ganyu some time later knocked on his door and entered upon receiving permission, she was surprised to see her emperor fully clothed, his hair still slightly damp with a fresh fragrance of sandalwood leaves. He was dressed in the more casual attire again, having forgone even the decorative cloths Menogias had attached to the shoulders of his usual, somewhat stylized coat.

“Ganyu. I’m sorry to trouble you, but we must amend my schedule,” Zhongli said, putting on his gloves and finishing his prep work for the start of the day before his secretary had even properly stepped over the threshold of the door.

“Oh? Of course!” Ganyu replied quickly, blinking her surprise away. She stepped out of the way to let him walk out of the room, then hurried after him. “W-what would you like to change?”

“We’re splitting the reports of the adepti into two sections, one to the morning and one to the evening, after the parade,” Zhongli started sharing his carefully thought-out amendments. “Also, if at all possible, we will be starting earlier. Please advise Yèzili and Sea Gazer to join me for breakfast or as soon as they can after it. Similarly, Moon Carver and Cloud Retainer should come see me after the official ceremonies are over.”

“That will be quite late in the evening, your majesty,” Ganyu felt the need to point out, the tip of her pencil pressed on the papers in her hands. “Considering how late in the evening the official parade takes place, if we start this early and continue past it, you would work for over sixteen hours today. Shouldn’t we rather move one of the reports to another time?”

“Ah, no, that’s fine. Not everything I need to get done today is strictly work and my overall stamina is quite good at the moment. It is best we do not pile up the work for later needlessly.”

“Um, then…” Ganyu gathered her thoughts and then declared, determined. “Then I am prepared to work overtime with you, my lord. May I ask what else did you want added or moved in today’s schedule to make this change necessary?”

“Of course, we were getting to that. Before lunch, I want the Five to come and see me.”

Ganyu’s fingers flinched against the paper. “Have you… come to some decision about yesterday?” Of course, someone had told her.

Zhongli nodded, opening the door to one of the studies and stepping inside, Ganyu at his heels. “I have. I wish to continue our discussions from last night. After that, I will deviate from the original plan and take some time to go and meet with the people, like I was supposed to, yesterday.”

Ganyu’s expression brightened. “You will? Yes, yes, I will work it into your schedule!” She cleared her throat, reigning in her excitement. “Oh but, what of lunch, my lord?”

“I will eat down in the city.” That declaration seemed to catch Ganyu completely off guard. Zhongli couldn’t exactly blame her: Rex Lapis nearly never dined with the people Liyue, let alone down in the streets personally. Seeing the qilin so unsure what to comment, Zhongli decided to elaborate. “Although most festival stalls mainly operated yesterday, some yet remain. I wish to sample the delicacies made by the citizens I am meant to govern. If no food stalls remain, there are plenty of restaurants and other establishments that can provide the needed sustenance. And if you’re worried about my safety, no one will be expecting my visit, so I doubt they’d have the time to procure and mix in a poison into anything I sample, let alone one strong enough to actually affect me.”

Ganyu realised her jaw was hanging open and closed it quickly as she shook her head. “Oh, I am not worried… um, too much… perhaps a little, of your majesty’s safety, it is just… Well, rather unexpected. But that doesn’t mean I am against it! No, in fact I…” she fumbled a little, looking for words. “I think that sounds really special.”

Zhongli smiled. “Thank you, Ganyu.” Catching himself, he frowned. “Oh, my apologies. I keep dropping the formalities when speaking with you. I’m afraid it is a Morax habit. I will make an effort to properly refer to you as Ms. Ganyu again.”

Ganyu shook her head almost violently. “No, no, that is not neces— …I mean: you need not worry about how you act around me. Refer to me with any moniker you’d want, Rex Lapis. Unless you of course would rather keep things formal! But I do not mind the lack of an honorific. It’s… er…” She averted her gaze, flustered. “Special?”

Zhongli couldn’t help but chuckle at her struggles. “Simply Ganyu it is then. And do not fret, I understand. It is true you have not had quite this close or frequent contact with Rex Lapis recently. My predecessor mostly sent you written instructions, the 26^th was strictly formal with everyone and the 25^th so often away from Liyue on her travels. In turn, I will admit it comes more naturally to me to simply keep things casual. It must be quite the change for you as well.” He cleared his throat. “But back to the matter at hand, to grant myself some time to browse the streets, I would also like to move my visit to see the injured ahead a few hours. To make up for it, I will work closer to the time of the parade, together with the healers. Please inform them of the change so that they may accommodate, and deliver my apologies for the inconvenience in advance. If the delay proves to cause problems, I will forgo this change and proceed as planned.”

“The time in between the treatment and the parade was meant for your dinner and a short break before the preparations for the finale of the celebrations,” Ganyu reminded him, realising another planned skip of a meal she found concerning.

“Something light and quick will do for dinner. I will eat more properly after the day is done,” Zhongli promised, seeing the crease between her eyebrows.

“You will also be forgoing your break.”

“I am aware. It will not be a problem.”

Ganyu frowned down at the new schedule she had penned down, glancing over it from start to finish, with all the little notes for herself on who needed to be informed of what to make it work. “If you say so.”

Zhongli nodded. “I understand it is unconventional, but the additions are really important to me. But the preparations for the parade will have to be hurried from my part. Will that be a problem?”

Ganyu thought about it. “In all honesty, it might depend on how good a mood Menogias will be after you talk with him today, your majesty.”

Zhongli huffed out a quiet sigh. “I’d better try my best then.”

“Was there anything else?”

“That should be everything. Can I trust you to inform all involved of the changes? Do not hesitate to report back to me if you encounter a problem. I am asking quite a few people to amend their schedules for me on a short notice. I realise it might not work.”

“Just leave everything to me, my lord,” Ganyu assured, bowing her head down. “I will inform you of any extra work or problems that may arise.”

Zhongli nodded back to her with an almost-bow of his own. “Thank you. And, again, I am sorry to ask this of you first thing in the morning.”

Ganyu smiled. “Please don’t be. It is my job and I am happy to do it.”

Zhongli returned her smile with an appreciating nod and took a seat behind the table, intending on browsing the written reports the adepti had gathered here for him beforehand, so that his conversations with them might go a little smoother. Sensing the conversation was over for now, Ganyu bowed and turned around quickly to get to work on her part. She had a lot of people to contact and a lot of preparations to make. As well as some additions and changes to make to her own schedule she had planned for the day.

“Oh: and Ganyu?” Zhongli called out, looking up from the first scroll he had opened, just before she closed the door. When he had her attention, he added, light-hearted. “I had forgotten to say this: good morning.”

Ganyu’s eyes widened a fraction, but there was some added warmth in her voice as she replied. “Good morning, Rex Lapis.”

She then closed the door, leaving him to his reports and hurrying off first to see Yèzili and Sea Gazer, after which she’d need to head into the kitchen.

After a couple of reports, Zhongli was joined by the adepti’s resident linguistics enthusiast and the resident rare item collector, who had come across quite a few rare and peculiar things while making his collection. Together, Yèzili and Sea Gazer had been appointed the task of deciphering the abyssal scripts and some runic markings that had been discovered and gathered from their enemies’ hideout behind the portals in the Chasm. Zhongli inspected their findings and listened to explanations on how they had reached certain conclusions and what they thought of them, as well as what they intended to do going forward. This talk was interrupted in the middle by one of the adepti chefs, who arrived to bring Zhongli his breakfast. The adeptus took the opportunity to also inform Zhongli that all four adepti who had throughout the years added cooking to their interests wanted to stay in the palace. Zhongli by no means needed four cooks on any regular day, but he supposed it would allow the adepti serving him more free time to pursue their own creeds and if there ever was a need for a bigger feast, they could then help one another.

It took him a few hours to go through everything Yèzili and Sea Gazer had gathered, while slowly eating his breakfast on the side. Once the two concluded that they had gone through everything they had found out for now and discussed any questions about the subject they had for him, Zhongli dismissed them, thanking them for their work so far. The duo would continue inspecting what else they could find, which would most likely be a long process. Yèzili was yet to completely decipher the script, although she had made some headway and they had a new theory brewing about the use of some artefacts and symbols every day. They promised to keep Zhongli up to date of their findings and report to him immediately on a breakthrough.

It was around the time Zhongli had been meant to start working that day when he set down the remaining reports, gulped down the rest of his morning tea (he was thankful for the adepti techniques that kept the pot hot) and made his way towards the other study by the inner garden again. His heart threatened to beat a little faster and palms get squeezy with a nervous sweat, but Morax assured him that things would work out fine, enough to keep Zhongli’s nervousness in check. Ganyu had stopped by a while earlier to inform him of how the implementation of the changes was going and that the yaksha were ready to meet with him whenever. Zhongli sensed their presence as he entered the cozy study from last night again. They were nearby, waiting for him to call them. The room was as it had been left yesterday, with the sliding doors shut and the chair turned to face the rest of the room. It had felt right to Zhongli to use this place to finish what they had started. If only to start making up for his own mistakes in the discussion yesterday.

Sitting down on the chair, Zhongli took a deep breath and a moment to pause.

<You fret too much. I am confident you can reach them.>

I hope so, Zhongli responded, leaning back on his chair. “You may enter.”

Only a flash brought them right back to where things had gone wrong yesterday: with Zhongli seated on his chair and the yaksha on their knees in a row in front of him, both parties still calm.

“Good morning, my lord,” Menogias spoke up before Zhongli could. “We thank you for seeing us again. There is something me and my siblings wish to say to you. Before we start, may I speak?”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows, surprised. Already things were going differently than he had anticipated. He had half expected the yaksha to not even talk with him before he reprimanded them or something. “Good morning. Of course you may. Please, speak your mind.”

Menogias nodded. “Last night, after you had left us, we discussed in length what happened. Yesterday, you stated that you had failed to consider our feelings appropriately. We realise now, that in wallowing in our own guilt, we also failed to understand you. Although we have not yet had much time to spend with you, that alone does not explain our lack of courtesy.” He raised his head to look Zhongli in the eyes. “Back when you passed judgement to the treasure hoarders, I personally witnessed how much using your new power and status to stand above others affected you. Our eyes have been opened enough now to recognise, that that is exactly what we also asked of you, by demanding your judgement.” He shifted, along with the rest of his siblings, to put both of his hands on the floor and they bowed down their heads in apology. “I had promised back then, to support you were it to happen again, yet we have instead forced you into that same situation we had seen make you so uncomfortable. Although we do not think our demands of you to be unjust, we should have approached the issue differently and been more conscious of your feelings. You likely do not wish to hear this, your majesty, but we apologise for being so inconsiderate.”

Zhongli took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “You’re right, I am not too keen on hearing you apologise again. But it is not unexpected. But if you feel the need to be more considerate of my feelings, then please raise your heads. I wish to speak with you face to face, not with the backs of your heads.” The yakshas reacted quickly and Zhongli waited for them all to meet his gaze before continuing. “I too have an apology for you, that I know you do not wish to hear. Last night, I acted unbecoming of my expected station and childishly ran out of a situation that clearly needed proper discussion to be sorted out. It must not have only been me who felt uncomfortable after the fact. I am sorry for leaving you with such uncertainty,” he got out of his chest, nodding to the shocked adepti, but careful to keep it not deep enough to be considered a bow. Archons forbid if he had actually lowered his head to them in return. It would have created a whole another mess, most likely. “But now that these unpleasant but needed words have been exchanged,” he continued. “I have called you here to continue our yesterday’s discussion in a more civilized manner. I have taken some time to consider your words.”

“My lord,” Bosacius spoke and Zhongli noticed that he was clearly keeping his voice on the more mellow and formal side this time. Most likely the yaksha had beat himself up quite a bit after yesterday. “There was something in your words yesterday that made us reconsider our stance. We failed to consider how difficult our demands for judgement were for you to meet in these pressing times. I am loathe to admit that we never considered the practical applications of punishments from your point of view. We do not wish to cause you extra inconvenience, on top of everything else you have to deal with. Yet we even believed, that by passing judgement appropriately, it would somehow make things easier and smoother for us all going forward. We now realise that was merely our misconception. Although we still believe we deserve and wish for proper repercussions, if my lord so chooses, we can move the timing of these punishments to another time or work on another solution together.”

“If you accept my decisions here as a worthy course of action to reprimand you, there will be no need for that,” Zhongli replied, causing the yakshas to look at him, surprised.

“My lord has figured out a way?” Bonanus asked, cautiously showing her surprise.

“Yes. I believe so,” Zhongli said, hoping he was right. “Although it is unconventional, I hope it meets your demands to an extent for now. If you believe it insufficient, we can return to the topic at a later and better time, and think of this as merely the first part of my judgement.”

Indarias straightened her back a little and waved her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head. “We will accept your decisions! You don’t need to—”

“Yes, Indarias, I do,” Zhongli stopped her, emphatically. “I intend to not let this issue fester in any of our minds, so that we may put it behind us. If you have concerns with my decision, I ask that you voice them.” He looked steadily back at Indarias’s wide eyes for a few seconds as she digested his words. “Are we clear on this?”

Indarias startled and pressed her hands flat against the floor again to show him respect. “Yes, Rex Lapis!”

Zhongli sighed. “Bowing,” he pointed out patiently and held back another sigh as Indarias snapped up straight again. It was going to be an uphill battle with that. He shifted in his chair, trying to look official as he started (wondering if he succeeded). “Now then. I will charge you for negligence and carelessness while handling your duties, the failure to protect the divine vessels of the Lord of Geo and poor conduct while interacting with the people of Liyue. To reiterate, you shall listen to my judgement and are allowed to comment on it and ask for additional charges to be carried out at a later time if you so choose. However, I will not permit any changes to the existing sentence I’ve chosen.”

“Understood, Rex Lapis,” Bosacius replied and bettered his posture, ready to hear his decision. His siblings followed suite. “We are ready to hear and accept your judgement, whatever it may be.”

Zhongli looked over the five knelt down adepti in front of him, who were not quite bowing, but instead of his face, their eyes were glued somewhere around his feet. He supposed that would be good enough: he certainly would have had a hard time looking straight in the eyes of a person who was delivering a punishment for his mistakes.

As he took a moment to go over each of their forms, glimpses of past memories drifted into his mind. A mess of a room filled with cloths and string, and hands that deftly measured this and that part of him in the midst of that sea of colour, as a calm chatter filled the room. The feeling of being lost for breath, a polearm in hand and the height of excitement in his veins, crossing blades with an ally in training while their feet splashed in the shallow pools. A quiet night on top of a mountain, looking down towards the lights of the festival below; words of encouragement shared in the privacy formed in a moment of mutual trust and understanding. A sea of flames and a desperate cry for help from within: a plea for him to end the suffering and fear, as the destroyed ground burned against his feet he had forced to move, soot and smoke bitter in his lungs. The look of desperation, born of confusion and fear of the one who had remembered how to hope, in the eyes that looked up at him, and a frail hand, that for the first time reached towards another on its own accord. A maelstrom of emotions, mixing together in this one moment for him to remember, all fragments of the past hundreds and thousands of years.

“To start,” Zhongli said after a moment of silence that was probably shorter than it felt. “You have admitted to have underperformed in your duties as the guardians of the Imperial Palace and bodyguards of Rex Lapis. As the illuminated guardians of Liyue, this is unacceptable.” He took care in choosing the right words and being firm in his delivery. So that no one would interpret him as being dismissive again. “Thus, I will have you retrain yourselves from the ground up. From the very basics of combat, to studies and debates on strategy. I shall personally be the judge of this process. I will watch and monitor your prowess and progress individually, to weed out any complacency and weaknesses, so that what happened shall never again come to pass,” he laid out the end product of his long chains of thought.

So far, the Five hadn’t reacted much, but with his next verdict, Zhongli could instantly see how the words stung against their pride. “Additionally, I will have you train me in combat.” This was what he had meant to ask yesterday, although as a request rather than an order. Change the wording but a little and he could see that at least this part the yaksha actually viewed as a direct result of their shortcomings. “As long as your skills are under re-evaluation, I cannot trust solely on your protection at the face of the trying times. Thus, I must learn to protect myself. I have a lot to get used to and explore about my new powers, both physical and elemental, and similarly much I need to learn of strategy and the training and management of troops. For all of this, you will be my teachers, sparring partners and instructors.”

Zhongli actually felt bad at the look both Indarias and Xiao now gave him and how Bosacius’s fingers had curled into fists. He knew they did not want him anywhere near danger, whether he wielded his polearm or not. But he had to remain firm with this, so he made sure to keep his inner disdain off his face.

“For the duration of your re-evaluation,” Zhongli continued when it seemed the adepti had swallowed their objections and complaints for now. “You will stay here in the palace.”

Bonanus looked up from the floor she had been staring at silently, her tense shoulders now relaxing. “Stay here?” she questioned, baffled.

Zhongli nodded. “I thought that to be obvious. How am I to monitor you, if you are not near me?” He took a deep breath. “This brings us to the next portion of your... punishment. You had worries about inconveniencing me, no? I believe my solution to be most efficient, solving two of my persistent problems in one. You see, I had wondered what to do about the palace’s staff.” He smiled a little at how all of the yaksha now looked up at him in confusion. “You will stay here with me, so that my work and yours remains as efficient as possibly, and allows me to gauge daily, how your training proceeds. At the same time, you will aid me in the palace’s daily matters and as such, interact more with the people of Liyue. You, and the rest of the yaksha, will run my errands and help out with the worldly affairs alongside your other duties, so that you may learn how to interact with the people in a more amiable way.”

Bosacius slammed his palm against the floor, not loudly but decisively. “My lord, this hardly counts as punishment.”

“Oh?” Zhongli asked and closed his eyes. “Then I suppose you have volunteered to clean the imperial baths, marshal Vritras. Um…” he stuttered immediately after his words, realising he had just told the leader of Liyue’s military to grab a mop. “I mean…”

His correction was interrupted by a muffled snort that brought his attention to Indarias, who was trying hard not to laugh out loud. Menogias tried to nudge at her to keep quiet, but it did not help.

Another slap of hands sounded against the floor as Bosacius bent his upper body down in a formal bow. “I shall leave not a speck of dust behind, your majesty.”

Uh… that worked? Zhongli quickly cleared his throat to make his slip-up seem intentional and waited for Bosacius to rise and Indarias to quickly swallow the rest her laugh before he continued. “I have demoted the highest generals of my army to do menial tasks, alongside their official duties. I fail to see how it does not count as a punishment.” Of sorts. He was definitely cutting corners to keep his own sanity. “I expect to see results and hard work from all of you, no matter what you are assigned.”

“Yes, your majesty,” he got as a reply from multiple of them. “We will meet your expectations, without fail.”

“Excellent. It seems we are in understanding,” Zhongli said, allowing himself to relax a little. This all was… very awkward and he wanted it to be over. “I have told you my verdict and as I said, it will stand regardless. Do you wish to expand it?”

“Yes.”

Zhongli supressed a startle at the immediately request, although it caused a shiver run down his spine. He had… kind of hoped the yaksha would accept his chosen punishment as the only course of action. But the rough edge on the voice told him that there was still something that had remained unaddressed and couldn’t be left behind. “What is still weighing you, Xiao?”

Xiao hesitated a moment, during which Zhongli saw all of his siblings glancing at him, before he stood up from his spot at the end of the row and walked to stand in front of the chair. Zhongli raised his eyebrows, unsure what Xiao was up to, especially when a small flash of green particles materialized the primordial jade winged-spear to the yaksha’s open palms between them.

“Rex Lapis,” Xiao started with a rough voice and he knelt back down to the floor, setting the polearm at Zhongli’s feet. “I… cannot be judged by the same standards as my brothers and sisters. I am guilty of all the same faults as them, but also carry your blood in my hands. Thrice have I pointed my blade at you and as a result, the blood of the god I have sworn to protect has smeared the very weapon you once entrusted to me. My actions forced you out of hiding and made you readjust your plans. I brought the suspicion of our enemies to your person by repeatedly appearing in your presence. And it was I who retrieved and delivered to you the symbol of strength, failing to realise it had been tampered with.”

Zhongli’s hand had found its way to clutch over his mouth and chin and he now leant his elbow against the armrest again, having failed to keep his stature. He blames himself for all of that? His mind was racing, trying to figure out how to respond. The symbol of strength aside, the incident back at the ruins… I had forgotten all about that. That little gash on the side of his neck that had long since healed. So much had happened since then… What do I do?

