Actions

Work Header

Wisdom of a Fortune Cookie

Chapter 7: Worth Your Weight in Gold

Notes:

thank u once again Matty my beloved for helping me with this despite my fried brain
(•ө•)♡

Warnings: worldbuilding, pseudo sciencey stuff that hopefully makes sense (pls buy my bullshit :<)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wanna come along with me?

Those five words have been haunting Zhongli ever since Childe uttered them three days ago. 

Although it is not raining today, Zhongli is stuck in Childe’s bedroom and passing time by reading books. In fact, that has been his routine for the past few days ever since the alpha extended the invitation of attending the auction to Zhongli. The decision to confine him in such a small space upsets him less than he expects, whether due to the bad experience he had in the garden or just his unstable mood recently is unknown. The fact that he has a ton of different books to distract himself with probably helps, Ekaterina proving to be indispensable in his quest to devour every one available. The rather subdued beta is surprisingly eager to help him in Childe’s absence, now being in charge of delivering his daily meals and even bringing him a pair of crutches to use. 

Speaking of the wayward alpha, Zhongli hasn’t seen the other since he was informed about the auction. Childe had just left, saying something about having unfinished business to attend to before disappearing. The last words he had said were to remind Zhongli to make his choice on whether he would join Childe at the event or not, something that has yet to leave his mind.

Sighing, Zhongli takes a sip out of his rose fruit tea, wetting his dry lips and throat. It is something he has never tried before and vastly different from the usual Chinese teas he is used to. The drink actually tastes rather good and he once again gives Ekaterina a silent thanks for her insistence on having him try something new. 

Zhongli has a good idea of what sort of auction he would potentially be attending. It is unlikely that it would be of the legal sort, unlike the ones that he had attended in the past as part of security. 

After all, this is an auction that personally extended its invitation to the Fatui, requiring a Harbinger to oversee. If it is not an illegal affair dealing with human trafficking, drugs and weapons, Zhongli would honestly have to pay his respects to the organisation for being able to subvert his expectations. There are risks and benefits to keeping to himself compared to seeking out answers. Zhongli is honestly beginning to regret not even trying to ask Childe for more information about the whole thing before letting him leave. 

At the end of the day, he has yet to come to a definitive decision on whether to join Childe or not. And with Ekaterina informing him that the alpha would be back tonight, Zhongli really doesn’t have much time left to ponder over his options. 

Although the alpha has framed it such that he has a choice, Zhongli wonders just how much of it is an act to fool Zhongli into thinking he has any sort of agency. Childe had appeared rather annoyed, ticked off even when answering the call that assigned him the task. It makes him worry that there is something off about the auction that Childe knows while he does not.

On one hand, going with Childe would allow him to leave the monotony of this mansion. It would also give him a higher chance to find a method of escape as unlikely as that opportunity might be.

Most importantly, however, would be the potential information he would get out of it. Just about anyone who attends the auction is likely to be a crook of sorts. If Zhongli manages to remember even a handful of their faces, it would make cracking down on them when he’s back at work a whole lot easier. He would also personally be able to locate one of the auction venues as well as observe the overall activities that take place there. It is, after all, rather difficult to sneak an undercover agent into these events with their tight security.

As for the drawbacks…

Now that he gives it further thought, there aren't that many drawbacks in comparison. At least, the potential information he would learn from the auction is way too juicy to pass up. What he gains from not going to the auction is an opportunity to search the bedroom and its connected areas, something he has already been doing these past few days. The rest of the mansion would likely be off-limits as he would be locked in much like today. 

The other thing would be the relative safety from other parties that might show interest in him. Zhongli is no fool to the type of people attending such illegal events. If an injured and vulnerable omega is to attend, they would no doubt have to expect some sexual harassment at the very least.

And in life, it is only through stepping out of your comfort zone that you grow and learn things. If Zhongli chooses the safer option, he can only expect to waste his time and the opportunity he has been granted. 

Doing a half-assed job when at work has never been in his nature.

Closing the thick book he hasn't really been reading for the past while, Zhongli pushes it off his lap to join the pile of other books. 

It appears which choice he should make is obvious by this point. 

Zhongli can’t say he is surprised by his conclusion. Even before slowly weighing out all the pros and cons individually, he had a feeling things would turn out this way. Besides, for the sake of his own sanity, a change of scenery for once might be a good idea.

