Chapter Text
People always wish that the Gods will hear their prayers and luckily for the people of Teyvat, their prayers would never fall on deaf ears. Whether it be their smallest wishes or their deepest desires, the citizens of Teyvat may rest easy knowing that their Archons were always listening and watching over them so long as they were in power.
And so, when Zhongli gave up his Gnosis two years ago, he also gave up his ability to hear those people. Some might consider being able to hear the voices of thousands of people a nuisance, but Zhongli had always considered it a blessing. To know that his work in Liyue was worth it had always calmed his nerves. Additionally, it wasn’t as if Zhongli literally had to hear a chorus of voices constantly echoing in his mind; it was more of a feeling. And if that feeling was strong enough, Zhongli could focus in and actually hear their prayer. He always made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t directly interfere with the lives of his people, but if on occasion he could make a farmer’s journey to the market a little smoother, he never hesitated. His favorites were always their contracts. As the God of Contracts, how could he not take part in the practice? And when someone would break one of those contracts, well as they say in Liyue: they would face the wrath of the rock.
Before Rex Lapis’ “death”, Zhongli had noticed the voices growing fainter and fainter as time passed. As Liyue continued to grow, their faith in their Archon began to shrink. It was only a matter of time before those voices would fade altogether. As if to spare him from that misery, Zhongli had let his position as Liyue’s Archon go that fateful Rite of Descension. Since his contract with the Fatui was formed, he had spent his time working at the funeral parlor and doing his best to live as any other citizen of Liyue would. It was not the most exciting line of work, especially given his previous occupation, but it was the sort of lifestyle Zhongli had long sought. Holding the weight of an entire country on your shoulders was a lot of pressure; Zhongli never had the opportunity to visit local businesses, make friends with the townsfolk, or - as silly as it seemed - find love. He had given up all of those desires when he took the role as the Geo Archon; now he had the opportunity to pursue them. It had been a slow transition, however, and Zhongli was still struggling to adjust to life in the busy harbor.
Occasionally, his job would bring him outside of Liyue, and Zhongli felt thankful for those trips. Sometimes it was nice to step away from it all and visit a new environment. Perhaps that was why mortals always loved taking vacations. His favorite country to visit, as he had been this past week, was the neighboring country of Mondstadt. Whether it was the bittersweet dandelion wine or being able to speak to his old friend, Barbados, visiting the windy city always put his mind at ease. The quiet walk back through Liyue was always a pleasure, as well.
It was just like any other trip where Zhongli found himself walking through Dihua Marsh on his way back to the harbor. Barbados had sent him home with bottles of wine and well-wishes. Zhongli smiled as he heard the faint chirping of birds and the sounds of the waves lapping on the marsh’s shore. It was about halfway through, however, when Zhongli heard something unusual. It had started as a quiet hum, so soft it could have been mistaken as a breeze or the lull of the sea. But as Zhongli walked closer, the sound became more distinct. At first, Zhongli had thought he was hearing the voices of his followers again, the prayers of his people. But that wasn’t possible, was it? He soon then realized it wasn’t a prayer, it was a…. song. A song Zhongli was familiar with and one he had not heard in a long time. A song someone dear to him had once sung in what felt like a millennium ago.
His feet were moving before Zhongli had fully realized and he rushed towards the sound. As he drew closer, the voice became louder, the sound sweeter than even the ripest sunsettia. As he rounded the corner, he finally saw the source of the voice kneeling in front of the Statue of the Seven: you.
Perhaps it was the sunlight casting down on your figure or the slight fog hanging over the marsh, but to him, you looked ethereal. Your hair blew gently in the breeze as your voice rang out, clear and true. Zhongli was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, tears unwillingly welling up in his eyes. As quickly as they had started moving, Zhongli’s feet stopped, leaving him silently watching you. Zhongli felt a wave of nostalgia rush over him and suddenly he wasn't a funeral consultant anymore; he was Rex Lapis standing in the remnants of a battlefield, his closest companion singing and gathering flowers nearby. He wasn’t sure what he wanted; did he want to reach out and hold the girl? Did he want to beg her not to leave him again as she did before? Zhongli knew you weren’t his goddess, but he wasn’t sure how an everyday mortal had learned the song – her song. He watched you place a small bundle of silk flowers on the base of the statue as you stood up slowly, their faint scent reaching him. How did this girl even know the strand of flowers he loved? He shut his eyes, letting a tear spill down his cheek as he listened to the final verse.
As a new dawn comes, do not fear the sun
For we all must wilt someday
And though we may have lost the ones dear to us
Our memories will always stay.
When Zhongli opened his eyes again, he was startled to find you staring right back at him. He felt a tinge of disappointment when he realized it wasn’t her, but nevertheless, his heart fluttered as your eyes met his. You eyed him with careful curiosity, taking in his appearance. He was definitely of the wealthy sort, probably a merchant traveling from the harbor. You observed the fine gold details intricately woven through his dark coat. He looked like a relic of sorts, seeming simultaneously both naïve and ancient. Although his expression was unreadable, his amber eyes told a story of sadness and reflection. Zhongli thought you must have thought him strange – a well-dressed man crying and watching you in the middle of an empty marsh. He was surprised that you didn’t raise a weapon or carry any hostility in your stance.