Xiao had pressed his forehead all the way down against the floor. Both his posture and voice were full of finally voiced guilt. “I have directly broken my contract with you, my lord, and brought you irreversible harm. I am unworthy of remaining in your presence.” His fingers clutched against the floor, nails drawing lines against it. “I ask the previous punishments that require my presence here to be amended, and, as per the clause in our original contracts, to be allowed to leave your side and keep my distance, until I have properly repented for my sins.”

Zhongli inhaled a long breath to steady himself. No: he did not want or agree with any of that. But once again this was something where a few wrong words could make the world of difference. He did not want to risk toying with someone’s feelings because he couldn’t figure out what to say. This was not something he could walk out of this time either and take his time with, not after how he had just said himself that this should be a civilised discussion.

Morax? What should I do? But the god was quiet, causing Zhongli to curse in his mind. So even this, Morax wanted him to deal with? His heart was beating faster as the stress started to get to him and the silence following Xiao’s words stretched and stretched with his head pounding empty as it looked for the right response. Morax.

<He is not wrong in what he says,> Morax finally answered his plea, if unhelpfully. <That is all I have to add. I have promised to give you information, not answers. And you have all the information you need. The answer to his request should be clear to you, if you think back to your own words. What to do after, is up to you.>

So this was a test? Now of all times? Did Morax really care so little about— no, that wasn’t it, he treasured all of them: he just trusted Zhongli to be able to deal with this appropriately. For some reason! Really, from where does your confidence in me stem from? Zhongli sighed. The yaksha were all completely still as they waited, their gazes on the ground. His mind dug into the earlier discussion and the glimpses of the past from Morax’s earlier shared remembrance, looking for a solution. The silent waiting for him to speak up and respond created an atmosphere of expectation and responsibility, weighed heavily on his shoulders. But with Morax’s little hint, Zhongli at least had somewhere to start breaking that silence.

“My verdict is not open to change,” he said steadily, after forcing himself to sit up straight again. “This I have already made clear. You are to remain here, with your siblings, to answer for your misconduct, such as they, general Alatus.”

Xiao’s breathing seized up and he looked up in a now unrestrained plea, that did not know whether to be irritated or relieved. “But! The clause to—”

“You have come before me, admitting to have broken our contract,” Zhongli stopped him, carefully not raising his voice and speaking evenly, to leave as little room for counter arguments as possible. “On what grounds do you still plead access to that clause without my consent?”

Xiao shut his mouth tightly and for a few seconds his gaze still challenged Zhongli’s, looking for an argument, before he gave up. Zhongli watched how the yaksha’s gaze fell to the floor and shoulders drooped down. He took a moment longer to think, but he knew stretching the silence further would only make Xiao feel worse, so he decided to act, even at the risk of making a mistake.

“To be clear, it is only the act of aggression against me that you should be charged for. All other things you have listed, fall under the negligence and carelessness already discussed. But it is true that you have breached your contract. And as the proxy of the God of Contracts, it is my duty to respond in kind,” he said and stood up from his chair, causing the atmosphere in the room to shift. “Xiao,” he spoke down to the adeptus deferring at his feet. “Stand up.”

Xiao rose up to his feet slowly. Before Zhongli could continue, Bosacius interrupted the moment.

“Rex Lapis,” the eldest yaksha spoke up with a hint of haste in his voice. “We all share the same blame. Should you punish Alatus for his actions, I ask we are allowed to share it.”

“No!” Xiao snapped, his voice thinning slightly, rising panic in his voice as he met Zhongli’s gaze again. “My siblings have already been judged. I alone will accept any punishment remaining.”

What exactly… are they expecting me to do? Start beating him up? Zhongli thought, feeling an uncomfortable sting in his chest at how Xiao seemed so ready to accept even physical punishment from him. Zhongli raised his hands up, offering his palms up between Xiao and him. “Hand me your weapon.”

Xiao quickly crouched down to pick up the primordial jade-wing spear from between them and set it down on Zhongli’s hands. Then he flinched when Zhongli’s fingers wrapped against his own around the polearm before he could take his hands back, and he looked up at his lord again, uncertain what was going to happen next.

“You have broken your contract, but I will not have it terminated,” Zhongli said. “But as punishment, I will confiscate this weapon that you were once entrusted to wield in Liyue’s defence. I shall give it back to you, once you have proven yourself to me, with your own actions. And until that day, I will also forbid you access to the clause of the contract, that grants adepti the option to seclude themselves. You will serve your sentence with your siblings, right here by my side.”

Xiao gritted his teeth, unwilling to accept the ruling. “I don’t understand. How can you trust someone like me to remain at your side?”

“My trust is mine to give.”

Xiao’s entire demeanour changed at the words. The tenseness from his shoulders was gone as they dropped, and his mouth hang open, with any unsaid words dying before getting out. So quickly Zhongli could not react, he had pulled his hands away from his, leaving the polearm in Zhongli’s hands, and Xiao took a step away, staring at him, wordless. Zhongli met his widened and stunned gaze with his own, wondering if he had made a mistake uttering those words. It was something very personal between Morax and Xiao, but the echoes of the earlier remembrance had offered the words to him, so he had taken his chance. He hoped Morax would not be mad at him for probing into his personal memories. The god did seem a little taken aback by his word choice as well.

But now, that earlier silence was stretching again. Now what… Zhongli thought, bothered, and occupied himself by dismissing the polearm, before he returned his attention to Xiao, who still stood there, in front of him, with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. “I will only return your polearm, after you’ve served your sentence.” He decided to stick to the facts. His gaze hardened, or at least that’s what he tried to look like, to make his words seem final. “Earn yourself back the right to carry it, my vigilant yaksha.”

Xiao startled, minutely flinching as if he remembered how to move. For a moment longer he stood still, then he shifted to stand in attention and inclined his head. “Yes… my lord,” his words were quiet and were immediately drowned under some shuffling of clothes and limbs, followed by a surprised grunt from Xiao as Indarias collided with him, enveloping the smaller yaksha into a hug.

“Sister?” Xiao uttered, at the same time as Bosacius, although their tones were quite different.

Zhongli listened to the banter that started between the yaksha about proper behaviour and let it take flight without his input. He was thankful that Indarias had stepped in. Morax? Do you think… …Was that alright?

Morax raised his eyebrows at him. <Yes. It was “alright”.>

Thank goodness… that was awkward, Zhongli muttered in his head, then shifted his attention back to the others when he realised Indarias was stealing glances in his direction. “Indarias, do you recall what I told you about my personal space?” he reminded her and accepted the fiery hug that he promptly was given.

“Thank you,” Indarias whispered in his ear.

Zhongli smiled. “Should you really be thanking me for this?” he wondered. “This is your punishment, after all. Do not let me down now.”

All of the yaksha shook their heads, except for Xiao who was standing by quietly again, staring into nothingness. After they promised to meet his expectations and swore to both prove their worth and protect him properly going forward, Zhongli detached Indarias from himself and cleared his throat.

“Now then, were there any other requests?” When none surfaced, he continued while inwardly sighing in relief. “Then I am afraid I am quite busy today and must move on to my next appointment. Three of you should return to your other work, while two shall accompany me for a walk through the city. One at my side, while another keeps watch from a distance.” He looked at Xiao, who still seemed somewhere lost in his thoughts. “Xiao. I will appoint you as the person to accompany me on the streets, as part of your punishment.”

Xiao whipped up his head, bewildered. “How… is that punishment?”

“You dislike crowds, no?” Zhongli pointed out and gestured him to follow as he started making his way out of the room. “And you find it unpleasant showing yourself in front of the people and conversing with them. I fail to see how this is not a punishment. Were it not one, I would not have chosen you.”

<You’re running again,> Morax pointed out as he made it out of the door, leaving the yaksha behind without any flair, hiding behind his busy schedule to make a hasty retreat.

Oh so now you feel the need to comment on my actions. Zhongli frowned, scowling.

Morax chuckled. <Shutting up.>

Chapter Text

Once Rex Lapis and Xiao’s footsteps started to fade, the four guardian yaksha left behind looked at each other for a moment silently before Bonanus let out a short hum of a laughter to break it.

“That happened,” she commented, a smile making its way on her lips, although still cautiously.

“Who will accompany him along with Alatus?” Menogias moved straight onto business. “He did not appoint any of us specifically.”

“Then you go,” Bosacius decided for them and crossed two of his arms in front of his chest. “You have acted the most proper around him recently. I will take charge of checking the perimeter defences again and would like to have Bonanus there to assist me.”

“And what of me?” Indarias asked, pouting. “I want to go stroll the city with Rex Lapis!”

Bosacius gave her a look of distaste. Just because Rex Lapis didn’t seem to mind his sister’s antics, it didn’t mean they were appropriate. “You need to cool off. A lap around city to check on the scouting teams should do nicely.”

Indarias huffed and pouted more fiercely, but before she could think of a complaint, Bonanus changed the subject. “Brother Bosacius?” she asked, looking down at the empty chair where Rex Lapis had been sitting. “What do you think of his verdict? Are you alright with it? I know it is very different of what you had in mind.”

Bosacius shook his head. “Rex Lapis has chosen and although this punishment is not one I would have thought of, nor does it feel like a true one, this is indeed a wise solution. Do you understand why?” He clarified for his siblings. “Although Rex Lapis took heed of our words and responded as his duties demanded, it is clear we are the ones who truly think of our actions as a real punishable offence still. He met our demands in the best way he could think of and in doing so freed us to punish ourselves as we see fit.”

Menogias’s eyebrows shot up. “Punish ourselves?”

“He told us to prove ourselves, both our skills and devotion to him,” Bosacius reminded sternly, looking between his siblings. “To meet the requirements of our punishment, if we so choose, we can merely stay in the palace and do what he directly orders. And surely you realise, that if we are to not speak of it, Rex Lapis will likely rarely directly appoint or expect us to work on such things as cleaning the baths. Outside of our duties and these errands he spoke of, it will largely be left up to ourselves to determine the amount of work and what types of work we will do for him. Do you see? We have the opportunity to give ourselves exactly the punishment we view is fit of our sins.”

“Hm… you’re right,” Bonanus agreed, mind drifting off to all the things she could do to make the ache in her soul go away, little by little. “With this, we can prove ourselves through our own actions and hard work, no tricks involved. And he didn’t give us any time limit, so we don’t have exhaust ourselves with extra things either, like he worried yesterday forced labour might.”

“So you’re really going to clean the baths?” Indarias asked Bosacius, snickering again.

Her eldest brother huffed, offended, and buffed his chest. “Of course I am. I’ll scrub clean every stone in the hot springs with a toothbrush if I must,” he declared proudly, much to Indarias’s further amusement. “And that will only make up for a fraction of my behaviour merely yesterday and nothing else.”

“And what of the other part of the punishment?” Bonanus continued to question her siblings. She looked downcast at her own hands. “The training…”

Bosacius heaved out a heavy sigh. “That is a truly the most fitting price we pay for our failures.”

“It is not the first time Rex Lapis chooses to fight with their own hands,” Menogias pointed out. “Many an emperor we have accompanied into the wilderness, to fight off monsters and bandits alike. Although it is not a path I wish for this Rex Lapis to trek, it is not unwise for him to understand his own powers better and be able to protect himself should things go wrong.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Indarias declared and bit her lips together. “But… you’re not wrong. And we just have to work so that he never has to use the skills he acquires.”

“Exactly.” Menogias smiled at them briefly before he schooled his face back to a neutral one, to get his mind ready to work. “I should get going to catch up with Rex Lapis and Alatus. I will leave the rest to you all.”

“Do you think Alatus will be alright hanging out with the people?” Bonanus asked, slightly worried, but also undoubtedly happy with how things had turned out with their youngest sibling.

Bosacius huffed, smirking mischievously. “Oh, absolutely not. But it will be good for him.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Alatus so shaken up,” Indarias pondered, thinking back to their earlier discussion. “’My trust is mine to give’, hmm? I don’t remember hearing that before… But it does sound like something lord Morax would have said.”

“I can take a guess when it might have been too,” Bonanus said quietly and chuckled a little at the memory of the moment Rex Lapis managed to break through all of Xiao’s defences in one fell swoop. “Dear little brother sure did not expect that. Rex Lapis is pretty shrewd to throw lord Morax into the mix to get through to him. For someone who dislikes lauding his power over others, I wonder if he realises just how much his words can weigh.”

“He likely does not, if I had to guess,” Menogias said, turning to walk out of the room and looked over his shoulder at the others. “We have our work cut out for us, trying to get to understand him properly. Let’s not waste any more time and get to it instead, shall we?”

.

A while later down in a scarcely lit stone corridor, in front of a door hidden seamlessly to fit into surrounding rocks, Zhongli stopped next to the last illuminating crystal stuck into the wall. He had chosen one of the hidden side entrances out of the palace. Instead of going through the temple and meeting all the people gathered there and on the Yujing Terrace, this route would bring them to the stone steps through the cliffs that would take him at the bottom of the stairs to Bubu Pharmacy. Xiao followed closely behind him and Zhongli sensed Menogias nearby as well.

But before going out, he turned around to face Xiao, who shifted slightly more into attention now that he was looking at him.

Zhongli offered his hand towards Xiao, palm side up. “Your hand, Xiao.”

Xiao’s eyes widened a fraction and for a second, he seemed to calculate what was expected of him and what would happen, but then he obediently if cautiously offered his own hand to be held. Zhongli had to be the one to close the final little distance and he wrapped his fingers around Xiao’s palm, turning it around and bringing it up, until he had unhindered access to the yaksha’s wrist.

It was then that Xiao understood what he was doing. “There is no need to worry, my lord,” he assured quickly. “We’ve made certain our levels of karma have remained safe for mortals.”

“Just a precaution,” Zhongli said and pressed his middle and index fingers against the underside of Xiao’s wrist, following Morax’s silent instructions carefully. “You rarely descend down to the streets for prolonged periods of time. Most of your contact with humans is with the millelith, who have trained both their bodies and mind as part of training to withstand your presence longer. Although we cannot make this visit long, I do not want to take a risk, even if small.”

Finding what he was looking for, Zhongli closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of a string of energy that seemed to climb its way up Xiao’s arm and spread towards other parts of his body. It was hard to think that such a thin string could carry the weight of hundreds of battles.

Xiao said nothing, simply watching his lord like a hunting hawk. He felt an almost uncomfortable tingle in his hand that Rex Lapis held. It wasn’t anything that his lord did, as much as it was his own gut reaction to have anyone peer into him like this.

My trust is mine to give.

It had made him mad. Or, for a moment, it had.

It still threatened to, but he just wasn’t sure anymore. After hearing those words again, he couldn’t shake the thought of how dare this person share into such an important moment in his life.

But… only someone like Rex Lapis could.

His surge of emotions subsided almost immediately, when he remembered that only this person if anyone had the right. Morax was… gone. What remained of him changed faces and personalities as fast as humans fleeted in and out of this world. Xiao had sworn to always remain loyal to the emperors, because that was the least he could do for his god. But although most adepti had accepted that Rex Lapis, even with the personalities changing like seasons, was now their god’s true form, Xiao had never managed to shake the feeling that things were simply not right. That they would never again be.

In all honesty, Xiao himself had been surprised how vividly that unpleasant feeling… that anger had surfaced. He… did not know where it had come from. He had not expected to even have that kind of feeling still festering inside him somewhere. He had thought that he had erased any traces of that turmoil by now. He would remain loyal and do his duty in the protection of Liyue, until the day he no longer could. But there had never been an emperor he had met so far, who he had truly felt deserved his personal devotion and respect. Not the same way he had felt for the one who had saved him and given him a new life. No, the respect and reverence he gave to the emperors was… duty. His purpose. His contract. No one had ever managed to touch that void that had been left behind with Morax’s passing.

So having someone like this Rex Lapis touch its edges so suddenly and naturally, it almost felt… like a threat to him. Not that he would ever let it show.

None the wiser about the thoughts of his companion, Zhongli opened his eyes again and nodded, satisfied. “Everything seems to be in order, as you said,” he admitted, letting go of the hand.

“Of course,” Xiao replied retracting his hand. “The past thousand years have been one of the most peaceful periods in Liyue’s history and I’ve had all of my family and the rest of the yaksha to share the burden with. The blessing is nowhere near its limits. I will make certain no harm comes to your people because of myself.”

A smile passed on Zhongli’s lips and he hummed a little, bothered laugh. “’My people’… right.” He cleared his throat and turned around, touching the hidden stone door to open it to the daylight outside of the mountain. “Let us not waste any more time.”

“Rex Lapis, are you… certain you want me accompanying you so close-by?” Xiao asked and quickly clarified when Zhongli glanced at him, raising his eyebrows. “I am not trying to escape my punishment! Just… my presence will likely attract more attention to yourself. If you intend to go unnoticed among the people, I believe I should keep my distance.”

Zhongli shook his head gently. “I’m going down there to meet and speak with them, not to observe from the shadows. It is more reassuring to have someone by my side.”

Xiao hesitated, but nodded, minutely. “Then I shall accompany you as you wished.”

The day was clear and beautiful. Which was a given: the adepti had worked their magic to keep the skies clear for the special event. Zhongli stepped under the sun from the small, hidden tunnel at the mountain side, into the open for anyone to see. No one was close enough to notice them right away, but that changed soon as they started walking down the stone stairwell. Soon they passed a pair of friends, who were taking a break and sitting on the stone steps. The discussion between the two young women faltered into gasps after the first passing glance to check who had walked by. Zhongli glanced briefly over his shoulder to see their expressions, but tried not to stare nor linger.

His lack of reaction made Xiao frown. “Is this truly wise, my lord?” Xiao asked quietly, already getting uncomfortable before they had even attracted much attention. As he followed after Zhongli and they descended further down the stairs, they passed by and left behind a rock of cover after another between them and the people of Liyue going about their day. “You have made no announcement of your arrival, lack the appropriate number of guards and are not dressed as expected of the emperor in public. Rex Lapis is not expected to simply appear like this. This is not how things are done.”

“It is now, Xiao,” Zhongli replied, sending the millelith guarding the bottom of the stairs to scramble, bewildered, into attention, when the man realised who had spoken.

“Your majesty?” the confused guard squeaked quietly in shock, glancing around the people flocking the area, before returning to him. “I haven’t… no one… what…?”

“Oh, um: at ease, sergeant,” Zhongli replied, but his arrival had already been noticed by too many people for his words to make a difference.

A wave of hushed gasps spread around them like a ripple as he and Xiao stepped properly to the paved paths. Zhongli’s steps faltered for a second, before he collected himself and continued walking, steeling himself. He had expected these expressions people were giving him. They all had seen him day before yesterday and even if only from afar for most, still everyone seemed to recognize him immediately. He was guessing there already were many portraits of him trading hands in the city. Still, the reaction was more immediate than he had thought. Or perhaps, widespread was the word.

“Is that…”

Whispers from all around, all the way from the wooden sidewalk and the stairs above, were carried clearly into his ears, as he and Xiao made their way forward. Everyone nearby stepped out of their path and backed away.

“It couldn’t be…”

“Why is he here?”

“No way…”

“Is it really?”

“Why?”

“How is that even possible?”

“Could it be an imposter?”

“No, but that is a real adeptus with him.”

“Isn’t that… one of the five guardian yakshas?”

“Wait, could it be, the Conqueror of Demons?”

“Here? That’s absurd…”

“But they’re right here, in front of your own eyes.”

“But he’s dressed so plain too. Surely the emperor would not appear to us like this?"

“Who else could they be? I’m sure it’s him. You saw him at the coronation him as well.”

“I know, but why?”

“Stop staring: what if he sees you?”

“Maybe something happened?”

“But if something did, shouldn’t he stay in the palace where it’s safe?”

“Why else would Rex Lapis be here?”

“Where could he be going? Should we follow him?”

“Are you out of your mind: no!”

“Maybe he is here to pass judgement on someone personally?”

“I can’t believe I’d get to see him up close like this.”

These reactions are to be expected, Zhongli told himself, trying to remain composed at the face of all the stares he was given. In fact, this was exactly as he had feared might happen. Except… a little worse. The leisurely atmosphere was gone and only his and Xiao’s feet moved along the streets on a way forward, the rest only shuffling about to get a better look or step out his way. More people gathered up on the stairs above and by the entrance to pond area, as the word of his appearance spread like wild fire on dry hay.

Zhongli’s heart sunk. Yes. This was worse than he had feared.

The emperor had not appeared before the common folk in a century without a cause like an official event and never had any of them just taken a walk here like he wanted to. People had covered their mouths in shock and waited with bated breaths what he intended to do or where he was going. If he tried to meet any of their eyes, they bowed down their heads quickly and avoided his gaze. Most only seemed curious or severely confused, but he saw people praying as well, which he supposed he should have expected in his case. Confusion and uncertainty were palpable in the air, along with the hushed whispers of both warning and awe that they could simply be in his presence like this. To be able to see him up close, like it was one of the wonders of the world. Which Zhongli really wished it wasn’t… His predecessors had certainly not made this easy.