With his mind made up, the omega eyes the crutches leaning innocuously by the bed.

If he is to go out with Childe tomorrow, the few hours he has left before Daniil would come to check in on him would likely be his last opportunity to search the mansion for who knows how long. 

This really is the perfect time for him to snoop around and collect information on both the Fatui in general and learn more about the upcoming auction as the master of the house is out. From the way Childe really seems to value him as his mate, he could probably get away bluffing his way out with a nonexistent relationship should any of the servants in the mansion catch him.

Unfortunately, the door to the exit is locked. 

That doesn’t mean he has nothing left to do. He might have been searching the private quarters of a Fatui harbinger, combing the area in small parts for a while now, but there is still a location he has yet to cover. The only thing that worries him is to what extent Childe is prepared for his actions. While the alpha has been presenting himself as nothing but unassuming and a happy go lucky young teen, the opposite of what you would expect out of a seasoned criminal, Zhongli knows better than to underestimate the other. He has already received a rude shock for his complacency once and would loathe making the same mistake twice. 

But it is a little too late for caution now. If there is really a hidden camera of sorts watching his every move, there is no harm adding on another sin to his already extensive list of crimes. Such is the risk he is willing to take. 

Zhongli is anything if not a fast learner. Pain and suffering have long become part of his life. He takes it all in stride. 

If he doesn’t adapt so quickly in such a world where hostility towards omegas is so rampant, he would have long been dead on the streets with no home or family to turn to. The only alternative to that for most would be to sign your life away on a contract where you essentially belonged to the government, serving as little more than a fleshly container to be married off to some alpha and used as entertainment or for breeding. 

Such is just the reality that omegas faced, especially ones without friends, family or wealth to support them. 

They are essentially just a tool to be used, a commodity – something less than human. 

Since no one has come to disturb him apart from his fixed meal times, the chances that anyone would come now is rather low. Even then, doing any sort of snooping around would never be without risks. After all, with high risks comes high rewards. If he is not willing to stake anything on the line, he shouldn’t be expecting to get anything in return.

Pushing himself to the edge of the bed, Zhongli lets his legs hang off the side as he reaches for the crutches leaning against the wall. He is now allowed to use them under the strict promise that he wouldn’t exert himself for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and to rest the moment the pain becomes too much. 

The first time he had used it ended in a mild disaster with both Daniil and Ekaterina getting smacked in the face with his flailing limbs. It didn’t help that he wasn’t allowed to use his right arm at all, reducing him to just one crutch and ambling along in an odd sort of half hopping motion. 

Now, however, Zhongli can say confidently that he is much smoother with the technique, even managing to walk several laps around the bedroom before he starts to tire. His drastic reduction in stamina is another source of great distress, but one he will have to overlook for now. 

As for his exploration this time, Zhongli heads straight to the windows by the bed. With a bit of effort, he manages to open the blinds covering them, allowing a bright stream of sunlight to filter in. 

During the past few days he had spent scouring the bedroom, it had proven to be exactly like its name suggests: a bedroom, albeit a rather messy one. There were no hidden panels or secret documents he could find, only more dirty laundry and a seemingly out of place narwhal plushie stuffed into the back of the closet. He did manage to scrape together a few paperclips from the trash bin and survey the view he has from the body length windows, however. A cursory glance out showed a good vantage point with a clear view of the front driveway as well as part of the garden. Zhongli observed people coming and leaving the place through that very path. It should be a good indicator if Childe decides to return earlier than expected unless the alpha decides to throw him a curve ball and use the back entrance like he showed Zhongli during their house tour. 

Of course, that would only apply when he is in the main bedroom. The moment he enters the study, Zhongli would essentially be rendered blind. For that reason, his few trips there have always been very short, being sure to check only a small area at a time. In fact, Zhongli had come close to being caught once when Ekaterina had decided to bring him some snacks all of a sudden. 

Hobbling slowly over to the door leading to the study, he carefully unfurls his right fist, revealing two paper clips bent out of shape. With an incredible amount of patience and some hurt on his part, Zhongli had managed to turn them into makeshift lock picking tools, bending the outer loops of them into an imitation of the real deal. 