“May I help you, sir?” you finally said. Zhongli snapped out of whatever trance had captured him and tried to straighten himself out. He cleared his throat.
“You have a lovely voice,” he replied. You blush at his compliment, your eyes flittering away from him briefly. You had been expecting him to sound regal given his appearance, but you certainly hadn’t expected his voice to be quite so deep. You tuck a loose strand behind your ear.
“Ah, thank you. I hadn’t expected anyone to overhear me. Dihua is usually quite lonely, but I suppose things change,” you say. It was true - you hadn’t visited the marsh in years, perhaps it had been settled now.
“I was just passing through. I apologize for startling you; as you can see, when I heard you, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the source,” Zhongli replied, laughing slightly.
“It’s no problem. I used to sing for my village all the time. I am used to a crowd,” you say.
“Might I ask what you were doing?” he inquires.
“Oh, I was simply performing an offering to Rex Lapis,” you reply. Zhongli is confused by your statement – were you unaware of his passing? You certainly looked like you were from Liyue so it was highly unlikely you wouldn’t know even if you had spent the past two years abroad.
“I’m afraid Rex Lapis has passed, he will no longer hear your prayers,” Zhongli replies.
“I know, but I hadn’t the opportunity to visit one of his statues until now. Even if I am two years late, it felt wrong to not give my own goodbye,” you say, looking back at the flowers you had brought.
Living in Qingce Village, Dihua Marsh was the closest Statue of the Seven to your home. Before Rex Lapis’ death, you had made an annual trip to Liyue Harbor and always stopped to make an offering at the statue. As a hydro vision-wielder – and Qingce’s only vision-wielder – your family entrusted you each year to visit the harbor and complete any business they needed to be done there. Additionally, it was the perfect opportunity for you to travel and spend some time away from the village. After Rex Lapis’ passing and battle broke loose in the harbor, your family no longer felt comfortable with you traveling there alone. Seeing as Qingce Village is only comprised of the elderly and young children, you knew it was in the best interest of yourself and your parents to obey their wishes and remain in the village. You supposed enough time had passed that your parents finally felt comfortable with you making the journey again. You were elated to be able to leave home once again, but also to finally say goodbye to the sinking feeling the Lord of Geo’s death had left you.
“Ah, I see,” Zhongli muttered after a moment, “Were you a devout follower of the Geo Archon then?”
“Hmm, you could say that. I think anyone living in Liyue would have considered themselves a follower of Rex Lapis, if not at least thankful for him,” you reply.
“You’d be surprised,” Zhongli says under his breath. A moment of silence passes between the two of you. Zhongli has a thousand questions for you swirling in his mind with no idea where to start. You noticed his deliberation and spoke up instead.
“What brings you to Dihua Marsh? Judging by your appearance, you seem to be quite far away from home,” you say.
“I was just passing through. I had a job in Mondstadt,” he replies. “I have made this journey quite a few times and never saw you. I don’t believe I have met you in the harbor either - and I know just about everyone there. Might I ask what brings you here?” he says.
“What a coincidence! I am also on my way to the harbor,” you say. You knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to tell a stranger about your travel plans, but the gentleman seemed trustworthy enough. Maybe it was his calming voice or soothing demeanor, but you sensed no threat in telling him. Even more surprising, you almost felt excited that he was heading to the same place as you. Perhaps the two of you could even journey together; you have never had a travel-buddy before.
Zhongli seemed to have been thinking the same thing because the next thing he said was, “Ah, might we go there together then, even if it for part of the way? It never hurts to have a companion while traveling.” You nod in agreement.
“I would love to,” you say, taking the opportunity to take a few steps closer to him. Zhongli stiffens as you approach, a little confused as to why he would be anxious with your presence. He shrugs it off as first-impression nerves and smiles down at you.
“Then so be it. If you don’t mind, however, may I propose we form a contract for this journey?” he says. You raise a brow but nevertheless agree to his proposal.
“And what would be the terms?” you reply.
Zhongli takes a moment to think. He wasn’t completely sure why he suddenly decided to form a contract. He was hesitant to blame it on the fact that this way you were required to spend more time with him because he wasn’t sure exactly what thoughts like that would mean. Thinking about possible terms, his mind immediately went back to the beautiful sound of your voice. If he was sure of one thing, it was that he wanted to hear you sing again. So, he thought of the perfect excuse for you to do so.
“Let’s say that we will accompany one another to Liyue Harbor. I will cover any expenses for the trip, as I assume we will stop for food or residence at some point. In return, I only ask that you accompany me for a small detour along the way for some… flower picking,” Zhongli suggests.
“Seems reasonable enough, though I am unsure how flower picking could be of equal weight to paying for meals,” you reply.
“I assure you; nothing would mean more to me than your company on that excursion. Shall we finalize the contract then?” Zhongli says. You nod and extend your hand. He gently takes your hand in his, shaking it. Perhaps holding onto it for a moment too long, the two of you awkwardly retracted, Zhongli fixing his glove and you rocking on your heels nervously. There was a moment of silence before he speaks up again.
“Ah, I’m afraid I never got your name,” he says, a little embarrassed.
“My name is y/n. What is yours?” you reply, looking up at him.
“Zhongli. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, y/n.”