Zhongli took a deep breath as he continued walking along the pathways across the ponds. Judging by this reaction, he needed to adjust his initial plan. Honestly, he had expected someone would come and talk to him, even just to ask why he was here, thus opening him a path to start communication. But everyone clearly expected him to take the initiative. Which he wasn’t opposed to per say, but he couldn’t just tell everyone to “don’t mind me, just passing by” or say “good day to you all. What lovely weather we have today”. That would not only be a clumsy start, but also serve to make everyone even more confused.

He was realising how impossible his wish to casually walk amongst the people again one day seemed. It was simply not allowed. What he needed now, was a distraction. Something to help him break the silence naturally.

Any ideas, Morax? Zhongli asked in a silent conversation, trying to think up how to start a real one. He kept walking, slowly making his way towards the main streets, in hopes of seeing an opening, and tried to offer little looks and nods to the people who stepped out on his way or peeked at him as he came closer, but what little they accepted, was received like it was little miracle, rather than simple polite gesture. It was incredible stifling.

<If it were me, I would simply stop to tell them my business,> Morax admitted. <You are far more discreet than me. I am used to standing in front of people and sharing my thoughts.>

That was indeed something Zhongli wasn’t the best at. He was a listener at his core. He could carry on a conversation with anyone about almost anything, but rarely did he initiate one, unless there was some kind of outside prompt. And he needed one again now, to chase this uncomfortable attention of the crowd away from the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t directly reprimand the people for a completely natural reaction. He had to remember that he was the unnatural part of this scene. Moments before their arrival, he had heard the carefree chatting, laughs and murmurs of the people: all now hushed, because no one knew what was okay to feel, say and show in his presence. There was no etiquette for this situation for anyone to rely on. Since he was the cause, he needed to be the one to fix it, or nothing would change. Because of him…

Morax groaned as if Zhongli’s branching thoughts were giving him a headache. <Get out of your head. Being in here is my job.>

A playful sparkle, a glint of sunlight reflecting off of a surface of water past the railing of the bridge over the ponds, caught his attention, distracting him from his thoughts.

“Hm?” he let out, stopping to watch the rusty koi splash the surface of the water again, before continuing its swim further away from the pathway. The sight of it made him look around the pond, bewildered. There shouldn’t be any rusty koi in this pond, where had… “Is there… more fish in here than usual?” he wondered aloud, mostly to himself, catching a sight of a new fish which ever direction he looked.

“The…” a cautious whisper responded from his left and Zhongli turned to look at a pair of what seemed like a husband and wife, as the wife continued speaking, despite the wide-eyed looks she was given by everyone else around. “The Liyue fishing association gathered them here. As an exhibition, our lord Rex Lapis.” She stole a glance in his direction and immediately bowed down when she saw he was looking at her. “For the festival,” she clarified. She spoke softly and quietly, but didn’t seem afraid.

“Oh? Interesting,” Zhongli replied, thinking of ways to alleviate the woman’s uncertainty of talking with him somehow, now that someone finally had. Beside him, Xiao was sticking to his side like there was some kind of a magnet keeping him a certain distance away but never far. The yaksha was hiding it well, but Zhongli could tell that Xiao was way more bothered and out of his element that even he was and most likely channelling his energy and attention to the thought of guarding him to keep his cool. Still, while the yaksha was clearly uncomfortable, Zhongli could not back away now. “So, they have turned these ponds into a public aquarium for a time? A novel idea, although ill-advised long term, for the sake of the fish themselves. It is nevertheless a fascinating sight and an idea that deserves some thought for a more long-term solution. Seeing and learning about different kinds of aquatic life up close could be used for both leisure and educational purposes. Would you happen to know where I could find one of the organizers? It would be interesting hear of the work that went into setting up this exhibition.”

The woman had been peeking up at him, blinking in bewilderment as he kept talking, but her breathing seized up and she bowed her head further down when Zhongli’s attention returned to her fully. “I… I do not know, your majesty. I’m sorry.”

Zhongli quickly raised his hands, trying to gesture her that no offence was done. “Please, you are merely here to browse the sights yourself, no? I will not fault you for not being privy to the details. Thank you for telling me about the exhibition.”

He saw the woman’s eyes widen a fraction. Was that… good? At least the awkward silence had been somewhat broken now. Or had he rambled a little too much? Again… Hu Tao would probably make fun of him for months if she were here…

A sound of someone running closer turned Zhongli’s attention away from the bowing woman and the man who was holding onto her shoulders.

“Is it…” one eager voice panted.

“It is!” another joyous voice exclaimed and, uncaring about the awkward atmosphere, two children rounded the last few adults in their way and came to a stop in front of Zhongli.

“Oh, it’s you.” Zhongli smiled a little, recognizing two small boys, who he had not seen since his formal apology to the kidnapping victims. Just then the older sister of the two caught up with them and grabbed their shoulders, no doubt intending to scold them. “As energetic as ever I see,” Zhongli commented before she could.

“It’s more than ever!” the older boy declared.

Before he could go on, the adults nearby interfered.

“Children, do you realise in who’s presence you stand?” a man nearby hissed in warning, while another man, who was clearly a miner by trade, crouched down next to the two boys and put his bulky arm across their chests to stop them from getting any closer.

Zhongli frowned. “Please, there is no need for that. Let them approach.”

The way the miner looked at him when he quickly retreated, was way too surprised for Zhongli’s liking. With the children free, Zhongli then shocked the entire crowd by taking the last step to close the distance between him and them, and crouching down to meet with the two young boys at their eye level. In his peripheral vision, he saw the miner’s wide-blown eyes flicker between himself and the children, trying to understand what was going on. Seeing his reaction, Zhongli wondered just how many preconceptions and traditions he was breaking. He knew he wasn’t supposed to kneel in front of anyone, but crouching to talk with someone wasn’t the same as kneeling: it was just good manners. He was sure that Morax would stop him if he went too far against the norm. So far, the god seemed content to sit back and let him “do his thing”, as Morax would likely phrase it.

Sitting lightly against the heel of his foot, Zhongli tried his best to disregard the shocked reactions of the adults, in favour of talking with the children who had come to him so eagerly. “It’s been a while,” he greeted them. “How have you been?”

The youngest of the three had clearly been affected by the adult’s interference and looked at him nervously, uncertain what to do. But lucky for Zhongli, his older brother seemed to have no filter.

“Great!” the older of the boys replied, easily shaking off any warning signs. He started gesturing with his hands to bring his explanations to life. “The palace was super nice, but it’s great to be home. We’ve been busy and there’s so much to do! We forgot a window open when we came to see mom after she was rescued and there was so much stuff in the living room. But we cleaned it together and the granny who lives near us baked some really sweet buns with lots of the yummy brown powdery stuff. We helped her roll the dough up like this around fruits to make… um…”

“Pastries,” his sister groaned, rolling her eyes. “Also: cinnamon.” She glanced at Zhongli and Xiao repeatedly and fidgeted, biting her lip as she spoke. “Your uh… divine majes—”

“Yeah those! We helped granny make them so she could sell them at the festival and as thanks we got to eat them for free!” the boy explained, grinning proudly.

“Oh? That sounds like a job well done.” Zhongli said, smiling at their enthusiasm. He wished he could have been as blind to the stares this conversation was receiving as the child seemed to be… “And the recipe sounds delicious indeed,” he encouraged. “May I know what fruits you used?”

“Apples!” the older boy replied, positively beaming at the opportunity to talk about their baking adventure with someone. “And sunsettias but I liked the apples more.”

“Granny also tried some peaches. I liked them the best,” the girl commented, momentarily forgetting that she was trying to act like the mature one of the three. “They were soft and super fluffy.”

“They were really good,” the youngest chimed in now, encouraged by his siblings. “And granny said I was really good at rolling the dough.”

“You were? Do you enjoy baking?” Zhongli asked, smiling at the embarrassed nod he got in response. He took a moment to just listen the children talk about their baking adventure, letting them explain to him about some rolling techniques and how much cinnamon was too much (which the children did not agree on). “Sounds like I’ve missed out on some true delicacies.”

“Granny still has her stall up today! She said she got enough sales to buy more fruits,” the older boy continued. “And granny has a lot of free time anyway.”

“Should we procure some of those pastries for you, Rex Lapis?” Xiao asked, surprising Zhongli by actually joining the conversation. From the edge in his voice, Zhongli was guessing the yaksha was trying his best to do his part of the interaction in their plan today, as foreign as it was to him. Seeing Xiao even try felt special, however. Zhongli had not expected him to talk unless talked to.

To return to the yaksha’s question, Zhongli smiled at the tether for moving his agenda forward suddenly presented to him. “General, aren’t you forgetting why we have come?” he reminded gently, with an edge of teasing, standing up and turning a little towards Xiao. “Why would I send someone on an errand when we can simply go buy some?”

“Really?! Granny would be super happy if you bought some, mister majesty sir,” the older boy beamed happily. “She is always saying you’re a great person.”

“Are you here to come see all the cool festival things?” the youngest child asked tentatively.

“I am indeed,” Zhongli said, following with interest how the expressions around him were changing as the conversation went on. Morax especially seemed to enjoy watching them shift from shock to bewilderment to pure interest. Zhongli could almost hear the shattering of preconceptions now. He did spot some looks that seemed to be disgusted at the atrocious manners the children had when talking with the emperor, but Zhongli was determined to change those as well. He felt so much more comfortable now that someone had spoken to him first and asked questions, giving him something to work with. “Everyone has worked so hard to make such a wonderful festival. How could I not wish to see it for myself?”

“Wait, actually?” someone gasped from further away a little too loudly for their own liking, judging how quickly that person blushed and tried to hide away.

“There’s a lot of real cool stuff!” the loudest of the three exclaimed, unbothered. “Can I show you?”

His sister smacked him on the head. “Could you be any more obnoxious? You’re being super rude to a super important person. Mom would be having a stroke if she heard you.”

Zhongli raised his eyebrows and glanced past the three children at their mother who was indeed looking like she might faint any minute now, but was too busy being shocked to do so.

“Your majesty,” the young girl addressed him before Zhongli could point out to the children that their mother was in fact there to hear them. “I’m real sorry about my brother.” She curtseyed and pressed on her brothers’ scalps so they’d bow. “I know it’s super special to get to talk with you. We’re thankful—”

“Huh, why is it special to talk with him?” the older boy asked, wiggling free. “I thought people want to talk with him a lot.”

“Yeah, and that’s why it is special: there’s a like a huge queue all the time,” the girl replied, trying to grab him again and scowled when he dodged. “I’m sorry, Rex Lapis, sir. I swear he can behave.” She sent a glare at her brother. “He just chooses not to.”

Zhongli laughed. “I am sure you have your hands full as the eldest.”

“Yeah, I do,” she admitted. “But they’re not the worst.”

“So hey, can we show you all the best places? Please?” the older boy spoke up again.

Zhongli glanced at their mother, nodding in her direction so that the children would finally notice her presence. “You are out today with your mother, no? You should ask her if you had any plans already. It was not nice of you to run off on your own.”

The two older children gasped.

“Mom!” The older boy instantly ran to latch onto his mother’s arm and pointed back towards Zhongli. “Look! Rex Lapis came to visit. Can we hang out with him? Please?”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I really, really tried to stop them,” the daughter followed, taking her mother’s other arm and her apologetic tone was dropped in favour of excitement. “But it happened already so, yeah: can we? I promise I’ll look after Nanu and Nono better this time! I was just distracted by the cute fox plushies just now.”

Zhongli felt sorry for the mother, who was looking frantically around at the people who were now looking at her and her children, some worryingly judging. He did not want to cause these people any trouble because of his presence. Chatting with him like this aside, walking with him on the streets would make this family gain some possibly unwanted attention. The mother seemed to be even less keen about standing out than he and Xiao were. Which was saying something…

He was about to ease the mother’s stress, when he noticed that the family’s youngest was still looking up at him very thoughtfully, while his siblings talked with their mother. “Is something bothering you? Or is there something on my face?” Zhongli asked him.

The young boy frowned. “Didn’t you have horns?”

Zhongli’s eyebrows shot up. The coronation of Rex Lapis was always burned into everybody’s minds, even those who had been further away. Still, he hadn’t expected anyone to bring it up. “Yes,” he answered anyway, seeing no harm in it. “I do.”

The boy tilted his head and his eyes bore into his hair, trying to see. “Where?”

“I do not have them out right now,” Zhongli explained and seeing that the boy was confused, he elaborated, crouching down again to speak with him. “Think of it this way: do you always take an umbrella with you when going outside, even when the sun is shining?”

“No?”

“It is the same with my horns. I do not have them out unless I need them.”

The boy looked disappointed and didn’t seem to quite get it. “But they’re super cool,” he complained, pouting a little, his lips puckered. “Why wouldn’t you want to be cool?”

“Uh…” Zhongli was honestly unsure how to answer that, so decided to dodge the question. “Would you like to see them?” When the boy’s eyes positively sparkled, Zhongli obliged and wondered how many more traditions and customs he was breaking by showing his divine features off like this. Based on the reactions of the adults (and Xiao): quite a few.

But the boy seemed happy at least. “That’s so cool!”

Zhongli chuckled. “Why, thank you.”

“Rex Lapis?” the mother of the three children spoke now, having come to her youngest. She bent down, seeking the youngest boy’s hand into hers. “Your divine majesty,” she addressed Zhongli again, keeping her head down. “I apol… I mean… Thank you. For speaking with my children.”

Zhongli stood again. “The pleasure is all mine. It is I who should be thanking them, for helping me break the stifling atmosphere my arrival here caused.”

“Moooomm,” the older boy tugged at her sleeve, nagging. “Can we?”

“We’re… on an errand, remember?” the mother reminded her children before she braved a look up at Zhongli. “We have… medicine to pick up. Your majesty…” she hesitated, looking for words.

Zhongli stepped in to help her, seeing as declining a god was not something she could do without his input. “Of course. I do not wish to get in the way of your plans, especially if they concern someone’s health.” He looked at the children. “Thank you for offering to show me around. But you should complete your important errands before playing.”

“Aww…” the youngest mourned the verdict. “But…”

“No buts,” the daughter chimed in, helping her mother to persuade her brothers. “Granny is expecting us back to help. Rex Lapis himself is telling us to do a good job, so no arguments.”

“Stop acting like you aren’t as bummed out as us,” the older boy pouted.

“If you are expected to return to your neighbour’s stall to help, perhaps I will see you again. I simply must come over to taste those pastries you successfully advertised,” Zhongli reminded them. He had an approximation of where the stall might be located, thanks to knowing where the family lived because of the kidnapping case files he had read.

His suggestion helped turn the frowns on the children’s faces back into smiles and the mother thanked him again, before ushering her children to get going. The pharmacy was in the opposite direction of where Zhongli was headed, so he wished them a good day and received a torrent of suggestions of where to go and what to check on his way from the children, before they finally left.

Behind him, Xiao shifted on his feet. Now that the loudness and eagerness of the young humans had passed, a more awkward atmosphere was once again threatening to spread, although it was different than before. The looks people were giving them were much more openly curious and relaxed now. “Rex Lapis?” Xiao inquired quietly, unable to read what his lord might do next. Actually, he had given up even guessing… He had internalized how completely he was out of his element when Rex Lapis had started having a casual conversation with a bunch of children about some human food that did not sound very appetizing to him. Why would anyone put fruit on bread?

A little smile tucked persistently at Zhongli’s lips as he turned to talk with his companion. “I’d imagine this was not the last hurdle we have to cross, but shall we keep going?”

“Rex Lapis?” someone new spoke and Zhongli turned to look at a young man who cautiously approached him. The man bowed to him but raised his head again while he talked, instead of talking to the pavement. “If I may: is it true? Is your majesty here… just to see the festival?”

Although the man spoke respectfully and with an even tone, Zhongli could feel a hint of concealed excitement in the air, thanks to his horns. Morax had told him that for an accurate reading, he’d need the horn to touch something, but close proximity seemed to work well enough when the feelings were strong.

“That is correct,” Zhongli confirmed, turning to glance up towards the palace above them up the mountain side. “I have heard wonderful things about it. Besides, this is a once in a life time occasion. It would have been a shame to spend it alone in the palace.”

“How… how long will you be staying with us, your majesty?” an elderly man asked now.

“I have a couple of hours, during which I’d like to eat something,” Zhongli said, fixing his eyes back to the people who had now dared to gather around him. “Do you have any recommendations?” His question caught the people off guard, even more so when he specified that he did not require a five-course meal from the Liuli Pavilion, but wished to sample on other, more domestic goods. By that point, him and Xiao were not leaving anytime soon because more and more people had gathered around them. Some were even trying to strike a conversation with Xiao instead of him. At least, although a fairly tight circle, it wasn’t a very crowding one, as people still kept some distance from them by instinct. And Xiao was now standing closer to his side, sending warning glares to the people who got too close. His caution was slightly unnecessary, even with the people gathering closer.

Still, they were getting nowhere fast if this continued.

“Thank you for all your suggestions,” Zhongli attempted to stop the rising bustle. “Could you allow us to pass, so that I may go check on them myself?” At his words, a few people in the crowd quickly took the lead to usher the others to get out of their way and make a path.

“To think that I could stand in the presence of both Rex Lapis and one of the Guardian Yaksha in my old age,” the elderly man mused to himself as Zhongli thanked them for the path and made a move to leave. Zhongli could only imagine what meeting with an emperor (and a god, he reminded himself) like this was like.

“Rex Lapis!” a woman reached out from the crowd towards him as he was about to walk past, undeterred by the little growl that emanated from Xiao. “Please bless my new business venture! I’ve been praying to you every night to make it succeed.”

Zhongli frowned and raised his hand in a rejection. “I must decline,” he said firmly. He had very few ideas about maintaining a policy or divine agenda, but there were few things he understood needed to be made clear. “I am not here to offer any blessings nor to offer advice. Your prayers will reach me, that I can assure you. But Liyue has always been built upon hard work. You could say that my blessing to you is creating and maintaining a fair and just environment where such opportunities to make your fortune exist. It will still be up to you to make that opportunity your own. As it is for everyone in this nation. A divine blessing would mean little, if it were to undermine the work put in on building everything we have today.”

The reaction to his speech were mixed. Some people seemed to agree, drinking in his words as the truth. Some people looked like they had just been blessed with some divine wisdom. While some seemed dejected, like the woman who had asked the question had also robbed them of their chance. Some looked like they were barely holding back objections. The woman herself looked disappointed but ultimately relented.

Zhongli sighed a little. He knew of the pilgrimages people still made to the adepti’s home region in Liyue, in hopes of getting their blessings for everything between wealth and marriage. He would have to get used to people treating him as a higher being now as well, not just an emperor. Gods and their followers had played the most important role in defending the world from falling to ruin countless times. That is why Zhongli had always been an astute respecter of the divine and the illuminated: without them, there would be no Liyue for them to live in. But in turn, it was the people who most had kept the seven nations moving forward and developing. In a way, wasn’t it his turn now, to labour in the background so that the people of Liyue could keep reaping the rewards?

Zhongli cleared his throat. “Now then, if you’ll excuse us.” He turned to Xiao and gestured him to come along as they started walking. “Was there anything among the suggestions that caught your interest, general?” he chatted, in an attempt to lighten the mood again.

Xiao looked at him confused, like it was weird for him to even ask. “I do not require human food.”

“That may be true. But food is much more than a simple consumable for biological needs,” Zhongli insisted, realising to his delight (and perhaps a little belatedly) that Xiao was the constant prompt at his side to start making casual conversation, that he had felt he had been missing. Although, he had a feeling that Xiao would appreciate his revelation of this less than Zhongli himself did. Nevertheless, he guided the yaksha to walk beside him instead of behind him, so it would be easier for them to talk. “Food is like a conduit to bring people together and help them understand one another. Dining is a social construct pivotal to any society and food itself is also a form of comfort, that can offer a stopping point in a busy day: a moment to sort your thoughts or enjoy simpler things by yourself, or meet with friends and family. It is a wondrous thing, that should be appreciated outside of its more readily apparent practical applications: able to both lift the mood and give one a peace of mind. It is something that you can both share with others and enjoy for your own sake. In addition, food can teach us much of a nation’s culture and its people. You should sample at least, and perhaps you find you learnt something new. Either about yourself or others.”