Hopefully, with only Childe’s desk left to search this time, he would finish his task comfortably within his self-imposed time limit, with plenty to spare getting back to bed and looking as innocent as a lamb.

Zhongli holds one paper clip in each hand and presses them into the door lock, ignoring the small flare of pain from his right arm every time he moves to fiddle with the mechanism of the lock. He is already lucky that he can pick his way through in the first place. Asking for more would just be way too greedy by this point. 

Having done this several times already, it doesn’t take too long before a soft click rings out. Zhongli hurriedly pockets the paper clips as he pushes the study door open, surveying the area in front of him cautiously.

To his relief, the study is empty as expected and shows no signs of anyone entering. From the messy papers sprawled all over the desk to the deer head mounted on the wall, it practically looks like an exact replica from the day Childe first carried him over. It makes him wonder just how often the alpha actually uses the room.

But that is beside the point. Such a room is bound to contain some information at the very least no matter how frequently it is used. Despite having not found anything too useful for now, Zhongli has great hopes for the last place he has yet to check. Again, Zhongli catches sight of Childe’s laptop sitting innocuously on the coffee table paired with sofas placed in the centre of the room. It almost seems to wink at him invitingly to open it and dig around.

Instead, he turns his nose on the device, knowing it poses too much of a risk to even attempt to touch.

As he makes his way to the desk, Zhongli can’t help but glance suspiciously at the deer head mounted on the wall for the third time. Although he has already checked it for hidden cameras or other hidden mechanisms, it still never fails to unnerve him every time he enters.

Is this the guilty conscience of a thief? Or more likely, he is just high strung from adrenaline knowing how terribly this could all end if he is ever caught. 

Resting his crutch against the edge of the desk, Zhongli begins to scan the contents of its surface. Tentatively, he picks up the top sheet of paper from a random stack and scans its contents. He skims the pointless formalities at the start before reaching the actual useful information which details the financing of several sectors of the Fatui’s operations. It is of interest to him for certain, but not anything he can make use of immediately. Unfortunately, with no way to note down what he has learned, all Zhongli can do is to commit the numbers to memory for now.

The next few sheets prove to be much less useful. Without time on his side to personally comb through every document, Zhongli settles for what he can get and shifts his attention to the next area. 

Most of the desk drawers are locked. In fact, there are only two that he can open. Due to his dire lack of time once again, he has to settle for the already unlocked ones, the first being the candy stash that Childe had shown him previously and the other one being largely empty save for a translucent folder with several sheets of paper inside. 

Curious, Zhongli takes it out and removes its contents carefully, making sure to leave no trace of his tampering. He hopes that it would contain some sensitive information that might be of use to the police should he get out, although the chances of such convenience just lying around feels rather low. 

What he is greeted with turns out to be a complication of several newspaper articles. A closer look reveals them to be of varying dates, with the oldest dating almost ten years back. 

“Guili Station bombed! The Abyss Order back again with their shenanigans…”

“Shocking! Beta kidnaps over ten young alphas and holds them hostage…”

“Police reveal annual socialite meeting is actually a cover for drug dealing…”

Exasperated, Zhongli goes through the flimsy papers, reading headline after headline. They almost seem like a random collation of paper and text, all having no relation to each other. He even flips each of them over, wondering if there would be some hidden message on the other side.

Abruptly, Zhongli’s hand freezes in midair. 

His eyes narrow. 

Slowly, he goes through all the newspaper clippings in reverse, reading each headline again as he begins to recall all of his past experiences. 

He isn’t mistaken.

Shuddering, he quickly scoops up all the newspapers scattered across the desktop and slots them neatly back into the folder. Then he returns it to its rightful place, pushing the drawer close with a soft sound. 

There isn’t anything left for Zhongli to go through. The shelves have been scoured, the carpet upturned and couch cushions flipped. Trying to go through the half-filled papers on the desk would take more time and effort than he can spare. The last thing he notes are the various items on the study table. 

True to his messy habits, Childe has nearly all his pens out of their holder and sprawled messily over the desk. The letter opener is being used as a paperweight while the actual one is on the ground next to a few crumpled sheets of paper. Zhongli half considers swiping the dull blade or the stray nail clipper dangling precariously off the edge of the desk but decides against it in the end. 

With a heavy sigh, Zhongli grabs his crutch and begins to hop back to the bedroom door. He leaves the study and returns to the bed, returning his crutch to its original spot and picking up a book to continue where he had left off. 

He flips a page, mind only half focusing on the text in front of his eyes.

Those articles all do have something in common after all. 

Smoothly, he retrieves the bent paper clips from his breast pocket and slides them under the mattress. 

After all...

Why does Childe have a folder of all the reported missions and cases he has worked on?


By the time Daniil arrives in the evening, Zhongli has long eased into his role of a guileless omega, sucking absently on a sour plum sweet as he flicks through a thick book about the toxicology profiles of natural toxins found in the wild.

To test how functional his legs are again, he is made to walk around the room once without the help of crutches. Utilising the walls to steady himself, Zhongli manages the lap with a little difficulty. While just this bout of exertion is still manageable, he has a sneaking feeling that anything more will be beyond his capabilities for now.

“You’ve been taking your pain medication recently?”

“Yes.”

“On a scale of one to ten, with one being no pain and ten being the worst pain you can imagine, how would you say you’re feeling now?”

After collapsing onto one of the bedroom chairs in exhaustion, Zhongli is met with a barrage of questions from the other. If not for the fact that he knows they are for his own good, he would have elicited to ignore the older man heartlessly. Giving the latest question some thought, Zhongli eventually decides not to lie.

“Three.”

“Even after your neck wound got reopened?”

“My neck doesn't hurt much as long as I don't speak or eat.”

“So, it hurts when you do those activities then?” Daniil notes something down on his tablet. “That’s not ideal at all. Also, I’ve been checking on your wound healing and they haven’t been healing as fast as I’d like.”

Frowning, Zhongli asks the doctor, “Will that be a problem?”

“Not exactly, as long as we take care of your injuries properly. This slow progress could indicate things like lack of nutrition, sleep or stress though.”

“… Did you find out more about my current condition?”

Daniil eyes him suspiciously, probably catching onto his forceful shift of the conversation but is polite enough to not call him out on it. Instead, he humours Zhongli and begins to explain the spoils of his labour.

“After our discussion that one time, I tried to do as much research about the subject matter as possible.

Unfortunately, it really is as we have feared. There isn't a substantial amount of data out there to draw any conclusive evidence. I suppose, however, there have been some theoretical hypotheses of the consequences of removing one’s scent gland.”

To help illustrate his point, the doctor reaches into his bag and pulls out a tablet. After switching the device on, he begins drawing a simple, yet comprehensive diagram of a human’s neck.

“As you may or may not know, the scent gland, located at the side of the base of the neck, is responsible for the production of secondary sex hormones in both alphas and omegas. While present in betas as well, it remains inactive and generally disappears as they age. There is evidence to suggest that it is not the sole source of production, but it is safe to say at least ninety per cent of those hormones are made there.”

He begins to list out all the sex hormones found in the human body before dividing them into two groups, one labelled ‘primary’ and the other ‘secondary’.

“Secondary sex hormones are what differentiate omegas and alphas from regular betas and give them their characteristic features such as the development of the womb in male omegas, the growth of a penis in female alphas, emission of pheromones, etcetera.

There have been several well-documented incidences of newly presented people having their scent glands removed when young, resulting in them largely growing up to be close to a regular human beta. The sudden removal of the scent gland in a fully grown adult omega, however, is not well studied. It has been proposed that side effects relating to the functions of secondary sex hormones will be observed, but this cannot be confirmed due to reasons such as the lack of case studies and animals with similar organs to draw comparison from.”

“Those hypothesised side effects you mentioned, what exactly are they?”

“As I mentioned, all these symptoms I’m about to mention are purely theoretical so take them with a grain of salt.”

Daniil has a solemn look on his face as he begins to speak.

“The side effects with the strongest evidence behind them include dysregulation of the heat cycle, reduced slick production, pheromone emission and the atrophy of the womb. Other suggested side effects like the change in body fat ratio and the loss of the ability to scent certain smells have less evidence behind them but are possible nonetheless.”

“Oh.”

Zhongli hears the words. They flow in through his ears, but his brain refuses to comprehend them to a degree. Certain words in particular jump out at him, shaking his heart that has long gone numb from the shock of it all.