Xiao looked like he did not know what to do with himself. “…As you wish, my lord,” he replied, not sounding convinced at all.

Zhongli relented, allowing the yaksha to trail at least a step behind him to give him even a sliver of comfort. Punishment or not, he did not want to be too demanding of him when Xiao was clearly out of his element. “Although I wish it, I do also wish that would not be your sole reasoning.”

Xiao twitched minutely and Zhongli could see how furiously the yaksha was trying to keep up with and understand him. “I will… try.”

Zhongli smiled, letting a brief chuckle escape and stopped to look around as they emerged from under the gate that brought them to the main street. “Excellent. Now: what shall we do?” he pondered, watching as his entrance to a new area brought him to sights of more people. Although, this time it was enough of them that not everyone immediately noticed or stopped because of him. The news of him being here to check on the festivities must have also been travelling in whispers ahead of him, because he saw a lot less confusion and worry about his appearance, compared to his initial one. Perhaps there was a chance yet that they could actually get somewhere without being stopped every step by someone. A few stalls along the street already caught his… “Oh.”

“Hmm?” Xiao looked up at him when Zhongli groaned and brought his palm up to his face. “What’s wrong, my lord?”

Zhongli sighed and rubbed circles on his temples with his fingers. “I did not bring any Mora…”

While Zhongli dealt with his idiosyncrasies, Morax was content to hang back and observe. He had sat down on the porch of the space within, leaning back against the frame of the sliding doors. Closing out his senses to the artificial ones created by his mind to supplement his existence in this space, he had focused entirely on the outside world and what it offered. And where as Zhongli had been focused on who ever he had been talking with, Morax had been free to observe the peripheral vision and the sounds other than the ongoing conversation. Zhongli’s experience of the interactions was still shared with him fully, so he could concentrate on things outside of what the human mind could pinpoint accurately outside of its primary tasks.

And he had found that he enjoyed that very much.

He relished in seeing the reactions of the crowd when his vessel had knelt down to talk with the children: how their eyes were opened to a world of new possibilities as old boundaries were shattered. He savoured how the sparks of worry and concern melted away into looks of wonder and little gasps, when Zhongli met the children’s loud and rude behaviour with patience and little laughs. He wondered should he share with Zhongli how some people looked at him or would it make his vessel too self-conscious. Morax was still baffled how blind his vessel was to some of his natural charms and how Zhongli kept thinking that he needed to keep proving himself to others for them to accept and listen to him. Accepting adoration did not come to Zhongli naturally, still making him incredibly bothered and causing him to overthink everything. Perhaps it was for the best that Morax kept those blind spots in his vessel’s awareness to himself for now. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he watched with a sense of pride how his vessel was finally given a chance to prove himself: letting Zhongli forget for a moment that he was here and do what came to him naturally. Which was more than enough for Morax, despite of what Zhongli thought of it.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make this festival more according to your preferences, Rex Lapis,” apologised a ministry of civil affairs worker who had worked with Keqing in decorating the streets.

“On the contrary. I think it is excellent,” Zhongli assured. “The people of Liyue took matters into their own hands in my absence, despite the recent turmoil, and created something together that can truly be called their own. I am honoured to have something like this be the celebration for my ascension. And I wish everyone to know that.”

Other than inspecting the crowd, Morax enjoyed catching glimpses of Xiao as their excursion through the city continued. How the vigilant guardian of Liyue unconsciously sought to be closer with his vessel, in hopes of having Zhongli’s help in dealing with the people that were talking to him. Oh, how completely out of his comfort zone his loyal, little yaksha was. How slowly but surely the gentleness within was coaxed out into Xiao’s voice as a timid teenager inquired if the illuminated adeptus appreciated her teacakes and he offered her his opinions. The yaksha’s attention was glued to his vessel almost at all times, part in protection, but part as an attempt to learn and understand. It was a clear spark Morax could identify in Xiao’s eyes. Watching him struggle yet persist was simultaneously an endearing feeling, as it filled him with sense of nostalgia and longing. How long ago had it been since he had last spent time with the adepti like this? It brought into his mind the memories when he had announced his decision to die to his followers. When he had told them they could never meet again as he had been. All that betrayal, anger and rejection, melted away into sadness and discord, until finally his path had been accepted, supported and understood. All of that had now brought up this moment where the stoic mask upon the face of the Conqueror of Demons started to slip as he received a flower from a little girl, flustered but accepting of change. Seeing it made Morax feel both hopeful for the future and yearning for something long gone.

“Um, mister adeptus. How do you like the streamers and flags we put up over the streets?” asked a group of young artists both boys and girls. “We collaborated and tried to make a representation for each adeptus and added them to the centre pieces. As a way of thanks for watching over us.”

Xiao glanced up at the rows of strips and triangles waving in the soft wind above their heads. “It makes the street feel cluttered. There are too many colours.”

The way the artists’ expression dropped made him freeze. “We’re sorry! We must have gotten too excited with it!”

“No, no, they’re fine and the idea is… nice, I just like more open spaces. You don’t need to take them down— wait!”

Although Morax had much to see, Zhongli did not have much to do. His vessel could not take many steps without someone or other stopping him to talk, as soon as people realised that was accepted. Zhongli was persistent enough in his exploits to make headway along the streets, browsing some wares and stalls, moving forward before the crowd could gather too tightly around to see if he liked a certain product or not, but it was still not what one would call a leisurely walk. The constant attention was hammering against Zhongli’s consciousness, keeping him high on alert of everything he did and said. Morax reached out at times, patching up the thinly stretching fortitude where he could. Now was not the time to break or run. Zhongli handled every single interaction presented to him with calm and patience, offering the people both his compliments and his frowns, but Morax could feel how tiredness seeped into him as their walk continued.

“Rex Lapis, would you like the taste the tea blend I made?”

“Please, check on crafts I made. I made them in your honour.”

“Um, your majesty, not to be rude, but: why are you wearing such plain clothes? Aren’t you worried what people might think?”

“The manners of some of these youngsters in your presence. How utterly disrespectful. You should not be so accepting of such behaviour, my divine lord, it’ll only spur such ruckus on. Allow me to help clear these rude individuals away from you.”

Still, the trip wasn’t all about navigating people’s adorations and confusions. Case in point, when Zhongli got his horns briefly stuck on the ceiling of a stall because he had forgotten he had them out. Or when he was faced with a very adamant group of salespeople willing to argue with their archon that he did not need to pay them anything, during his own coronation festival no less. It was situations like those that gave both Morax and the people of Liyue perhaps the best look at how their newest emperor operated. Although it wouldn’t have worked in many cases, looking back to his previous vessels, something like this at a start of a reign could have done wonders for some of the emperors and the people of Liyue they had ruled. The longer they spent on the streets, the more Morax wished they had done this sooner. When the people of Liyue realised that their emperor was completely fine with casually interacting with them, it caused an atmosphere of what Morax best could describe as cautious excitement. It was thrilling to watch it develop and although he knew that there were some people out there who would undoubtedly seek to take advantage of his vessel’s kindness, well: that was what he would be there for.

“An… interview?” Zhongli repeated with a frown at enthusiastic Fontainian reporter who had jumped on the occasion to speak directly with him.

“Yes! Just a few questions even, if your majesty could,” the young lady who had introduced herself as Charlotte spoke gleefully, with a sparkle in her eyes. “I can see the headlines now: The Meeting of Gods and Men – An exclusive peek into the travels of the divine among the populace. Oh, or how about this: A Descension Within the Ascension! A Day in the Life of Rex Lapis.”

“Gods?” Xiao commented with a distasteful frown and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “There is only one god here.”

“Oh, but: we have to bait a sequel, you can never know,” Charlotte pointed out. “I mean no offense, of course, and I promise to handle everything with absolute professionalism.”

“Um…” Zhongli hesitated, not enthusiastic to help in the writing of either of those articles. He grabbed onto the tether of advice Morax gave him eagerly. “I’m afraid I must decline. If you wish to arrange an interview, please file an official request for it through the ministry of imperial affairs. That being said, I will not chase you away, should you wish to linger in my presence during my visit here. As long as you do not disturb us, you are free to stay and observe, provided you agree to let the ministry review your article, should you write one. However, please refrain from taking pictures. Put your Kamera away, if you would.”

It was only once that the peace of their trip was disturbed. Two men had gotten into an argument over a dispute of ownership over some item or another and where one had hired a lawyer to solve the issue, the other was having none of the offered solution. And now, thanks to too much free time because of the festival and pent-up frustration about their issues, they were both drunk. And of course, as Morax should have expected, Zhongli felt the need to step up when the millelith trying to resolve the scene struggled and the men’s aggressions turned towards the lawyer between them instead, who was also trying her best to calm them down by talking and failing. That was the one and only time Menogias made an appearance during the walk, jumping in to restrain one of the men while Xiao handled the other, before the two could even think about bringing down their fists.

“Are you alright, miss Yanfei?” Zhongli asked and guided her to take a step away from the now restrained and quickly sobering up drunkards.

“Wh-what the…” Yanfei stuttered, reeling in how her situation had abruptly changed. “Rex Lapis?!”

“Pardon my intrusion. But perhaps it is best you solve this case when all parties are sober again.”

Just before their time run out, Zhongli and Xiao navigated their way to a lonely stall on Chihu Rock, selling rolled-up cinnamon and mixed fruit pastries. There, they were greeted by an excited group of children, much larger than expected, because the three who had invited him here had apparently called all their friends. After the hordes of mainly adults to speak with, talking with children was both an exhausting end to their trip (especially for Xiao), as well a refreshing change of pace. Their unadulterated enthusiasm for his presence was touching, as soon as Zhongli got over himself enough to accept it. When one young girl asked to touch his horns and he could feel her unmasked glee through her fingertips, it was impossible for Zhongli to not be affected by them.

“Rex Lapis, Rex Lapis! Mom said that I could come see you, but that I would have to be really respectful and absolutely not try and hug you.”

“Well… it is true that you shouldn’t force someone to be affectionate,” Zhongli tried to navigate through giving appropriate parental advice to the best of his ability. He gestured towards Xiao, who really looked like he felt he did not belong among the children. “My companion for instance doesn’t like getting into close contact with strangers. Please give him some space.”

The children talking with him tilted their heads. “But do you mind? Can we hug you?”

“Erm…” Zhongli glanced at the adults further away watching the scene, wondering what they would think. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind it. But your mother—” He was then promptly group-hugged. Crouching down to talk with them as he was again, it was quite the tidal wave closing around him.

“Yay! You’re the best, Rex Lapis. I don’t get why is everyone so nervous around you.”

“Yeah. Mom said that you would always be on our side, but now she acts like you’re scary or something. I don’t get it.”

“If someone is being mean to you again, you can come talk with us! We always take care of bullies together and we have a foolproof plan.”

“Will you come see us again?”

“I…” Zhongli choked a little on his words and their arms. “I’ll see what I can do.”

When he then got past the children, it took Zhongli some time to convince the praying elderly woman that he really wanted to sample her baking. And he needed even more time to have her accept that he had liked it. Morax watched thoughtfully as his vessel soothed the crying, overwhelmed woman with his words. The children were also helping out, encouraging their nice neighbourhood granny to cheer up. At the end of it all, Zhongli was much more tired than either of them had expected by the time Xiao teleported them away from the people. But it was the good kind of tiredness that came with a realisation that you had accomplished something through your efforts. Although its effect was not quite what it had been before, not being the most efficient way of relaxation for now at least, they both agreed: they could do it again. They had proven it possible for the emperor to mingle with his people freely. Who knows, perhaps one day, such a thing could be so ordinary of an occasion that people would simply wish his vessel a good day with smile while passing by, instead of the swarms of attention today. Perhaps one day, Zhongli could again walk on the streets and go unnoticed and unbothered.

Morax found himself hoping that could be the case.

When they got back to the palace and Xiao was dismissed from Zhongli’s presence, he was given the order (suggestion) to take a break and pick himself a room to settle in from the second level of the palace. As he watched his lord depart for his next appointment with the injured soldiers in a hurry, Xiao forced himself to not voice a complaint about how he did not need a rest.

Huffing, he departed for the level of the palace where the emperor’s family usually resided and picked a room that seemed good enough. He could always move it, if someone else wanted it or if he ended up getting too rowdy neighbours. Not that he would spend much time in here in any case, he determined as he shuffled around the room now his own. But he supposed he could use it to freshen up if needed and to store the few things he owned. Which consisted of a change of clothes, weapons he usually carried in his subspace and some talismans he didn’t always wear. And a flute. So really, only the clothes would be kept here, as everything else he always carried on his person.

“Alatus,” Menogias called from the doorway, knocking on it. “How are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Xiao asked with a rough huff and turned to his brother from the window that opened towards the Harbour. He had picked one of the rooms higher up so that he could see over the rooftops. “I was about to join Indarias in patrolling the perimeter.”

“I was wondering how your walk with Rex Lapis went,” Menogias clarified and smiled a little at the little scowl he received. “You might as well practice answering that question with me. You know the others will ask.”

“You were there the whole time,” Xiao noted, frowning and crossed his arms. “You know what happened. Why are you asking?”

“Because I can’t see inside your head.”

“Well, you don’t need to.” Xiao huffed and walked past his brother to exit the room. “You already know I don’t like crowds. I only did what Rex Lapis expected of me.”

Before Menogias followed after his brother, he glanced at the little glass of water Xiao had set on the windowsill, with a lone tiny flower leaning against the rim inside. A tiny spark of adepti energy circled around it, gifting it extra vitality to keep it from wilting. Deciding not to comment on it, Menogias followed his brother to their next assignment.

.

Zhongli ended up stretching his time working with the healers to its limits, until he barely had the time to clean himself up and change clothes for the evening ceremonies, let alone have even a light dinner. Ganyu assisted him during the final preparations and made sure he ate at least a few bites before the ceremonial bells that marked the climax of the festival were sounded and they had to shuffle to their places.

The finale of the Ascension festival always included some type of a parade that would circle the streets of Liyue. In some cases, Rex Lapis had accompanied the parade. That had last been the case two emperor’s ago, when the 26^th Rex lapis had been carried down the streets so the people could greet him. Zhongli had wanted absolutely none of that. After greeting the people and thanking them for the festival, he gave his blessing for the parade to start and watched the musicians and gathered performers depart.

As soon as that was done and it was acceptable for them to depart from their posts, Ningguang asked for his attention and led him away through the halls of the palace’s outermost levels.

At the edge of the governmental facilities rested a large area separate from the rest on an outward jut of stone overlooking the city. On top of it, a magnificent set of buildings with architecture that rivelled the palace. This was the Jade Chamber: the office of the Tianquan. Ningguang had expanded it greatly ever since she took over its ownership and it was now over twice as large and complex of a structure than it had been merely a decade ago. A direct path from the palace led here as the only official way to reach it. It was this structure that Ningguang dreamed of once flying above in the skies of Liyue.

“I heard your majesty caused some commotion down in the city today,” Ningguang started a conversation, musing over the intel she had received. “Something about a most unusual lack of proper etiquette and safety precautions.”

Zhongli made a bothered sound. “Have I troubled you?”

“Haha, no, you’re free to do as you wish with your public image,” Ningguang said with an amused cadence. “Although, I will admit that it would have benefitted us to at least warn the millelith beforehand, so that we might have had more hands ready to handle the commotion.”

Zhongli grimaced. “So I have troubled you.”

Ningguang chuckled. “Again, no: not really. I am certain the millelith who were on duty had the chance to build plenty of character today.”

She was leading him towards the front balcony of the chamber, where Zhongli could only see some movable screens that hid whatever was in store for him, when a loud bang from towards the city caught their attention. Another bang soon followed as another firework was launched into the sky and sent sparkles raining over the city.

“Drat…” Keqing huffed under her breath, most likely not realising Zhongli’s hearing was good enough to hear her curse. Aloud she said. “Looks like we didn’t make it.”

Ningguang hummed, not looking bothered by the fact. “We knew it was a tight window to begin with.” She gave Zhongli a soft smile and waved her fingers, instructing him to follow along. “We’re right there in any case. This way, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli tore his eyes away from the fireworks and met the Tianquan’s gaze. “Lady Ningguang, before I forget. I have been meaning to offer an explanation for my behaviour yesterday.”

“Shh,” Ningguang hushed, her tone a little scolding and turned to continue on her way. “Not now. Leave such topics for another time, your majesty.”

Zhongli glanced towards the fireworks one more time, prompting Keqing to speak up behind him. “The parade has been equipped with a host of fireworks to be launched at short intervals as they continue on their way. Unfortunately, since we were unable to reach our supplier in Inazuma under the present circumstances, it can only be a few fireworks at once. But they have enough to launch a few at a time the entire way along their route, so we can enjoy the fireworks and watch the parade proceed from the balcony.”

They rounded the screens set up on the Jade Chamber’s balcony and were greeted to a set of tables and a group of people standing around them, but before Zhongli could concentrate on identifying any of them, one of the people demanded all of his attention with a charge into his personal space.

“Surprise!” Hu Tao said brightly and took his hand into hers. “Are you surprised? Come on, at least a little?” she insisted and pointed towards the fireworks. “You’re late. I didn’t know being an emperor came with a side of tardiness.”

“Your… surprise is successful,” Zhongli admitted and then looked around the other people now. He had sensed that there were a lot of people present behind the screens, but he was surprised to see who they were. The Qixing were there as well as some other high officials, which he had expected. But among them he saw familiar faces: like his coworkers from the Funeral Parlor and his favourite storyteller as well as Yun Jin and her friend.

“We had prepared to host a tea ceremony here with you and the Qixing while watching the fireworks,” Ningguang explained, taking a step ahead to watch the next firework that illuminated the sky and taking out her pipe. “But a word reached my ears that you had planned to skip dinner to augment your schedule, so I took the liberty to expand the premise to a full course meal. On Captain Beidou’s suggestion and with Director Hu’s help I also expanded the guest list to include some more people you are acquainted with.”

Hu Tao gave his dumbfounded look one of her more mischievous giggles. “See, I can still surprise you. Best not let your guard down, your majesty. Come on, this way. Take a seat. I’ve been positively dying to try this food.”

Zhongli was seated at the end of the central table, the one closest to the round edge, although still a safe distance away from the drop down. The seat was sideways towards the city below, allowing him to follow both the end festivities down below and see the other two tables where people dined nearby. For a moment he simply sat there, drinking it all in, watching another rain of sparkles fall over the city and listening to the music from down below.

“Once the parade has finished, we have invited Miss Yun and Mister Tian to perform for us, as we have been told you’ve long enjoyed their performances,” Keqing explained and took a seat at his table, along with Ningguang, Hu Tao and the rest of the Qixing. “But that is still an hour or so away. In the meantime, shall we eat, Rex Lapis?”

“All of the preparations were rather hasty and unfortunately we had to cut a lot of corners,” Ningguang admitted with a nod. “It might not be much, but I hope you will enjoy an evening with us, as our gift to you.”

Not much?

Not much?

It was so much. Too much. Perhaps on paper a dinner with friends while watching a fireworks show (that would have alone been enough) wasn’t that special, considering many of the people involved. But Zhongli did not have the same standards as them. He had been overwhelmed once because Hu Tao had bought him a birthday cake and thrown an impromptu party at work. This…

Morax… Zhongli begged as he felt his chest tighten.

<No,> Morax replied mercilessly. <Feel it. All of it.>

So, Zhongli had no choice. Morax could truly be a cruel god when he wanted to.

Thank you for fanart again ♡

And some more fanart ♡

Chapter Text

“My apologies for the wait.” Zhongli nodded to the two illuminated beasts waiting for him in the study. The moon was high and the although the city still celebrated, most of its corners were quieting down. He had made it here much later than he had expected.

“Hmh. One is not surprised in the least,” Cloud Retainer noted, nodding back to him in greeting as Zhongli closed the door. “It is not an inconvenience. Merely some extra time for one to examine one’s findings. One is proud to proclaim one’s report will be more comprehensive and longer than it would have been in the morning.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Zhongli admitted and turned to look at Moon Carver. “Have you two taken any time to partake in the festivities these past few days?”

“Human festivals are hardly a place for one to prowl, especially in times like these, when a lot of work is to be done,” Moon Carver replied with his low rumbling voice. “But one has watched over it from afar when time permits. However, most of one’s time today has likewise been spent on the opportunity to further one’s work. Although the moon is high, one hopes you yet have the energy to listen, Rex Lapis.”