Perhaps sensing his distress, the older male begins typing and tapping on his tablet for several minutes. Then he places the device on the table between them and slides it over to Zhongli. Curiously, the omega peers at the images displayed. What looks to be an odd-looking chicken as well as a diagram of a procedure being done on it is depicted in great detail in front of him.

“Like I said before, what I said is all pure theoretical speculation. I cannot stress this point enough. But since you will be living with this for the rest of your life, allow me to use some similar situations to draw a comparison to help you understand your condition better.”

The older male points to one of the pictures.

“This process is known as caponization, where the sexual maturation of male chickens is altered to improve the quality characteristics of their meat. To put things simply, the chickens are castrated and hence never reach sexual maturity. The lack of androgens affects them in various ways including a smaller comb, wattle, increased body mass and reduced aggression.

In this regard, humans are quite similar. Like I mentioned before, alphas and omegas who have their scent glands removed early grow up to be pretty much no different from betas. But unfortunately, this isn’t close enough to your current situation to be of much use.”

“As for my next example”—the doctor opens up a different set of diagrams this time—“uses a well-studied human condition.”

For a puzzling moment, Zhongli wonders why the other is showing him a human neck when he has already emphasised so vehemently how much ambiguity surrounds scent glands.

“This is the thyroid gland.”

Using his finger, Daniil circles the middle section of the neck in red.

“Much like the scent gland, its function is to produce thyroid hormones that regulate different life processes in the body. The main difference between the scent and thyroid gland is that the thyroid gland is the sole source of thyroid hormones in a human. So if it is fully removed, usually due to hyperactivity for various reasons, the body will enter a state of hypothyroidism, characterised by slower metabolism, lethargy and possible weight gain.

For all we know, the scent gland might work like the thyroid gland. Since it would be inhumane to artificially generate a situation where there is a sizable number of omegas without scent glands to study, the current data available is of poor quantity, mostly consisting of individual anecdotes and personal recounts. The long-term effects of the lack of a scent gland in fully grown omegas are also unknown, as the incidence of death in omegas who lose their scent glands within the first month are staggeringly high.

The believed leading cause of such high death rates is suicide and murder by a spouse or a loved one. There are several explanations that I can think of to explain this situation, the top being societal pressure and a lack of proper support channels due to their sudden changes. Another likely possibility is the permeability of the hormones, allowing them to pass the blood-brain barrier leading to psychoactive properties—”

The doctor cuts himself off abruptly, grimacing as he begins to explain himself again.

“Another possibility is that secondary sex hormones play a role in regulating your emotions. This means a sudden lack of them could result in mood disturbances.”

“Mood disturbances?”

Daniil sighs.

“It’s a nice way of putting the fact that you might be more susceptible to depression or mood swings.”

Zhongli twists the excess fabric of his oversized shirt. While he has long grown past the stage of needing to wear a hospital gown, the baggy shirts and shorts he is given instead are not that much of an upgrade.

“I see.”

Those are the only words he manages to squeeze out. His chest suddenly feels very stuffy and breathing becomes a chore. He begins to recall how he has been acting these past few weeks—

Zhongli does not recall how he has been acting these past few weeks. He is beginning to regret ever asking Daniil more about his condition. Would it have been so bad to stay blissfully ignorant, living in his bubble of denial for as long as it would last?

“Look Zhongli, every human body is unique. How your body handles something as common as the flu will be different from mine. Likewise, the loss of your scent gland will affect you in ways that we can try to predict but the minor details might be different.”

He tries to listen. He really does. Forcefully shoving aside his useless sentiments, Zhongli tries to focus on what the doctor is saying.

“As you probably know, the dynamics of the secondary gender and presentation has been regarded as a deeply spiritual thing tied closely to religion for as long as we can remember. Even to this day, many, the older generation especially, are still strongly against any sort of research being done about it. The most telling is how society still looks down on omegas who decide to go on heat blockers. Despite having been disproven many times, the common notion on how it can affect fertility when used for long periods is still peddled frequently in the media. It’s quite the tragedy really when you consider how some omegas do need heat blockers to live a normal life.”

“I’m aware.”

To Zhongli, the heat blockers have always been an essential part of his life. Without them stopping his monthly heats, he would always have to be wary of when they would arrive, forcing him to stop whatever he is doing in order to hide away and ride out the experience himself. The only other options are to either get pregnant or be mated to an alpha, both being options he is not too keen on.

“Your heats must be rather frequent or deliberating huh?”

Daniil nods in understanding.

“I’ve seen some of the omegas they bring to me really suffer from extreme ones. If you remember my explanation on the thyroid gland, some omegas similarly have overactive scent glands, forcing them to have frequent heats that last for days on end. They can't be predicted, nor can they be properly controlled, posing a risk to not only themselves but society every time they go out.

The stigma of all omegas being sluts and going out of their way to destroy the country through seducing and distracting alphas likely stems from this lack of understanding.”

Shame pools in his gut. Despite being an omega himself, Zhongli must admit that he too believes in that mindset to an extent. While he knows that he always controls his own heats such that he will not disrupt the status quo, never did it occur to him that some omegas would have legitimate medical reasons for causing incidences of public indecency.

In his ignorance, he had just assumed them to be irresponsible and weak, either forgetting their medications or just trying to vie for attention. His behaviour is appalling. How many times had she told him to try empathising more with others before jumping to conclusions?

“I’m guilty of believing that as well,” Zhongli admits.

Daniil gives him a sympathetic pat on the back, his normally bored face breaking into a rare look of empathy.

“Don’t beat yourself over it. There’s no way a normal person would know.”

While the assurance helps to quell his turbulent feelings somewhat, Zhongli still feels rather disappointed in himself as he watches Daniil start to pack his things up to leave.

“Honestly? I think I might as well start running the first randomised control trial on this topic now that I’ve already researched so much into it.” The doctor lets out a soft chuckle. “After all, I do have the perfect case study in front of me right now.”

That single sentence reminds Zhongli of the facts he has been trying so hard to forget. He gives the doctor a shaky smile as he tries to compose himself.

How can he forget? How can he stop thinking when that is the one prized thing he has over anyone else?

It won’t be easy, but you need to try alright, Zhongli? If not for yourself, then for me… No, for her dream. Harden your heart and kill your emotions. Such things aren’t necessary.

Yes. All he needs to do is to steel his heart and get over it. There are so many more things he has to do. Life is never fair. Zhongli has always taken what it throws at him and faced it down with unfaltering resolve.

Pointless, useless sentiments.

Why remember when all they do is cause more pain and suffering?

Remember the good, purge the bad.

No matter the odds, he would continue down this lonely path on his own, struggling to carve a spot in the world for himself.

The matter of his scent gland is negligible in the greater scheme of things. Zhongli has more important things to worry about at the moment. For example, the pressing matter of the auction tomorrow. Considering how he will be entering such a dangerous place, Zhongli can’t help but worry about his ability to function should anything occur.

Just as Daniil is about to leave the room, the omega finally picks up the courage to make his request.

“I’m sorry to ask this out of the blue, but can I get some stronger long-acting painkillers for tomorrow?”


“Zhongli?”

There is a knock on the door.

“Zhongli??”

Silence.

“Are you in?” 

The voice is persistent.

“Can I come in?”

He can hear; he isn’t deaf. 

Fingers twitching, a brief desire to get up and open the door for his unwanted guest flares up within him but is quick to die.

What is the point of moving?

What is the point of talking?

What is the point of...existing?

What is the point…

“...”

There is nothing but darkness around him. Only the slightest bit of light filters in through the windows in his tiny room, the cotton curtains unable to keep it out entirely. 

Several voices outside his room speak at once. He doesn't even have to hear the smattering of conversation that floats over to deduce that they are talking about him. There is noise all around, buzzing, fuzzy static that refused to abate for days. He wishes it would stop trying to bother him.  

“... I’m coming in alright?”

The familiar voice states its intentions. A small part of Zhongli dreads its owner coming in and seeing his state of disarray, yet another longs for just any form of comfort so violently it actually hurts. 

Ever so gently, the door to his room opens just a crack. He hears more than sees the person entering. They give a sharp inhale, mumbling something to themselves before fumbling for the light switch. He can only hope others wouldn’t come in as well. The thought of practical strangers being present to witness his weakness makes him feel nauseous. 