“I do,” Zhongli assured and went over to the desk were the relevant documents and items had been gathered. “But since you have both worked hard on your tasks and I’ve already made you wait a long day, let us not delay any further, shall we?” Sensing a shift in the energies of the room he blinked in surprise and turned to look from the assortment of materials back towards the adepti. “Oh,” he managed to utter, witnessing his companions now in human form. “This is a surprise.” Holding much pride in their illuminated forms and status, these two did not often don their human guises, even when interacting with Rex Lapis. Cloud Retainer was already a rare occurrence, but Moon Carver almost never appeared in front of someone in a human form.

“Pay it no mind, some things are merely easier with many hands to sort through them and opposable thumbs,” Cloud Retainer dismissed any further comments, correcting the glasses on her nose, and stepped up to the table. “One would first like to discuss the nature of the artefacts we have managed to gather from our enemy’s stronghold.”

Zhongli listened carefully as she recounted her findings.

Their first topic was the dark bracelets that caused massive destruction upon being broken: craftsmanship that trapped condensed abyssal taint into materials that were apparently foreign to Teyvat, most likely created by using alchemy. The unnatural mixture of them now held that chaotic force inside in a confined shape. Once broken, it would spill uncontrollably and explode out in all directions, consuming everything it could on its way. Like a too brightly and eagerly burning fire that spread and consumed all of its fuel in an instant if let out of its confines. They had been lucky to have been able to stop it both times it had happened now.

The bracelet itself worked like a hungry leech: feeding on the user’s elemental energy and using it to satiate its unending greed for more. It could be kept at bay with techniques and willpower, but if control was lost, the bracelet would feed off of its host wantonly. In contrast, with proper control the bracelet could be directed to use someone else but the user as a feeding target. How exactly this happened was difficult to ascertain without someone wearing the bracelet and giving it a try, which they had deemed to be a too risky of an endeavour.

As for how they were “specially made with Rex Lapis in mind”, Cloud Retainer had some tentative theories. How could the pull from the bracelet turn strong enough to affect connected souls and force a separation? To answer that question, she had tested out some things and figured out, that the abyssal taint within was more drawn towards certain types of energy compared to others. The purer the elemental force, the stronger it seemed to draw it towards itself. And of all elemental forces, geo had given her the strongest reaction. It seemed their enemies had not lied when they had said the artefact had been made for a clear purpose.

The purpose of separating a god’s soul from that of a human by force… Somehow, their opponents, as far as they themselves claimed, had manage to create a way and confined something so powerful within these small objects. As long as they did not know how it worked, Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver refused to let Zhongli even near the artefact, let alone have him touch it. There were too many unknown variables.

Next, there had been various mechanisms in the stronghold: tricks to opening locks or passageways, to light up areas and hide secrets. Zhongli had heard reports of the more rudimentary ones, those similar to what hilichurls might use to guards their goods. By now the more complex locks and puzzles had been tackled and conquered by the adepti to uncover everything there was to learn about their enemy. Many but not all mechanisms had already been opened and cleared out by the time they had arrived, probably by the escaped enemies trying to save whatever had remained inside, when they realised their defeat was only a matter of time.

But among the remaining mechanisms, there had been one in particular that Cloud Retainer wanted to bring to his attention: a small box with a lock that looked like a four-by-four square of tiny tiles that lit up on touch and turned off if Zhongli raised his finger off the lock or touched any tile twice.

“A pesky little thing, no?” Cloud Retainer noted, watching as Zhongli weighed the little unassuming metal box in his hands. “The lock does not follow conventional logic, so it took us a while to solve it. But it was nothing beyond our capabilities in the end.”

“So, how did you open it?” Zhongli asked turned the box so Cloud Retainer could show him. “And once you did, what was inside?”

“We had to find a pattern to draw into the tiles until all but one tile lit up and then trace back the same line we drew, in order to turn all the tiles off again,” Cloud Retainer huffed, taking the box and drawing the solution into the tiles as she explained. “It made one irritated, one can tell you.” The little box opened with a click and she handed it back for Zhongli to take a look.

Inside laid a blue pendant, secured in place in a slot welded into the metal like it had been made for this object in particular. Its design was unassuming and very simple: darkened, silvery metal holding the smooth gem in place. The little loop at the top corner that could have attached the stone to a chain was broken and the chain itself, if there had been one, was nowhere to be seen.

Zhongli weighed the box in his hand, inspecting the pendant. “Have you figured out what this is?”

Cloud Retainer shook her head. “No. Or rather, we cannot. This pendant seems to have once housed a spell or a binding of some kind. Now, barely some faint traces of it remain. Without it, it might as well be a piece of normal jewellery.” She glared down at the little box in Zhongli’s hands. “But judging by how well it was protected, it is safe to assume it must have been important. This box was locked behind two other mechanisms we had to undo to get to it.”

Zhongli’s brow burrowed in thought and he continued examining the pendant and the box as Cloud Retainer filled him in on the other mechanisms that had kept this little box safe. He could feel the same trace of power the adepti had when he concentrated, but it was like trying to figure out what a completed puzzle looked like by having only a single piece.

<There is something we could try, if you’re feeling up to it.>

What is it? I can at least try, if you think it might work.

“Rex Lapis, are you listening?” Cloud Retainer huffed, irritated how he seemed to lack attention.

“Yes,” Zhongli replied and cleared out a little space on the desk and taking out the pendant from its box. “You were telling me how you managed to crack the second lock. Good work with all of them, Cloud Retainer. You have worked fast and have been a great help.”

Moon Carver, who had been mostly silent while Cloud Retainer made her report, frowned down at how Zhongli set the pendant on the table. “What are you planning, your majesty?”

“I’m going to try and ask the stone itself, to see if we could figure out what it was used for,” Zhongli explained briefly, hoping the adepti knew about the technique enough so he would not have to try and put more of Morax’s instructions into words. Following them required enough of his concentration as it was.

The two adepti looked at each other briefly, reading each other’s expressions to try and catch what the other one thought of this. Meanwhile, the tips of Zhongli’s hair lit up once again as he gathered elemental energy around his hand and settled it to hover above the pendant. Ultimately, his companions said nothing and let him try this out without interjecting. Zhongli’s fingers traced the air above the pendant. When the pendant suddenly gleamed in response to the call for a connection, he stopped, closing his eyes.

Other than the slight glow of the blue stone and Zhongli’s hair, there was no reaction or flair to be perceived. The adepti watched him closely as Zhongli fell into a trance. The technique was not so different from the one he had used at the top of Mt. Tianheng once, to track down their enemy in hiding out the Chasm. But unlike the mountains and valleys of Liyue, this stone felt foreign. It barely responded as Zhongli tried to establish a connection enough for Morax to peer deeper in for answers. What he managed felt cold and reluctant, humming in his ears a tone very different from the rocks he knew and understood. But with some probing, their powers reached deeper within and the glow within the pendant grew brighter and vibrant.

Behind his closed eyelids, Zhongli saw a bright circle that wavered in place.

Then a tall tower, reaching towards a dark sky.

A shape of a person, walking away like a shadow travelling on its own.

A hand reaching down towards him—

Zhongli gasped himself awake, stumbling a step back and retreated his hand away from the stone. He raised and crossed his hands in front of himself, closing his fists to gather energy, then sending it out to cast a shield, all in the second of warning he had before the blue stone cracked and exploded. The tiny, sharp shards bounced off the shields that circled around the three people in the room and rained down on the floor with a tiny clatter.

Outside of a few papers that were shredded by the sharp edges and points flying about, and some scratches to the table, no damage was done, allowing Zhongli to let out a breath of relief. It turned into a sigh midway, however. Great…Now what? He felt Morax only frown in response, deep in thought.

Moon Carver looked down at the remains of the metal frame of the pendant that had been left on the table. After determining there was no further danger, he lowered the hand he had raised as an extra protection between Zhongli and the explosion. The shields circling around them had been enough, thankfully. “What happened, Rex Lapis?” he asked, turning to look at Zhongli.

“I’m trying to figure that out myself,” Zhongli replied and sighed again, looking up at Cloud Retainer who had crossed her arms and was staring intently at the remains of the pendant. “I’m sorry. I did not expect it to react to my presence like that.” He turned around to look at the now open window behind them and the yaksha who was perched on the window sill. “And I must apologise to you as well. You were not hurt, were you?”

Bonanus had just relaxed a little, seeing that there was no immediate danger, and now raised her eyebrows at him, surprised. “Me? I’m alright.”

Zhongli scanned her for any nicks from the stone shards, but saw none. “Good. I did not expect you to come in, so I could not shield you. I suppose it is a small blessing you were behind me at least.”

Bonanus tilted her head and frowned. “Rex Lapis, I think you have the workings of our relationship a little backwards.”

Zhongli blinked and then smiled briefly as his shields disappeared into little particles. “Ah, heh… I suppose you’re right. Call it… a force of habit.”

“Please do not make a habit of standing between myself and danger,” Bonanus asked and hopped inside the room, tiptoeing between the shards on the floor and crouching to pick them up. “That would make my job a lot harder. Plus, your majesty, remember that we are adepti. A little damage like this would have been easy to shake off. Even now, you’re more fragile than us.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t have been the easiest kind,” Cloud Retainer mused and tapped a stack of papers on the table that had been waiting perusal. The side of the stack that faced the ground zero of the tiny explosion had a hole in it and flipping through the stack, she found a lonely shard lodged within. The shard had cut right through the papers, only slightly jostling them out of place and finally stopped halfway through the stack. “Tiny sharp objects flying at this speed would have left behind quite nasty wounds, little though they might have been. And removing them from inside the body would have been an absolute chore.”

“I’m glad I made it in time then,” Zhongli sighed again, his shoulders sagging a little. “But we’ve lost one of our leads now, because of my carelessness.”

Cloud Retainer shook her head. “One told you already, Rex Lapis, the pendant itself was a mere accessory as it was. Having the pieces of it will be enough.”

“It is not like we learnt nothing from this,” Moon Carver pointed out and ran his fingers against the metal frame left on the table. “Look at this. It has bent inwards, towards the explosion and appears more darkened now. One dares to presume it was not the stone itself that rejected you, Rex Lapis.” The adeptus turned to him again. “Did you learn anything before it happened?”

Zhongli nodded. “A couple of things,” he replied, sharing with the others what he had seen and also what Morax had sensed. “This is only a speculation from my part,” he added while they discussed his findings. “But this pendant might have been used to stabilize the portals in the Chasm. The white ring I briefly saw resembled the type I could see while perceiving their locations. It also aligns with what Morax managed to sense in the little moment he had. It could also explain why the pendant no longer holds power and why it was heavily protected.”

“Their portals would have been instrumental for their strategy, that is true,” Moon Carver followed the same train of thought. “And we made sure to close all the portals for good while cleaning up. If the pendant did indeed hold them steady, then it was this little thing we back then fought against.”

“One dares to say you offered us a plethora of new information to go by, by inadvertently destroying it, Rex Lapis,” Cloud Retainer admitted, humming to herself with a gleam of new interest in her eyes as she raised one of the shards she had collected up, to look at it against the light. “One shall do the most with what one is given.”

“I want to say that I’m glad to have been of use, but at the same time, that sounds a little off…” Zhongli admitted, hardening the skin of his fingers to help pick up the shards without getting accidentally cut in the process.

After cleaning up and making proper assessments of the damage done, they moved on to other topics. There were still a few other things Cloud Retainer wished to show him and ask his opinion for. When she was done, Moon Carver moved on to give a report about the adepti’s hunt for any additional portals hidden around Liyue. They had found a couple of them, set in a what drew a suspicious line directly through Liyue. Starting from the ones in the Chasm, they had found a few portals here and there through Lingju Pass and Dunyu Ruins and a smaller congregation around Luhua Pool, with one of the bigger portals in the mix. From there, the sparse line continued up the river all the way to Wangshu Inn, before curving towards the Guyun Stone Forest, where yet again they had found a cluster of gateways.

The adepti had forced the portals open once more, but found the spaces behind them empty or leading to the already found hideout. The only exceptions were a portal nearest to the inn, that had hosted a smaller enemy fortress, also abandoned, and Guyun Stone Forest, where all the portals had been sealed shut and soon disappeared before the adepti had managed inspect them more closely. The smaller hideout had been emptied clean of anything of value by the time the adepti had entered it. It seemed that their enemy had all but retreated from these posts, abandoning whatever they had had in mind and taken their plans with them back to whence they came. It was safe to assume they had not expected the Chasm hideout to be found and raided, and taken measures to not lose more than they already had.

The adepti were still on the lookout for more portals, but for now it seemed they had located and neutralized all there was to find. Although Zhongli was thankful that the Abyss was no longer spreading secret doors around their nation, they had clearly been setting up something much bigger: lying in wait for something that could have been much more catastrophic had they not figured out a way to detect their portals. And as of now, they had no idea what that “something bigger” might have been.

Long after Moon Carver and Cloud Retainer had finished and he had retreated to rest for a few hours before his next day would begin; Zhongli found himself sitting awake in his bed, pondering just what were they up against, what were their enemy’s motives, and just how much had they lucked out by catching onto their plans ahead of time. Zhongli rubbed his left forearm absentmindedly. He had allowed himself to be captured and been given that wooden bracelet that Morax had used to identify the type of power used to conceal their enemy’s actions. Now that he thought about it, perhaps that was the only reason he could sit here now in relative peace. Ironic, in a way. Had he been stronger or more aggressive in his approach, things might have been different. Not only that, had he and Morax found one of the other points of the now discovered line of portals, before finding the largest cluster in the Chasm, would they have been blind-sighted by an invasion through the mines while inspecting the other places, having agitated their foes? Granted, a large concentration of power was easier to detect, which had probably led them to Chasm first, but they could have well ended up finding the cluster at Luhua Pool or even one of the smaller portals in between first by chance.

In other words, they had been lucky. Starting back from all the way from how their enemy’s had first underestimated Morax’s strength enough to allow his escape before he had even come to Zhongli, they had been exceedingly lucky. And as someone who now was responsible for the safety of one of the Seven Nations, Zhongli could not count on being only “lucky” going forward.

After around three hours of sleep, Zhongli sat back up in his bed and rubbed any remaining tiredness off his face.

<There is still some time before you need to get up for the day,> Morax pointed out after wishing him good morning.

“A slower morning to think things through and get ready will do,” Zhongli replied, getting up on his feet. A walk and then breakfast in the outer garden sounded nice to him.

<As you wish,> Morax complied. <Just be sure to sleep a little more next night. Do you remember what Ping said to you about pushing yourself once?>

“That I am not immune to getting burnt out, I just have more resistance to it,” Zhongli recounted dutifully. “I know.”

<Just making sure. Now that you have ascended, a couple of sleepless nights should not be a problem to you. But that doesn’t mean we should needlessly pile them up. For now, we have bought ourselves time. Use it wisely. You’re not going to be of use to anyone if you just end up pushing yourself too hard again.”

Zhongli nodded, understanding. This was like a busy time at the Parlor: work that needed to be done, but that needed careful planning to be done correctly. He had always managed to work through those times. Although the stakes and risks were higher now, luckily, he was not alone. Doing or delegating the right tasks with the adepti to prepare for whatever could come later was one of his priorities. That is why he wanted as much time as he could to think things through carefully.

Getting dressed and walking to the outer garden to enjoy the soft breeze on his skin, Zhongli received company after a moment of city gazing, when Bonanus hopped down from above to a garden path at the edge of his vision.

“Good morning, Rex Lapis,” the blue yaksha wished him and walked closer when she was sure she had been noticed. “You truly are an early riser I see.”

“I just have a lot on my mind,” Zhongli replied, turning to her and returning her greeting.

“Anything I can help with?”

Zhongli hummed. “You already are. The things on my mind are subjects I will be addressing with your help. Or at least, that is my hope.”

“Yes,” Bonanus assured. “It’ll be my pleasure to finally be able to do so as intended. I promise to speak up a little more, if there is something on my mind as well. And well, I don’t think have the power to stop Indarias from doing the same… um… explosively, but I can try my best to make sure my brothers get the memo as well.”

Zhongli smiled a little and cleared his throat. “Since you came to see me so soon in the morning, was there something on your mind right now?”

Bonanus nodded. “Yes. I hoped to finally give you this.”

Zhongli looked down at the small, lidded box she handed to him, and took it, curious.

“It was not supposed to take me this long to finish it,” Bonanus admitted as he opened the box. “But with everything that happened since your commission of it, things like jewellery simply took a back seat. I had it ready by the time of our… disagreement. But I could not bring myself to give it to you back then. So: I offer my formal apologies for the delay, your majesty.”

Zhongli raised the earring out of its box to examine it closer. A little orange gem shimmered in the first rays of the sun, contrasted against the darker tones of the tassel.

“You managed it beautifully,” Zhongli complimented and used his thumb to close the box again, handing it back to Bonanus to use both of his hands as he put his new earring on. Its weight on his ear would take a moment to get used to, since he didn’t often use earrings, but he would manage. Especially since Morax seemed pleased as well.

“I’m happy you like it. It suits you well,” Bonanus said and nodded her head down. “Please take good care of lord Morax’s keepsake for us, Rex Lapis.”

“I shall. Do the adepti happen to know what this gem is exactly, by any chance?”

She shook her head. “We’ve never pried. I assumed he would have told you?”

Zhongli shook his head in turn. “No, only that it is important to him. If it is that personal, that the adepti are not privy to it either, I will also refrain my curiosity.”

“Rex Lapis!” A sudden shout from the door to the garden attracted their attention and they saw a nervous looking Ganyu hurriedly walking towards them. “I found you… I wish you did not disappear on me first thing in the morning, my lord. Why are up so early: did you not have a late night and long day yesterday? You did sleep, correct? No, my apologies, what I meant to say is… I trust that um… my lord is well-rested? I mean: good morning, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli chuckled. “Good morning, Ganyu.”

This new day was a busy time as well, so Zhongli was glad he had the time to take his morning slow. For starters, he and Ganyu took the time while he ate to plan out his schedule ahead several days, at least crudely, so not everything he wanted to do needed to be arranged at a moment’s notice. Of course, not everything could be planned out beforehand and there was always a chance of something coming up, but it was good to have more structure to his days and an idea of what was to come. He’d work closely with the Qixing in the coming weeks and months, until Liyue had a structurally working government again. And to figure out what his role in it all would be: how involved he would be with day-to-day governance for instance. Figuring all that out would take much of his time. The matter of the injured soldiers he could apparently already largely leave to the human doctors, exorcists and healers. The yaksha would work closely with him to figure out the national security issues. Ganyu would likely be working overtime to ensure he was up-to-date on everything and then some. And Madam Ping had taken it upon herself to manage the everyday life in the palace for him. When they would get past this clunky start, rebuild the city council, finally heal the damages of the battle in the Chasm and everyone would more settle into their new roles and tasks, it would get a little less hectic. Or so Zhongli hoped.

Today, he had new people to meet.

Rex Lapis was the set host for important international guests and although there weren’t many due to the times, the international scene was currently messy. After briefly meeting Beidou with Ningguang and officially assigning the Crux fleet to help an adeptus deliver a message to the Electro Archon, the matters concerning Inazuma were momentarily taken care of from his part. He had no news from Natlan, but at least he had managed to contact the Pyro Archon and supposedly the adeptus sent over was keeping an eye on things. Mondstadt was likely the least messy case from Liyue’s point of view at the moment, so Zhongli decided to trust that a word would come if things destabilized there again.

Fontaine, however, was a problem. The adeptus they had sent over to contact the Hydro Archon had all but disappeared. And so had the human messenger the Qixing had sent. Scouts from the border only told them of heavy rain that had been falling over the country for weeks, with no humans or animals in sight. Most people from Fontaine, who had been visiting or who had primarily lived in Liyue, had left when word had started to reach them that all might not be well in their homeland. The few who remained had received no proper word about new developments for weeks now. Some messages were apparently getting through, using some kind of a machine in the Steambird’s branch headquarters, but the messages were always short and revealed nothing, even if directly asked. Morax had no word or message from the Hydro Archon either. Everything was most concerning.

As for Sumeru and Snezhnaya, well: that was Zhongli’s agenda for today. And technically speaking, although he was meeting foreign diplomats for the first time as Rex Lapis, not all of these people were completely new to him.

“Soooo,” Childe said slowly, looking for words and seemingly failing. He rubbed his hand over his face and let himself sigh out loud. “…Is this some kind of joke?”

“I did tell you, master Childe,” Ekaterina reminded him.

“I assumed you were joking.”

Zhongli let out an awkward little laugh that hang in the air uncomfortably. “I assure you this is real, mister Childe. I am indeed here to welcome you back to Liyue and meeting you in official capacity. …As Rex Lapis,” he added, to make sure because the look of disbelief Childe still gave him.

“Excuse me for having hard time to believe that the only somewhat of a personal acquaintance I managed to make while positioned in Liyue is suddenly the mighty Rex Lapis himself now,” Childe huffed, sounding a little miffed and crossed his arms.

“I…” Zhongli looked around the throne room, where their official greeting was taking place, with him sitting on the throne, guarded by the adepti, the millelith guarding the door and the scribe and some other staff representing the Qixing seated silently on the side. “I am unsure how else to convince you.”

“Somebody, pinch me…” Childe groaned quietly towards the ceiling.

“Master Childe,” Ekaterina whispered behind him, loud enough for Zhongli and the adepti to hear. “Please keep in mind that right now you represent our homeland in front of the emperor of Liyue and the Lord of Geo. Despite your existing connection, there is etiquette that needs to be followed. I just gave you a rundown on what to do when we came over.”

Childe groaned a little again, but straightened his posture and gave Zhongli a formal, if slightly stiff, greeting, inclining his head enough for it to considered a bow. The three Fatui agents behind him did the same. “We greet you, your majesty Rex Lapis, and… I guess thank you for granting us this opportunity. We have approached you as an official delegation sent by her majesty the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, with the aim of maintaining diplomatic relations and forming a mutually beneficial network for exchanging information between our nations.”

“’Mutually beneficial’, yeah right…” Indarias huffed quietly under her breath, but Zhongli ignored her input. He knew all too well at this point that the adepti did not think highly of the Fatui. With all the trouble and black market deals they carried out in Liyue, disrupting order, he couldn’t really fault them for it. And it wasn’t like he blindly trusted Childe either.

“I welcome you back to our harbour, lord harbinger. Your ship has sailed a long way. I hope this meeting wasn’t too soon after your arrival?” Zhongli asked. After hearing the Snezhnayan ship sailing towards them indeed did have a harbinger on board and Childe of all people, he had sent a request to the Northland Bank to arrange a meeting as soon as possible.

“I was sent here with the intent to ask for an audience. Getting an invitation directly from you the first thing I got ashore certainly made things easier,” Childe replied and looked up from his semi-bow, eying Zhongli’s figure on the throne up and down, and added. “Your majesty…”

That sounded wrong, coming from Childe and Zhongli had to stop himself from cringing by clearing his throat. “If that was your intention, I trust my message has reached the Cryo Archon?”

“Oh, so you did already have a god in your back pocket when we last met.” Childe dropped his diplomat façade like shrugging off a coat. “And you used me as your personal messenger boy for the sake of convenience I’m guessing.”

“Sending a message directly through a harbinger was far more efficient and carried less risk about being found out, compared to sending an adeptus or another official messenger,” Zhongli defended himself, but it seemed that he had somewhat hurt Childe’s feelings.

“At least feel some remorse for using me,” Childe asked and spread his hands to shrug. “You practically kept me in the dark. Did I not warn you to watch out the next time you drank tea if I found out you were lying?”

“Although I had some things I couldn’t reveal to you back then, I did not technically lie to you.”

“You told me you were sent by the adepti!”

“I did. And the God of Contracts is the Prime of the Adepti,” Zhongli pointed out and, sensing a very dangerous aura emanating from the two yaksha on his side, he added. “Also, please do not joke about poisoning me. The adepti are a little on edge about that topic.”

Ekaterina cleared her throat loudly. “Master Childe.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Childe gave up. “So, what does his majesty Rex Lapis have planned for us for this visit?” He ignored Ekaterina’s side eye for his tone with ease.

Zhongli sighed, hoping Childe would not be so difficult going forward. “Perhaps we should change locations to a more comfortable setting? We have prepared a room for us to talk in private. It is imperative for both of us to learn more of the recent events in our nations, for the safety of our homelands. I am sorry I could not officially approach you about this during our last meeting, but I hope we can put that behind us now and establish cooperation.”

Childe sighed, but he seemed more relaxed. “Do you realise how much I’m going to be made fun of by the other harbingers for not putting two and two together about your identity?”

Zhongli laughed a little and stood up. “Best we plan ahead for that as well. Come. Let us move to the inner palace.”

Childe shook his head, but followed nonetheless with his subordinates at his heels. “I thought we were already in the palace. What’s the difference?”

“The throne room is part of the outer palace,” Zhongli explained as he led his international guests out of the room. “The outer palace consists the throne room and two other smaller assembly halls, the governing offices and meeting rooms, as well as the judiciary chambers of Liyue. Yiyan Temple is also technically the frontmost part of the palace and going through the temple is considered the palace’s main entrance. The inner palace is more restricted: it cannot be accessed by even the governing personnel without approval or reason, and has three layers. The one we’re heading for is the area meant for private gatherings and guests of the palace. The second is for the emperor’s family and servants and the third is considered the private area for Rex Lapis.”

“You have an entire level for yourself? That sure is one way to move up in the society: from that little apartment of yours all they to have a top-down view of the entire city,” Childe chatted. Both of them were somewhat forgetting that this was meant to be a formal meeting with their casual tones. It was hard to say which one of their attendants was more bothered by it. “Are you sure it is alright for you to tell me all of this, by the way?”

“This is not restricted information, Childe,” Zhongli replied as casually, despite the tenseness of the yaksha by his side and the awkwardness of the Fatui agents and the Qixing scribe behind Childe. “You could have found this out by researching publicly available materials.”

They continued to chat away as they moved to one of the many empty rooms of the inner palace’s first level. Once Zhongli was once again seated, on a less grand chair this time, he gestured Childe to sit on the sofa in front of him. Menogias took position be his side, while Indarias stayed outside with two of Childe’s men. Only Ekaterina and the scribe were allowed in the room with them. The adepti would bring them refreshments when Zhongli would ask for it, but for now, it was time to do official business again.

And so began an hour and a half of careful diplomatic manoeuvring. They exchanged information about what had happened in their respective countries and what were its current results. As Childe had already told Zhongli the last time they had met, someone had attacked the Tsaritsa directly and in the process of the battle, one of the eleven harbingers had lost their life. Childe now told them of things in more detail, although clearly still not giving them the full picture.

The attack had happened directly from the sky above capital city. The enemy forces had consisted entirely of rift hounds and mechanical creatures. During the commotion in the city, which drew much of the forces in the area to itself, a giant mechanical serpent had burrowed up from underground and attacked the palace’s walls, breaching them. The battle for the capital had raged two full days, before the threat was chased away. From the sounds of it, the army sounded much more massive and coordinated than what had been hiding in the Chasm.

But as it turned out, both of these attacks had been decoys, meant to weaken the defences around the Tsaritsa herself and lure her out of her own chambers deep within the palace. Childe was unwilling to tell them the details of the attack on the Tsaritsa herself, but the eight harbinger, Signora, had perished while defending her god from the attack. Childe had been appointed to return to Liyue as soon as her funeral had finished and ordered to stay there until further notice, and report back directly to the Tsaritsa of anything going on in the nation. Other harbingers had been sent to all other nations as well for the same reason. Zhongli and Morax took that as a sign that the Tsaritsa understood there was more to this situation than what was happening on national scale.

“Did your people manage to figure out anything about the attackers?” Zhongli asked when there was a pause in Childe’s explanations.

Childe huffed. “How much information do you expect us to extract from giant wolves and robots?”

Zhongli gave him a silent look for a moment before replying. “I’d imagine there are still things to be learnt. From the robots especially. Surely you did not simply melt them all together without inspections. Do you not have a few… experts on your side about the subject?”

Childe squinted at him a little. The “Zhongli” he knew should not have been privy to details about the harbingers. Childe had to remind himself that it wasn’t the same old friend that he talked with now. He glanced briefly towards the scribe in the corner, who was diligently writing their conversation down. “Put it this way, when I left home, there was none shared yet. But some of my colleagues were… intrigued, so to speak. Personally, I try to keep out of their way when something piques their interest like that.”

“Can I ask for anything learnt later on to be shared with us?”

“If her majesty so wills it.”

Zhongli exhaled slowly and looked over his shoulder at Menogias, who nodded and produced a scroll from a hidden storage, giving it to Zhongli’s waiting hand. Turning back to Childe, Zhongli continued. “Then may I perchance suggest an exchange, once more?” he asked and set the scroll on the table between them. “Sharing mutually beneficial information was your directive, no? We too had to defend our land against an invading force. But in our case, it was us who managed to surprise our enemy and drag them out of hiding. As such, we have managed to gather intel on many things I’d imagine your people did not get access to. This scroll contains a summary of things we have dug up so far. Mind you, some things in it are still incomplete and under investigation. But if we are to assume we are dealing with the same enemy, which by the sounds of it seems to be the case, the more knowledge each of our nations has, the better.”

When Childe reached his hand out to take the scroll Zhongli stopped him by pressing a finger on top of the scroll before he could take it. “Childe. Before you take this, I hope you understand my intentions clearly. I wish to form a contract with the Tsaritsa.”

Childe’s eyes widened a fraction before thinning instead and he retracted his hand away from the scroll. “So what you’re saying is, if I take this, you will next use it as a bargaining chip to demand intel from Snezhnaya and the Tsaritsa?”

Zhongli shook his head but kept his finger on the scroll. “No. This scroll is my sign of goodwill to your god. You can have it regardless. I do not expect you to answer for the Cryo Archon without consulting with her first. However, I want to you to understand what the contract I wish to establish between us entails.”

“Alright,” Childe said and looked between the scroll and Zhongli’s eyes. “So, what would you require from us? Not just the intel, I’m guessing.”

“Snezhnaya has connections with Khaenri’ah, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Khaenri’ah?” Childe repeated, raising his eyebrow. “Not my area of expertise, but as far as I know: yes, to some extent. The Regrator might know more of how it functions nowadays.”

Zhongli glanced over his shoulder towards the yaksha to see if the adepti were openly against the topic of this contract still and checked with Morax as well, just to be sure, before continuing. “From what we have learnt so far, it seems our enemies have some manner of connection with Khaenri’ah. Whether they are directly involved or simply using knowledge or assets from the nation, it is too early to say. But on the chance that the nation of Khaenri’ah is directly involved, for Liyue, who has no established connections with them, to start investigating within their borders or asking questions from the remaining people and the royal family, it runs the risk of revealing to them more of our hand than we wish, and the chance of backfiring entirely.”

“Oh I see,” Childe said, flippant but thoughtful. “So you want us to do the dirty work.”

“I can’t imagine you to be entirely unfamiliar with the concept.”

“Hah, I suppose not.” Childe leant forward and set his hand back on the scroll but didn’t take it. “So: you’d want a contract with the Tsaritsa for the Fatui to investigate Khaenri’ah’s involvement in secret and also share with you any information we find along the way about our enemies.”

“Yes.”

“And in return we would get what?”

“That is one reason I wish you will deliver this request to the Cryo Archon. I can promise you information regarding our own investigations, but lack the knowledge of what else she would want in return. Contracts rely on fairness. I cannot offer the complete terms without her input.” Zhongli reached his fingers down to the little nub at the side of the scroll, twisting it. With a click, a compartment inside opened, allowing him to pull it out enough for Childe to see the other rolled up paper within. “A more detailed account of my requests and suggestions. For her eyes,” he added, clicking the hidden compartment back shut and retracting his hand from the scroll now.

There was a gleam in Childe’s eyes, akin to excitement. “Alright then,” he said and took the scroll for himself, weighing it in his hand. “I’ll deliver her majesty the intel and tell her that Rex Lapis sends his regards.”

Zhongli wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but merely smiled a little instead to keep up appearances. “Excellent.”

After some more discussion, Zhongli called for the adepti to bring their guests refreshments and asked Childe remain in the palace for a while longer before excusing himself. He had another set of international guests to greet soon and after both matters had been handled, he had arranged a dinner where the diplomats would meet each other and the Tianquan as well, as well as have another chance to talk with him before his next appointment. Of Childe’s attendants, only one stayed behind with him after enjoying the emperor’s hospitality for the amount required by the etiquette and the adepti escorted them out. Zhongli asked the adepti to give the harbinger and the fatuus at least some privacy, despite their doubts. Even if the Fatui wasn’t the most trustworthy organization, it was still their intention to have a working relationship with Snezhnaya and the Tsaritsa, so being overly suspicious of everything they did, did not give a good picture.

Taking a deep, slow breath, Zhongli sat back on the throne. One hurdle for the day was done. He hoped the next one would prove less nerve-wracking. Speaking with Childe was so much easier in an unofficial setting. It was only Menogias with him now, Indarias having left for other duties for now. That is how much less trust the adepti put into dealings with the Fatui compared to his next guests. Having one of the five yaksha personally with him at all times was more like standard procedure for now.

“Are you ready, my lord?” Menogias asked, waiting for an affirmation before talking to the millelith at the door at the other end of the hall. “Guide our guests in.”

The millelith at the door saluted and one of them left to bring in their next international guests. Very soon after he had left, the door opened again to reveal Zhongli’s next hurdle. Childe being the Fatui was one thing: he was still someone Zhongli knew personally. These people he had never met.

“Your majesty Rex Lapis.”

The first guest to greet him was a man with black and green hair, wearing mainly greens and white Sumeru-style clothes, with a large flower pinned near his shoulder. Most notably, large, pointy black ears flicked above his head as he bowed his head down and a dark green tail swished slightly behind his feet. Morax’s well of knowledge suggested that the man might have been related to an ancient race from the Sumeru desert called the Valuka Shuna, but Zhongli tucked that information to the back of his mind for now to listen the man talk.

“Thank you for taking your time to see us. I am Tighnari, the chief officer of the Avidya Forest’s Forest Rangers,” his guest introduced himself.

“And I am Cyno. The General Mahamatra of the Akademiya,” his companion spoke. He was a stern looking young man wearing mostly blacks and purple, although he was showing much more skin than his companion, and sporting a helmet on top of his white hair. The helmet also had large, pointy ears fashioned into its design, making Zhongli wonder if the similarity between the two was intentional or a coincidence, though he chose not to ask.

“Welcome to Liyue and to the imperial palace, both of you,” Zhongli welcomed them politely. “Thank you for making the long journey here at our request. You did not encounter trouble on the way I hope.”

“We are capable of handling ourselves,” Cyno replied curtly.

“Our journey went without problems,” Tighnari assured as well and went on. “We have come here on behalf of the Akademiya after the sages received a letter from the Tianquan of Liyue requesting our expertise. I trust your majesty is aware of this exchange?”

Zhongli nodded. “You have been requested to come and help track down an underground network dealing illegal substances and help construct an antidote to the new poison we’ve encountered. The origins of the substance and the network itself have both been tracked down to have substantial connections with Sumeru. Tianquan Ningguang made the request to the Akademiya, but I will be handling the matter in her stead going forward.”

Cyno made a little grunt and frowned, crossing his arms. “Rex Lapis himself? We were told to first meet with the emperor, but I did not expect someone like you to have the time to personally get involved.” His partner elbowed him a little, likely to get him to be less blunt, not that Zhongli minded. It was actually refreshing to have someone get straight to the point. He was relying on his existing knowledge of handling clients to stay on top of the conversation, but sitting on the throne above these people was still a somewhat awkward experience. He was more used to treating guests with respect, not the other way around.

“I will likely not have much time to directly join in, that is true, but I am indeed the head of the effort, together with Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing,” Zhongli elaborated. “She will join us later, after she has finished some other matters. I do not know how much you’ve heard but, I am already quite personally involved in this matter. It is important it is dealt with quickly and decisively.”

Tighnari nodded slowly, studying Zhongli carefully, trying to get a good read on this divine vessel the people of Liyue were so excited about. “We’ve heard of the… situation. Cyno here was asked to come to gain information directly from your investigations on the underground dealership of this new dangerous substance, to help track down its origins in Sumeru. Myself, I am knowledgeable on many illnesses and poisons and their cures, and was asked to offer my help as an expert on the subject. Although my expertise is more on flora and fungi, I have some experience and knowledge on venomous animals of Sumeru as well.”

“We will be counting on your help. It will be a great asset to have some local knowledge of Sumeru’s concoctions and wildlife,” Zhongli replied, before turning to look thoughtfully at Cyno. “Forgive me asking, but I would like to return your earlier inquiry back to you. I appreciate the help you have come to offer us on this case of course, but Sumeru is having some troubles of its own as well, no? Yet the General Mahamatra was sent to another country personally?”

Cyno’s look turned serious. “I did not request the case for myself. It was an order from the Grand Sage Azar directly.  He said that since the request concerned a matter involving another god, it should be handled by me personally. I did think it odd but… he was very clear about the matter.”

“Hm… alright.” Zhongli accepted the explanation. “While you two are here, could you share with us the latest information from the nation of Sumeru?”

“Of course, your majesty,” Tighnari promised. “We were advised to give our full cooperation.”

“Thank you. Then let us talk, while we wait for the Yuheng to arrive.”

The great forest fire of Sumeru. And the presumed death of Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. Zhongli kept the information about her survival as spirit within the Great Tree of Knowledge to himself. The investigation on the origin of the fire had never turned up any suspects. The flames had started to appear and spread without a warning. The Forest Watchers had detected a fire near Gandharva Ville in the dead of night and while fighting to stop it from spreading, noticed red and orange glows light up the night between the trees elsewhere, while thick black smoke rose and filled the sky above. All across the rainforest, spreading faster than should have been possible and even across bodies of water, an environmental disaster grew faster than the Forest Watchers under Tighnari’s command could react. All residents of the forest had to be evacuated, something that in and of itself had been an enormous effort and not without its casualties, and half of the country had mobilized to quell the flames together.

During the commotion and panic, the Dendro Archon had come to the help of her people. Encouraging the trees of the rainforest, both young and ancient, to raise water up from their roots into their barks and branches, she commanded nature itself to rebel against the invading flames. But even without a willing source of fuel, the flames had refused to back down. Stopping the spread of the fires from reaching new areas, thus gifting her people the time they needed to combat it, Rukkhadevata had ventured into the burning forest, to look for the fire’s master, source and cause.

And within the smoke and flames, she vanished, leaving behind not a trace of herself. Eventually, the flames had died down, with the joint effort of people across Sumeru coming over to help and what seemed like nature itself, when water rose from the ponds and started raining down from the cloudless sky and barriers of dendro repelled the falling branches and trees. Even so, when the last embers were stumped out, their god had not returned. The last thing her people knew, was a whisper: carried by the leaves of the forest across the country, from the people fighting the fires to the far reaches of the desert.

The world ——et me.

And that was all. The Dendro Archon was no more. And the forest was left to grieve.

Although some doubted it could be so, the knowledge of it filled their minds like a message send through the Akasha terminals from their god. No words, but a feeling. Weeks later, the sages had found a small child who had been announced to be the new Archon.

Her name was Kusanali.

“We were sent to Liyue while the sages were debating the future of the Akademiya under our new archon,” Cyno explained. “The reactions to her appearance were… mixed. I haven’t met her, personally. Supposedly, she’s just a child. The sages have been rather protective of her, not allowing people to meet her. I expect they will have something figured out by the time we return.”

“The healing of the Avidya Forest in the aftermath of the fires is also still underway and will be for a long time,” Tighnari added, a frown of worry appearing on his face. “To be entirely honest, Rex Lapis, I objected to being sent here at such an important time. But Sumeru is not in state where we can let infernal strife interfere with things.” He sighed, letting some frustrated feeling leak into his voice. “Of course, the sages themselves and the Akademiya as a whole is busy in the aftermath of the death of our archon. As if the rest of us aren’t… In any case, I was requested by my teacher to make the trip in their stead. It was not time for fights, so after some debate, I agreed. But the faster I can return, the better. So, I’ll be working hard to finish our work here. But rest assured, I know that cutting corners is not the way to go about it.”

“Faster resolution would benefit us as well,” Zhongli said, nodding. These two seemed agreeable and not hard to work with so far, luckily. He still needed to see them at work and learn a little more about their characters to know how to best handle them as Rex Lapis. Like if they would be bothered by him working by their side or acting more casual around them. Adding the monikers of “emperor” and “divine vessel” to one participant in a conversation seemed to reap a little different reaction every time he talked with someone. “The more time passes, the higher the risk that either someone dies because of this poison, the substance spreads too wide for us to cut of all the roots, or the people responsible have enough time to go into hiding.”

“No worries about the last one,” Cyno said, with a low threatening tone, that carried a sense of promise and confidence. “I do not let criminals escape once I am on their tail.”

A knock on the door interrupted their door and they turned to look as a millelith soldier stepped inside and stood in attention by the door.

“Your majesty. The Yuheng has arrived to see you.”