The fluorescent lights come on as the switch is flipped, harsh light nearly blinding him with its unfamiliarity.

“Oh Zhongli…”

Zhongli resolutely refuses to respond. He continues to stay huddled up in the corner of his bed, tangled in blankets and pillows, staring aimlessly at nothing. He imagines how the other must be taking in the absolute mess that is his room at the moment. Stray clothes and broken things from his fits of despair lie strewn across the ground. Mixed in together is probably shards of broken glass from a bottle of osmanthus wine he vaguely remembers breaking, the spilt liquid soaking into the wooden floorboards. 

“Zhongli, are you going to answer me?”

The person is gradually getting closer from the volume of his voice. He must be navigating his way through the throng of things lying around.

“Please Zhongli. Won't you...look at me at the very least?”

Something in his numb heart stirs. 

That slight bit of emotion, as small as it is, is enough to compel him to look up. 

Retuo stands in front of him. The other appears to have aged over ten years in the weeks Zhongli has not seen him. Anxiety and grief fill his face, red eyes studying Zhongli with what can only be described as anguished distress. 

“Gege.” 

He is already mouthing the familiar addressal before his mind has the time to process it.

“Zhongli!” 

Relief breaks out across the beta’s face. The bed dips as Retuo sits on it, hands outstretched to draw the omega into a hug. But then he hesitates, an uncertain glint appearing in his eyes as he ultimately lets them fall.

Zhongli takes this all in without moving an inch and barely breathing.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Retuo tries a different approach, running his hand through his hair uncertainly. “The people in the omega facility told me you haven't been attending your therapy sessions ever since you came back from the hospital, let alone leave your room.”

A slow blink is all he gets in response. 

“Zhongli ah…” The older male’s brows furrow as he sniffs the air. “When was the last time you ate or even took a shower?”

Shame pools in his gut. How hideous and disgusting he must appear now. Zhongli’s fists clench, pulling the blankets tighter around himself even as his fingers and palm ache in pain. If not for the amount of effort it would take to change positions and curl up into a tight ball, he would have long done that already. Instead, he just lets his eyes slip shut, willing his problems to disappear if he just ignores them long enough.

Still, all the humiliation in the world wouldn't be enough to get him to react. Zhongli is lost to the world, too caught up in his own mind and the crushing emptiness he feels.

For a moment, there is only blessed silence. Zhongli almost believes that Retuo has given up on him and decided to leave him to rot in his own filth when there is a slight touch on his arm. 

The memories slam violently back into his mind. Zhongli jerks away abruptly, nearly lashing out at the offending limb as well. Too late does he recall where he is, far away from that horrid incident of blood and death and decay.

Absolute hurt is written across the other’s face. Appalled at his own actions, it makes Zhongli want to apologise immediately, to tell him that it isn't his fault, that Zhongli is the one that is broken – ruined beyond repair. 

Zhongli is the one who is at fault; it was all his fault.

But the words refuse to come forth. Like the despicable sinner he is, Zhongli lets Retuo continue to think that he is in the wrong while all he does is wallow in self pity.

An unknown amount of time passes with just the two of them sitting on his bed like that. Several times, Zhongli’s mind wanders off somewhere, a fantasy of happier times where he would play in the garden with his two most important people in the world. He recalls the time they would take turns swinging on the swing by the old ginkgo tree, the times they would fight over chores to do, the first time he managed to meet them at high school despite being years apart in grades. How happy Guizhong had been then too, rushing up immediately to meet him, scooping him up into a big, long hug. 

They celebrated her eighteenth birthday back at the orphanage by the old old ginkgo tree they used to play by when they were children. Since it coincided with the Mid-Autumn Festival that year, she had brought along some mooncakes and osmanthus wine to go with the sweet treats. It would be his first taste of being an adult, she had told him then, waving away his worries of not quite being of age to drink.

Relax. Just a little bit of alcohol can't hurt, can it?

Retuo had merely grunted and chomped heartily on his mooncake, not making any comment. 

In the end, his curiosity had won out, pushing him to take a small sip out of the paper cups they brought to share the single bottle of wine.

It had tasted mildly sweet and bitter, with a strong fragrance unique to the osmanthus flower. 

Bitter. 

Bitter, like the thick taste of regret and remorse. 