Zhongli straightened his back and invited her in. Keqing walked in briskly a few seconds later and greeted Zhongli and then the guests as Zhongli introduced them to each other. With her arrival, they would now move over to a room elsewhere in the outer palace, that would work as a meeting room and the hub for their team from now on, to discuss the case and their cooperation in more detail. Keqing was a little annoyed for having taken so long finishing her previous task and having to make the others wait for her, so she was snappily moving things along now to make up for it. Zhongli knew that from the perspective of some earlier vessels, her way of expecting even him to do as she told would have been extremely rude. But from his own point of view, he was happy to have someone else here to help lead the conversation.

“Do you have any clues so far regarding the people behind these dealings?” Cyno asked as they were making their leave, deciding to use the time they walked to start working.

“We have identified a few persons of interest,” Keqing replied.

“Names as well?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” His face scrunched up in thought. “If I have names and get some more updated information about the poison, I already have in mind who to start asking more details from when I return to Sumeru. Let’s just say that as long as big sums of money are involved, she’ll likely know about it even if she isn’t personally involved.” His eyes darkened a little. “And if she is involved, well… That might become the bag of Mora she finally learns to regret.”

“If you already have a person in mind, that is very helpful,” Keqing admitted. “These people are new to Liyue, so the people who would usually be knowledgeable among our informants have been struggling to make significant progress. The current international crises are not helping the situation. Although we’ve found new leads daily and captured some people for interrogation as well, the ring leaders of this operation are as elusive as clouds. No one seems to know their true identities or whereabouts. It is frankly a little frustrating.”

Cyno grunted, nodding knowingly. “I know the feeling. I too tried to catch fog once. But I mist.”

Keqing opened her mouth to say something but didn’t quite know how to react so she closed her mouth to merely frown at him. Zhongli looked over his shoulder back at them, similarly confused. And inside his mind, he could feel Morax cock his head as well.

<…Huh?>

Next to Cyno, Tighnari buried his face at his palms. “You did not just do that…”

Cyno didn’t seem bothered by their reactions. “I was merely attempting lighten the mood a little. Surely there is no harm in that.”

“We’re here to work. And in front the emperor of Liyue, really?” Tighnari seemed to disagree. “Are you trying to ruin Sumeru’s reputation?”

“Of course not,” Cyno huffed, not understanding why his friend was making such a fuss about it. “It is beneficially for our work to break the ice a little.”

“How so?” Zhongli asked, curious.

Cyno looked at him sternly. “In my line of work, I often have to interrogate people and deal with tense situations. And if you’ll allow me to point out, your majesty seems like exactly the kind of person who is overthinking everything they say and do. I am merely trying to speed up the process of us working proficiently together.”

“While that’s a profound thought, I can’t help but feel that you simply couldn’t resist the opportunity when it presented itself,” Tighnari sighed. “Wait, is this some new venture into practical psychology someone told you about?”

Cyno hummed, sounding subtly proud of himself. “I red it from a book black home and it blue me away. I know yellow it too.”

“Oh for the love of—” Tighnari stopped swearing when he caught a of glimpse of Zhongli’s smile. “Rex Lapis, please do not tell me you actually found that funny…”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Zhongli assured with a little chuckle. “But I can’t help but appreciate the thought and effort.”

<I… think I am too old for this. Was that a joke?> Morax frowned, wondering when he had fallen so behind on modern trends of comedy. <A literary one then? So… yellow is…>

Morax. Please just… don’t.

Chapter Text

While the duo from Sumeru was starting and setting up their work with Keqing, the millelith once again came to Zhongli to bring someone’s presence to his attention. This time, his guest was quite a bit less formal, however.

“Come on, please?” Hu Tao pleaded even as Zhongli frowned at her. “It’s not every day we’d have time to eat lunch together.”

“Except that I in fact do not have time to eat lunch together with you, director,” Zhongli pointed out, glancing towards the closed door further away down the corridor where his guests and Keqing were making plans. He had taken Hu Tao a little further away to talk to not disrupt the work of the others. “I have international diplomats to host and will be having dinner with them.”

“Ooh, international? Wow, look at who’s getting comfortable with being all important now,” Hu Tao cooed, teasing. “Can I join in on that then, as your family? I was planning on asking you to come over to Wanmin Restaurant with me, but that works too.”

Zhongli’s frown deepened. “No, it does not. And even if I had the time to join you for dinner, I cannot just walk into Chihu Rock as I am to have a meal.”

Hu Tao scoffed. “Why not? You’ve already tipped your toes into meddling with us common folk, haven’t you, oh divine vessel? Don’t think I haven’t heard of your excursion to town, even though I was busy readying a banquet for you. My, you’ve been the talk of the town. A new, dashing emperor who walks the streets, mingling with his people, sampling earthly goods, gliding his divine fingertips over the products made by mortal hands and frolicking—”

“Can we please save rumours about me for at least another time?” Zhongli stopped her, groaning and more than slightly embarrassed. He did not want to hear how Hu Tao would have waxed poetic about his walk through the city. “Frolicking”, really? It’d be for the best they did not explore this topic further, for the sake of his peace of mind. “In any case the answer is no.”

“Even to me joining you on dinner here?” Hu Tao tried again, smiling sneakily.

“Yes,” Zhongli sighed, tired. “Listen, these are important guests from different nations. This is also a chance for them to talk with me personally over various matters. Matters that might be confidential, so no outsiders are allowed.”

“Oh boo,” Hu Tao complained and pouted. “And just when I made a cool friend too. He would have fitted in nicely with all your other international friends.”

“You made a new friend?”

“Yes!” Hu Tao grinned. “He is a travelling bard from Mondstadt. I caught him on the streets this morning making a song about you of all people. We’ve been hanging out all day!”

Zhongli sensed dread… And the deep sigh Morax made all but confirmed his suspicions.

“Oh, that gives me an idea!” his boss continued happily. “How about we come to perform at your dinner party? It’s been a while since I got to flex my rhyming skills and he could have debut of his new Rex Lapis song too.” There was dangerous glint of excitement in Hu Tao’s eyes. “I just know we would absolutely make your day. What say you?”

Oh make his day they would alright… Morax, what are we going to do with Barbatos?

<I’m reconsidering my old approach…>

Hu Tao poked him. “Soooo?”

Zhongli caught her finger. “No. But… Perhaps you two could join me together in the evening instead?” he suggested with a little sigh. He did feel a little bad rejecting her, nor did he wish to be overly rude to Barbatos, despite of Morax saying that the two of them knew each other well enough that the other god would just laugh about it and let it slide. “For a private performance and some actual time to talk.”

Hu Tao laughed. “Aww, I knew you’d come around. Admit it, you’re curious about that song he made. It’s a good one, I tell you. Better when I’ll have the time to make an accompaniment.”

“You know I’m not,” Zhongli pointed out. Hu Tao knew perfectly well how Zhongli felt about standing out. “But I do have time in the evening for you and it would be… rude to exclude him.” Why did the time between his special meal times today seem like the easiest part of his day suddenly? The time for the appointed dinner with the palace’s new guests was fast approaching. “I’ll inform the chefs that we’ll have guests in the evening as well. Will you be alright with work around two hours after sundown?”

Hu Tao waved him off. “Like I would not accommodate my schedules for you. I am the boss, remember? I can decide to get out of work early even if I did have something going on.”

“You could stand to be a little more consistent about it at times. Remember, that I won’t be there anymore to help out whenever you need. Speaking of which: my situation hasn’t been causing any problems for the Parlor, has it? Have people been bothering you?”

“No, not too much. Sure, there has been many people who’ve wanted to see where you worked and hear all sorts of tales and have their curious questions answered. But I am more than happy to tell people stories about you. I’ve definitely had a lot of new customers interested in our deals, thank you very much.” Hu Tao saw the disapproval in his face before Zhongli managed to say anything. “I’m not promoting anything actively with your new gig, don’t you worry your worrywart head. I don’t know if you’ve heard this but: Rex Lapis happens to be pretty famous without me doing a thing. I’m pretty sure I could sell about anything you’ve touched as relics to some people I’ve met. Not that I’m going to, I have standards. Plus, the bet payout was quite nice.”

Zhongli felt bad for all his previous coworkers for having to deal with his new reputation. “Has someone blamed you for cheating on the bets? I can deal with that for you.”

“Oh my, imperial protection,” Hu Tao joked, but shook her head. “But it’s fine. There have been some who have been rude about it, sure. But the official story is that no one knew until all bets were already placed and reminding people of that usually works. I can play it off as knowing better than anyone that you had what it takes,” she chuckled.

“I’m fairly certain you in fact did know better than myself,” Zhongli admitted. “But that is good to hear.” He then frowned at her, one more time. “Should I be worried about these stories that you’ve been sharing about me?”

Hu Tao skipped a few steps away, turning around and smiling to him over her shoulder. “I only tell the best stories, don’t you worry.”

“That actually makes me worry more…”

“Relaaaax, your majesty,” Hu Tao said joyfully, gesturing pointedly at the location of the deepest frown on his face. “I don’t want any extra trouble for you and I know an emperor is kind of important for the country so not getting in your way is my new personal rule. So: no embarrassing details or personal stuff.” She had skipped all the way to the closest corner of the corridor and waved to him goodbye. “Promise. See you in the evening, Zhongli. You too, your holiness.”

Zhongli shook his head as she left, saying his own well wishes after her with exasperation. But it was nevertheless nice to talk with someone who wasn’t handling interactions him with silk gloves and layers of etiquette. He had a feeling talking with both Hu Tao and Childe would be refreshing going forward. Hopefully Childe’s position as a harbinger wouldn’t interfere too much with their chances to talk. Zhongli really wanted to have some people around who did not treat him as a god all the time. Ironically, at least he had Morax for that.

<I did point out quite early on that if we remained formal with each other, it would get stifling fast. I am glad how quickly you adapted to that request,> Morax pointed out as Zhongli walked back to the door to rejoin the meeting with his guests and the Yuheng. <Also, I would not fret too much about this the new song Barbatos is apparently making of you. Although he is a little too partial to alcoholic beverages, there is no denying that he is an excellent performer. As long as he remains sober enough, that is.>

Would excluding wine from the menu be a bit too direct of a tactic?

<There would be no end to the complaints.>

Then perhaps something vintage or rare, not to be enjoyed in large amounts.

Morax sighed. <You’re free to try that. I’m not expecting much though.>

The guard outside of the room stood in attention as he came closer, but just as the man reached out to open the door for him, static in the air alerted Zhongli to the presence of another.

He raised his hand to signal the guard to not open the door and looked to his right. “Yes?”

Bosacius teleported into sight. “Rex Lapis. I have come to report, that we have managed to uncover the mystery behind the tracking beacons. Whenever your majesty has a moment, we wish to share the details with you. It will not take much of your time.”

Zhongli glanced towards the door that separated him from his guests. He thought about it for a few seconds and then nodded back to Bosacius. “If it will not take long, I do have moment right now.” He turned to look back at the human man by the door. “Please relay the information about my longer delay to the investigation team. The Yuheng has a good handle on the things here and should something require my immediate attention, general Kapisas can come and find me. I will be back as soon as I can.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the guard replied professionally.

 “The primary briefing room,” Bosacius mentioned their destination to them, waiting for the guard to confirm as well, before he then led Zhongli down the hallway towards the room where they had held the war council about the battle in the Chasm. The distance was short, so they simply talked while walking the short distance over, instead of teleporting.

“What have you found?” Zhongli asked and Bosacius grunted, growling a little in response, clearly vexed. “Something troublesome, I’m presuming from your reaction.”

“Not so much troublesome now that we have discovered their tricks,” Bosacius replied. “But in poor taste and quite time consuming.”

Before Bosacius could elaborate further, a member of the Qixing staff working on the evaluation process of the new city council walked into sight from another door near them. Surprised to see her emperor and war marshal upon exiting, the worker greeted them in surprise before asking if she could quickly update Zhongli on the process of their work. Zhongli agreed, as long as she’d walk with them at the same time. Now a group of three, they took a connecting corridor and a turn to reach the right area of the outer palace. The report from the staff member was short and clear, so they only needed to stop for a short moment upon reaching the right door for her to finish. When she bowed and left back to her work, Bosacius opened the door to the briefing room and they walked inside to meet with the other yaksha present.

“Rex Lapis,” Indarias uttered, pleasantly surprised. “You came so soon. I thought you had guests?”

“I do. But I have a few moments while they plan their moves going forward with the Yuheng,” Zhongli told her and looked at the map of Liyue Harbor itself now spread on the table. “I was told you tracked down the beacons and that it was somehow in poor taste. What have you discovered?”

A little squeak made him look to his left in confusion. Bonanus held up her hand towards him and the owner of the mysterious high sound clung its little paws tighter around her hand as she moved. A brown and black weasel had attached itself onto her palm and wrist, its breathing fast and nose shivering, attempting to hide itself against her fingers as Zhongli turned towards them.

“Animals… my lord,” Bonanus explained, looking at the critter clinging on her arm like she was the only thing in this room keeping it safe. “They’ve attached some manner of tracking spells to small animals and birds. It explains why the beacons were so unevenly spread out and almost constantly moving. We’ve found seven so far.” She looked pointedly over her shoulder towards the corner behind her, making Zhongli follow her gaze. There were lidless crates and little cages by the wall, covered with dark blue cloths, lined up by the wall, all of them silent.

“The enchantment itself is rudimentary and easy to dispel,” Bosacius took over the report. “It is a basic tracking spell, set on detecting a specific target. How exactly did they figure out how to target lord Morax however, is in turn a cause for further investigation. Even we would not know how to do that. For now, we are working on making certain all of the beacons are found, while simultaneously taking steps to prevent them from forcing more animals to work for their plots.” Bosacius scowled towards the silent crates and cages. “As I said, my lord, this in very poor taste. The animals were highly agitated and aggressive, not trusting even the adepti until we managed to dispel the enchantment. Afterwards…” He nodded towards the frightened weasel on Bonanus’ hand. “This is the result.”

“They were hurting, my lord. The spell prevented them from functioning normally and caused them constant pain,” Bonanus explained, petting her finger against weasel’s cheek. “After it was dispelled, they’ve became frightened and passive, and as you can see, they keep hanging onto us adepti, distrustful of everyone else, even other members of their own species.”

A shuffle of cloth and loud meow brought Zhongli’s attention to Indarias as she set aside one of the blue tarps and lifted a cat out from one of the crates. “This is the biggest creature we’ve found affiliated with this incident so far,” she said while arranging the cat on her arms as it settled to hug its paws over her shoulders, meowing quietly. “Most of them are little birds, like finches and sparrows.” She nodded towards the covered cages. “We’re debating on what to do with them.”

Zhongli looked between the animals for a while, then turning towards the rest of the blue cloths, frowning and exhaling some emotions out slowly as he walked over to the birdcages.

“Alatus is currently leading the effort to track down more potential beacons,” Bosacius added to the report, while watching Zhongli kneel down to lift the corner of a cloth up to peak underneath. “Be careful with them, my lord,” he advised, just as the extra light into the cage made the two birds inside chirp and scramble away from the light and by extension Zhongli, escaping against the back wall. Although they tried, they seemed unable to fly.

“Ideally, we’d like to return these creatures to the wild and back to their normal lives,” Zhongli said, slowly offering his fingers through the cracks of the cages to the birds that shivered and, as if flinching every now and then, beat their wings against the wall and the floor. “But if they act like this, that will be impossible.” He sighed. “First the miasma in the Chasm and now this against animals who have nothing to do with this. I agree this is leaves a foul taste in my mouth.” He tried to speak softly, watching the birds relaxing a little when they sensed the power within him, as they did with the adepti.

“Rex Lapis, we do not have the time to worry about every single critter in this nation,” Bosacius said matter-of-factly. “Euthanizing these creatures is the easiest way to go about this.” He sighed at the face of the two glares immediately directed in his direction. “But I know my sisters heavily disagree with this option and going forwards with it would be painful for me in turn.”

Zhongli followed silently as one of the birds inside the cage now made its way to his offered fingers. Climbing on top with some difficulty, its talons wrapped around his finger and it huddled against the thin bars of the cage, trying to get closer. Now certain that his presence had the same effect on the affected creatures as the adepti’s, Zhongli lifted the little hatch on the door and opened it. The finch on his fingers beat its wings, managing a little lifted hop to his other hand and immediately huddled into the little nest made by the cup of his hand. The other bird had also now made its way over to the opened hatch and Zhongli offered his other hand to it to climb on.

“I’m glad they like you too, your majesty,” Bonanus admitted, smiling at the sight of the little birds relaxing in their lord’s presence.

“Please do not agree with our idiot brother,” Indarias pleaded, hugging her arms around the cat.

Bosacius sighed. “I’m only trying to be rational. As the person in charge of security of this nation I have to be able to prioritize between targets to protect. I admit that animal cruelty should not be condoned, but we cannot use resources to save every little critter we come across.”

“What do you suggest we do with them, my lord?” Bonanus asked.

Zhongli frowned at the way the latter of the finches attempted to hold his finger with its little beak as it kept breathing heavily and shifting its legs and wings. “The teapots,” he said after a moment on contemplation, turning to look at the yaksha. “If the presence of our powers eases their stress, adeptal domains should work as places for them to try and recuperate in peace. There would be no predators, poor weather, or other threats, nor shortage of food and water inside either.”

Indarias’s face brightened. “I’ll contact the teapot spirits and let them know they have guests!” she promised happily.

“I only hope that is enough,” Zhongli admitted, running his thumb gently against the feathers of the finch nesting on his palm, currently losing a battle against sleep. “As Bosacius says, as bad as I feel for them and as much as I want to help them as well, we might not have the time and resources to constantly be in their presence. But I can promise you that I wish them to die as little as you two do. They have done nothing wrong.”

Bosacius nodded. “If that is decided then, I will return to the investigation myself and leave the animals to you, sister,” he said to Indarias, who was happy to get the assignment. With Zhongli’s permission, he then teleported out of the room.

“I should return to my guests,” Zhongli said after the marshal left. “If anything new comes up, do not hesitate to consult me.”

Bonanus smiled and offered her hand up, allowing Zhongli to tip the now sleeping finch from his palm to hers. The bird was sleepy enough to not take notice. The other bird, however, refused to let go of him so Zhongli decided to try and take it with him for now, also to see how it would react to hustle of his day if he was still present to calm it down. It was Indarias who suggested that experiment, but Zhongli was almost certain that it was because she thought having a finch perched on his shoulder looked adorable.

While Zhongli was a while later busy explaining to Keqing, Tighnari, Cyno and Menogias why he had returned with a clingy finch, out in the wilderness of Liyue behind Mt. Tianheng, Xiao was standing on top of a rock formation and scanning the surroundings for more animals that were being forced to do the Abyss’s bidding. Their lord had initially detected six beacons, but upon finding the seventh, the adepti were now combing the surroundings of the Harbor and the rest of Liyue for not only portals but little critters as well. It was all incredibly time consuming and required a lot of concentration. That was why it was frustrating to Xiao that he was constantly finding himself distracted by his own branching thoughts.

My trust is mine to give.

Xiao scowled as those words once again entered his mind uninvited, interrupting his scan of the surroundings for abyssal influence. He had specifically volunteered for this duty to get away from the palace for a while and distract himself with work. But now the opposite was true. It was what was inside the palace, interfering with his work outside. Xiao forcefully pushed the thought to the background and reconcentrated, once again.

He hated how much it had affected him. He didn’t know why, either. Rex Lapis had somehow spoken directly to something he had kept hidden deep inside his memories. Memories of a time when he had not known how to trust or respect another. Of a time, his image of his own worth was no different from how he now evaluated the sharpness of his polearm. None of it should have mattered in the present. His old self had no place here. Even Morax had moved forward to a new age and Xiao had been determined to move along with him.

He should have been. He thought he had.

So why did it bother him so much to realise, that Rex Lapis suddenly shared those memories of him? It was only natural that he would know. Morax’s memories from ages past were trickling into the mind of his vessel constantly, they had already witnessed it multiple times. Xiao did not want him to know, that was true, for they were inconsequential to the Liyue of today. But why did it bother him this much, having Rex Lapis show similarities with lord Morax and yet be so different at the same time? Was having the emperor nonchalantly bring up memories of old truly bothering no one else but him?

Grunting in frustration, Xiao shook his head. It was no use: he was distracted again. He couldn’t even trick himself to focus when this happened. This was interfering with his work: the work of protecting his god and nation. He was supposed to have the fortitude to withstand wrath of malevolent gods and the strength to combat demons on a daily basis. How could a few memories so easily shatter that professionalism and make him struggle to uphold his contract? Unforgivable.

Changing locations, just to get a distraction, Xiao moved towards his next scouting spot. Before he had started getting distracted, the previous area had appeared to have been clear, but he should double check it later. He just needed to clear his head enough to concentrate again.

“Xiao.”

The yaksha’s eyes widened and his feet brought him to a quick stop.

“In the fables of another land, the name Xiao is that of a spirit who encountered great suffering and hardship. He endured much suffering as you have.”

He clutched his spear. Not the one Morax had once entrusted him, but an infinitely cheaper weapon, that could not compare.

“Use this name from now on.”

Why was he remembering those words now? Xiao’s knuckles turned white around the shaft of his polearm and his teeth bit together so tightly his jaw started to hurt. But that pain was nothing. It was nothing compared to what he had felt before in his life.

“Morax…” the name escaped his lips before he could stop it. No, no, NO!

Morax was gone. Morax was dead. Nothing would change that!

“Alatus. There you are,” his brother said, landing beside him from a jump and looked around. “Did you find anything?”

“Not yet,” Xiao replied, loosening his grip of his weapon.

Bosacius grunted, nodding, and looked around them. It was a perfectly serene afternoon. It did not appear like a place where places like the Abyss reached their influence towards, but they could not be too careful. “If you have this area under control, I will go check in with Niú near the pass.”

Xiao nodded back, pretending to be busy scanning the area, when in reality, he did his all to school emotions off his face. What Bosacius said next almost made him fail.

“Rex Lapis has decided to gather up the affected animals within the adeptal realms, to see if they can recover,” Bosacius explained to him and continued talking, even as Xiao tuned out his voice.

Rex Lapis… the name rang in his head as Xiao watched his brother’s lips move without hearing a sound. That’s right. He could never forget. Xiao owed everything he had today to Morax. His name. His life. The string of power that ran under his skin. The presence of the person standing next to him. And in return, there was “Rex Lapis”. The only way for Xiao to ever hope to repay what Morax had given back to him. Morax had given up everything for this future and entrusted Liyue to the humanity. To the adepti. To Rex Lapis.

“I know why it is you have come.”

…

“Do you hate me?”

Never…

“If you so wish, I can exclude you from this contract. Do you wish to be free?”

I am free…

“Although it weighs you so, you still insist?”

If you’d grant me choice… let me choose to stay…

“Then the choice has been made, Xiao. For you. And for me.”

…!

“I intend to stay here, until the appointed time. If my presence brings you any comfort, you may remain as well.”

It hurts…

“Know that it comforts me as well, knowing that once I depart, you will be there to keep watch over what we both cherish.”

We… both…

“The trust I once gave you. Thank you, for honouring it for all these years.”

Trust.

He would honour the will his god had left behind.

Rex Lapis was only ever that. Only “Rex Lapis”. He was Morax’s will. He could never be anything else. So, who it was didn’t matter.

He need only protect him.

It changed nothing.

“We’ll reconvene at Mt. Tianheng at sundown,” Bosacius finished and patted him on the shoulder. “Try to cheer up. I know the punishment was unsatisfactory for you, but it is our lord’s will.”

Our lord’s will…

“Let’s get you that polearm back together, yeah?” Bosacius’s big palm patted him on his shoulder plates again, with a force that would have made a common human stumble forward. “Contact me immediately if something is amiss.”

Xiao watched the purple trail of lightning left behind when his brother left. He had not been listening to what Bosacius had said at all. Hopefully, it had not been important.

.

The diplomatic dinner was a lot more relaxed than what Zhongli had expected. He had feared there to be tensions between his guests, but although especially Cyno seemed to have some suspicions about the Fatui, Childe was amiable enough to strike a conversation with anyone to curb some prejudice. Ningguang and Keqing were also surprisingly open to accept the harbinger as a foreign emissary for now, although some of it was most likely professionalism. Still, neither of the two women was the type to not speak their mind if something was bothering them, as far as Zhongli knew, so he only hoped that Childe did not cross that invisible line, for his sake as well.

Zhongli also found out that Cyno was huge Genius Invocation TCG fan and that was easy common ground for Childe to strike up a friendly competition, with a spark in his eyes. Zhongli himself had never tried his hand at the game, more than the few times Hu Tao had forced him to practice with her for a tournament, but that was few and far between. He had known the basic rules before this dinner, but by the end of it, he had been introduced to a lot of strategies and tricks to use. Needless to say, that not much business was discussed around their table in the end. Outside of the few opening remarks and questions, the conversation quickly steered towards the casual. Not that Zhongli minded personally. Ironically however, Hu Tao would have been more natural at participating in the other topics of conversation had she been here.

“When the cards are played, you must place your trust in them at all times,” Cyno explained seriously over the table to Childe, who had crossed his legs and was leaning back on his chair. “They are both your offence and your defence and carry with them your pride and thirst for victory. They will fight for you, but victory is possible only if you know and understand your cards personally. Each card you play and each dice you roll, no matter what tricks you or your opponent play or what luck decides, you mustn’t lose sight of your goal.”

“You make it sound like proper duel to the death when speaking of it like that,” Childe noted with a smirk and leant back forward against the table with his elbows.

“I’m trying to make it clear that I take my matches seriously,” Cyno countered, took a large gulp of his drink and set the glass heavily down on the table. “Always.”

“Oh ho, well count me in,” Childe chuckled a little. “Don’t worry, I know when to take my competition seriously. And you are a worthy opponent.”

“Then it is settled. Draw your deck.”

Tighnari frowned at the two of them. “We’re in the middle of eating dinner, you two. And do I need to remind you of our present company?”

“I do not mind,” Zhongli assured, sipping his drink.

Childe spread his hands and shrugged, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I did not think I might need my deck on this visit. But I can certainly have it delivered for me to tomorrow.” He glanced towards Zhongli. “That is, if that bedroom I was shown to means I can still can come through your security tomorrow.”

“It does mean that, although you will be always checked on entry and exit,” Zhongli confirmed and looked over to Cyno and Tighnari as well. “You are all presently my guests and as such can enjoy the accommodations the first level of the palace has to offer, for the duration of your stay.”

“Sweet,” Childe grinned, but also shook his head again. “But sounds like a hassle to go through daily if I have no need. I think I might only stay every once in a while. I would rather not move all my stuff over from my own apartment in Liyue either.”

“That is alright as well,” Zhongli said. He was guessing it would be hard for Childe to do his work as a harbinger as well, if his subordinates could not freely come in to report to him. Although Childe was allowed to have an aide with him, sneaking into the imperial palace through the barriers would have been a hard challenge for the rest of his squad. Which was a good thing, mind you: even though they had a budding alliance now, Zhongli still wanted to avoid having to deal with Fatui spies if given a chance. Besides, their security was supposed to stop the Abyss. If it failed with the Fatui, something would have been amiss. “Will you two be staying?” he asked his other two guests.

“Yes, we would appreciate it,” Tighnari replied. “It will make my work easier to not have to go through the barrier all the time. Thank you for your hospitality, your majesty.”

“I will need to enter and exit quite often during my own work,” Cyno pointed out. “I hope this security arrangement does not take long each time.”

“Not to worry, you will be able to move about more freely with special arrangements,” Keqing spoke up now with a promise of her own. “You need not queue with anyone else coming in. And the inspection is short in any case.”

Keqing attempted to steer the conversation back to work related matters, but was denied by none other than Ningguang, who started striking a deal with Cyno about a special edition TCG card she had gotten her hands on and was ready to sell for a good price. Meanwhile, Zhongli found himself deep in discussion with Tighnari about the various mushroom species in Sumeru and their ideal habitats: a conversation that started with a few innocent questions about Tighnari’s work and derailed from there until both were in deep in their discussion. Keqing merely sighed as her attempt to capitalize on time was foiled. Although it did seem to irritate her, she resigned herself to simply complain to Childe about his table manners instead. Mainly chopstick use, which was hurdle Zhongli had addressed a few times in the past himself. He had stopped after the attempt where he had tried to equate learning to use chopsticks to mastering a weapon, by reminding Childe that specialized chopsticks could indeed be used as a weapon. After that explanation had resulted in two chopstick head sized holes in the wall, Zhongli had given up trying for public safety.

After desserts had been served and enjoyed, their dinner time now soon at its end, Zhongli excused himself to the attached balcony for fresh air. He was starting to wonder at how smoothly things seemed to progress today. And despite the dinner time having included relatively little work-related topics, he had learnt a lot of valuable information about his guests as people. Ningguang had seemed to be taking it as a chance to learn various things as well (as well as strike some deals). Keqing had been the only one who had declared that she had important matters to attend to earlier and had left before dessert. Although he was busy as well, Zhongli himself did not mind a chance to learn more about the people he was supposed to work with.

“Hey.”

Hearing a voice from behind him, Zhongli glanced towards Childe as the harbinger joined him by the railing, looking over the rooftops.

Childe leant his palms against the railing and leant forward for a moment, breathing in the afternoon before turning around and leaning his backside against the wood instead. “You know,” he started, huffing, gesturing towards Zhongli. “I still think this is all absolutely crazy.”

Zhongli couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped him. “So do I,” he admitted. “I have been forced to get used to it, however. It is certainly an adjustment.”

“Hah, no kidding,” Childe snorted but then his tone turned a bit more serious. “Ekaterina told me a little more during the day. About what happened while I was gone.” He glanced towards Zhongli, their eyes meeting when Zhongli chose to say nothing and wait for Childe to continue. “You know, if you needed someone gone, I could certainly make that happen. No strings attached.”

Zhongli cleared his throat. “There is… no need for that.”

“You sure? Not even the guy?”

“No, he was…” Zhongli hesitated. “…escorted out of the country this morning.”

“Is that not a bit too lenient for attempted deicide?”

Zhongli gave the rooftops a bothered, unhappy smile. “You’d be surprised how many people thought the same. But I live, even with the burden of all that happened. Thus, so should he.”

“Might not work with the next guy who comes over with ill intent, you know.”

“What makes you think there will be another?”

Childe nodded his head towards the scenery beyond the railing, or more specifically, the barrier that gleamed a little further away. “That security isn’t up for nothing, is it?”

Zhongli averted his gaze and did not respond. He could not refute that point anyway.

Childe nudged his shoulder a little. “So hey, remember that offer. For a bad day.”

“I do hope such a day never comes, personally,” Zhongli pointed out, for Childe’s sake as well, strong though the harbinger was. “But I suppose I can keep it in mind.”

“Good enough for me,” Childe said and stretched towards the sky. The sun was starting to set by now and the colours were turning more golden in the light. “So, what are you doing for the rest of the day? Anymore emperor business?”

“I have a couple more people to meet,” Zhongli answered vaguely. “We have to figure out how to get in contact with Fontainian officials. Any, at this point.”

Childe raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “Your people having trouble with that too? One of my colleagues lost contact with her people there some time ago as well. She headed back to investigate at the same time as I set out here, so I don’t know anything more than that though.”

Zhongli frowned. Another story of people losing contact or disappearing when entering the nation of justice. Merchant ships that had sailed into the rain had not returned either. What was going on?

Childe broke him out of his thoughts by snapping his fingers. “Hey, I was thinking earlier but didn’t have a moment to ask,” he started, looking up and down Zhongli with a little smirk in his eyes. “You’re pretty strong now, aren’t you?”

Zhongli sighed and closed his eyes for a second. Of course. “I am not sparring with you.”

“Aww, come on, at least give it some thought,” Childe whined. “It’s not everyday someone gets to flaunt their connections to duel with a god.”

“Not because I would be inherently against it. It might not be as grand as you think,” Zhongli added and raised his hand up, sliding his sleeve down his arm. Childe’s eyes widened as Zhongli’s skin started to both darken and glow, hidden power surging from underneath. “I am not used to this body as of yet. I am stronger, yes, but although I have knowledge of many things and skills, it doesn’t mean I am accustomed to using them yet.” He closed his fist tightly for a second, feeling the power within it, before letting his arm fall and the divine trait faded. “If we sparred now, I doubt it would be the experience that you seek,” he said, but smiled a little then. “But once I have trained with my power and able to give you a proper challenge, I would not be opposed to a test.”

Childe laughed, throwing his head back and leaning against the railing. “Man… I couldn’t have picked a better guy in Liyue to become friends with.”

Zhongli smiled. “In either case, it’ll have to be just a friendly spar or the adepti will skin you.”

“You sure they won’t just from hearing me suggest this?”

<Honestly: probably.>

Zhongli huffed, amused. “No promises.”

Childe’s eyes gleamed a little, telling that he would not be have minded trying his hand against the adepti either. “When will you start training then? Tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately, I have a trip to make tomorrow, that will take most of my day,” Zhongli apologised for stumping Childe’s enthusiasm. “I must visit the Golden House.”

Childe’s interest spiked again, latching onto the new topic. “From the guy who doesn’t remember that money is a thing, into the god who makes it. That is a leap alright. Does that mean I don’t have to pay for everything every time if we can ever hangout?” He grinned at the way Zhongli scowled at him a little, embarrassed. “If you wanted to pay me back, now’s a good time. How is Mora actually made, anyway?”

Zhongli shook his head. “I am not clear on the details yet myself. And even if I was, I could not tell you. Making Mora requires the use of the Geo Archon’s power and as such, is one of my new duties. Other than that, the details are obscure to the public.” It was a ritual mostly conducted monthly, unless something happened. In this case, his predecessor had last created Mora three weeks before his death, and that coupled with the delay on Zhongli’s own Ascension, meant that the reserves were emptier than they usually were.

“Say: could you make me a coin?”

Zhongli blinked. “Excuse me?”

Childe pulled out a coin of Mora from his pocket. “Just the one, it won’t be worth much. That’d be fine, yeah? Just a keepsake, you know. Something special,” he explained, playing with the coin, letting it roll back and forth over his fingers. “Make me one and we’ll call it even for deceiving me about your identity.”

Zhongli thought about it for a time and consulted with Morax just in case. “I suppose there is no harm in it. I can give you one later as a gift.” He frowned. “Just don’t sell it at an exorbitant price by telling people that it was handmade by Rex Lapis.”

Childe scoffed, amused and pretended to be hurt. “Comrade, have a little faith. I don’t need to resort to such tricks to make ends meet, nor am I the type to think I need to sit on Mora to be happy. Sure, I like being well-off and won’t object to a good salary, but I have no need to sell gifts from friends. Besides, isn’t all Mora technically speaking made by the Geo Archon or Rex Lapis anyway? I can think of much fancier things to ask from you if making some extra cash was the objective. So, it’s a deal then? You like contracts now, don’t you? Make me a coin and I won’t spike your tea with fire water.”

Zhongli chuckled and shook his head. He felt lighter, standing here now. For a moment, he had managed shrug off the expectations of a ruler and simply be Zhongli. It had been quite some time since he had had a casual chat with Childe or almost anyone, without something constantly reminding him to keep his back straight. If his time as an emperor would ever get harder, people like Hu Tao and Childe might become indispensable.

“Question,” Childe called for his attention again and Zhongli caught him glancing up towards the top of his head. “It was bugging me the entire dinner but no one else seemed to care so I didn’t bring it up but… what’s with the bird?”

“Ah,” Zhongli uttered, having almost forgotten about the finch sitting comfortably among his hair, currently nodding off after a long day. “It’s a bit complicated.”

Zhongli had to slip back into work mode for a while longer that evening, when the diplomatic dinner had been finished and he left his guests behind. Ningguang stayed behind for a moment after everyone else had left to talk with him, which worked as a natural transition for both of them to tackle some more topics that day. Other than meetings, the ongoing investigations and the making Mora, Zhongli had a lot of paperwork piled up from the time of the emperor’s absence. The Qixing had handled what they could, but as soon as these other pressing matters had been dealt with, Zhongli would for a time be confined to a desk job to fix things. Ningguang offered him her help in catching up with some of the long running issues and topics, which Zhongli was grateful for. He did hope he would not be so slow as to get on the Tianquan’s nerves with all of it though.

In addition, later during the day before Zhongli’s impromptu evening with the funeral director and the Anemo Archon in disguise, it was decided that he was going to be accepting a certain request that had been delivered to the ministry of imperial affairs. Namely, an interview with the Fontainian reporter he had met in the streets. Technically speaking, Zhongli did not have any obligation to accept one, just to ask for cooperation from the young lady, but since they were dragging her into things potentially dangerous, helping her with her work and accepting her request seemed like the least Zhongli could do in return. There was also the Inazuman person Beidou had brought back with her on their last trip across the sea, who Zhongli was curious to meet to gain more insight as to what was happening within the nation of eternity.

All of that weighing on his mind was not lost on Hu Tao when they eventually met for the night. She was quick to point out and poke at every single tensed muscle she wanted to relax. So, Zhongli sighed out his worries for the day and accepted the more leisurely time once again. He could do some more paperwork after this still before getting some rest for the day.

“Tada!” Hu Tao exclaimed after she was sufficiently happy with Zhongli’s relaxed demeanour. “May I present: the best bard in Mondstadt!”

Barbatos gave him a coy smile and a fanciful bow. “Well met, your majesty. Venti is the name. I am most grateful Rex Lapis himself would agree to meet a humble bard like me.” He looked up from his bow with a smirk. “Imagine my surprise when I heard I had been invited to the palace by the mighty emperor himself. If your majesty dislikes the little song I wrote, will I be blown away?”

Zhongli glanced briefly at Hu Tao as Barbatos discreetly send him a playful wink. So: Hu Tao did not in fact know who she had befriended and Barbatos was by the look of things absolutely going to be enjoying that shared secret of theirs. This was going to be his night then… “Nonsense. I would not dare insult director Hu’s guest.”

The song was not as bad as he had feared, either. Super embarrassing, yes, but it had a nice tune and Morax was right: Barbatos’s performances were unmatched by any previous bard he had seen. Zhongli just hoped the vintage drink the adepti had dug up would be enough to satiate the visiting archon for the night.

All in all, by the time he decided to retire for bed, after some successful sorting of documents to boost efficiency tomorrow, Zhongli was very satisfied with his day.

<Well done for today. We’ve made a lot of progress,> Morax said as well when Zhongli pulled open his hair from its ponytail. Their new finch friend Zhongli had managed to convince to leave him for the night to sleep in one of the adepti’s teapots with the other birds. <Tomorrow I will take some time to go through the creation of Mora with you in more detail. For now, take a good rest.>

“Is it difficult?” Zhongli asked, ridding himself of his layers of clothing.

<Not necessarily, but I do require your concentration. I suppose it would be easier for you than many of my other vessels, whom I couldn’t directly instruct.>

Zhongli looked down at his empty, open palms. “It is a little odd to think I can simply… make money like that. Before you came along, I never questioned how exactly it happened.”

<We will not be making the coins themselves. Although that is possible as well, it is how I did it in the beginning after all. It does still take a lot more time and effort than simply creating the substance itself. Making the actual coins is what the mints are for.>

“That does sound quite a bit less tedious,” Zhongli admitted.

Morax hummed, while Zhongli changed into his night clothes. <If you are ever in need of some extra, it is possible to create some coins on the spot as well, just not the amount that is required for international distribution. I will teach you both processes if you’re willing.> He didn’t have to ask: he knew Zhongli was open to learning more about his powers and the responsibilities that came with it. <Just try not to destroy the economy with impulse shopping.>

Zhongli huffed, raising the covers to get in bed. “I would hope I knew better than—” he stopped, freezing in place as Morax too raised their senses to full alertness.

The sound was like an uneven hum, like stone or metal dragged against a hollow glass, making it sing. Except much louder and all-encompassing. The streak of light between the curtains that should have dimmed for the night shone a bright white line into the floor as Zhongli’s feet took him to the window and his hands threw open the curtains on his way.

A light.

A white ball of light like an unnatural sun at night, pushing clouds away from itself above the city. It pulsed in place, whispering words into Zhongli’s ears in a language he could hear, but not understand. A message. A message for only those who knew the sender.

Zhongli felt a presence with himself in the room and a hand on his shoulder as he was shielded from the light, but this time, he did not move to hide, even as Morax’s mind left to investigate on his own. Even as the ball of light fizzled out, disappearing without a trace and leaving behind the empty night sky, with stars cautiously blinking back into the sights of those who had happened to witness the phenomenon, Zhongli stood firm by the window, any intention to sleep that night chased out of his mind.

He knew then, that someone was watching them. Someone out there knew that he stood by this window at this very moment. But just like last time, the light did not leave behind evidence of its purpose. Was it an order to someone in hiding? Or a warning of something that was to come?