His mouth is dry and his tongue heavy.

He should probably drink something.

Seeing as Retuo still doesn't dare to try touching him again, Zhongli reaches out hesitantly, grasping the other’s sleeve weakly. 

There is no energy or heat left in his body, only a hollow pit of despair and nothingness within him. Even that small action is almost too taxing for his body, not even trembling despite the chill blanketing him. 

Retuo’s eyes snap over to meet his own. 

“W-water…”

Zhongli is left alone as Retuo hastily leaves to get him something to drink. It is only when he is certain that the older male is gone that he gingerly begins to unclench his right hand. The bleeding from the cuts he got when he broke the wine bottle has long stopped bleeding, leaving only dried blood coating the blankets and sheets. While the smaller one on his finger appears to be relatively fine, the larger one across his palm is hot to the touch and slightly raised at the edges. Zhongli gives it a small poke and hisses in pain as it throbs fiercely in response.

Dispassionately, he allows his arms to fall limply to his sides. There is no way he can conceal a wound from Retuo when it is in such a visible place. He can only hope that the other would take mercy on him and not ask him for answers. 

Soon enough, Retuo returns with some water. Holding the cup up to Zhongli, he catches the omega’s wrist when Zhongli mindlessly raises his right hand to receive it.

“Zhongli you—”

Retuo cuts himself off and sighs. He sets Zhongli’s hurt hand down and presses the cup into his unhurt one instead, watching as the younger male drinks the water in small, measured sips.

However, the distraction that is the glass of water only takes up that much time. Eventually, Zhongli drinks his fill, letting the empty glass drop onto his bed where it rolls slightly before coming to a standstill. He can tell Retuo is looking at him earnestly, probably brimming with plenty of questions he isn't quite ready to give. 

Maybe he would never be ready; some things are better taken to the grave.

With agonising slowness, Retuo takes his uninjured hand in his. The larger hand curls around Zhongli’s own, intertwining their fingers gradually. It is a familiar gesture, one that they have done many times in the past. 

Ever since he knew him, Retuo has always been something of a gentle giant. Large and imposing for a beta he might be, but his personality is truly soft once you become important to him and peel away his many layers. 

Warmth permeates through his cold shell of apathy, reaching his fragile heart that has yet to learn to cope with such an extent of trauma. The veil of grief parts for just a moment, enough to bring him back to the present.

Retuo is in front of him.

Here, in the flesh.

Alive.

“Retuo.”

“Yes?”

“Retuo-gege.”

He doesn't let the other respond this time, flinging himself into the other’s broad chest. 

Dependable, reliable Retuo, his beloved ge who has always been there for him, believing in him when Zhongli himself can't. 

Zhongli chokes. He shudders and heaves. He clutches onto the other like a dying man drowning, searching for something – anything to keep him afloat. And Retuo is all too happy to oblige him, staying as still as a rock as Zhongli howls and cries into his shirt. 

He probably sounds like a dying animal with the ugly, strangled sounds he makes. They are accompanied by tears and yet he doesn’t quite cry either. They are merely a silent slide of liquid down his cheeks, soaking into the shirt of the man in front of him as he grasps onto the other in a death grip.

His chest is going to burst open. There is a tight bundle of pressure right at his sternum threatening to burst out any moment. He feels so, very sick like he has just woken from a terrible nightmare only to realise with dawning horror that it is true.

But that is his reality; the nightmare came true. 

Guizhong is gone and will never return.

It would be nice if he could throw a fit, vent his emotions on some innocent party just to sate his selfish desires a little bit. However, he is far too rational for that and how could he, when the person whose arms are around him in a comforting embrace is none other than his dear, sweet Retuo?

“Zhongli,” Retuo calls his name once more once his shaking has settled down into something more subdued. “Do you want to take a shower?”

With the tears goes the remainder of his emotions leaving him nothing but a blank shell. Blankly, Zhongli nods, feeling way too drained to really deny. He allows the older male to lift him up in his arms and carry him to the bathroom. His clothes are removed and the shower starts somewhere off to his right. 

By this point, exhaustion is beginning to creep up on him. Despite not having done anything for the past few days apart from lying on his bed and staring at the wall, Zhongli can't seem to stay awake. He is only partially aware as Retuo helps him shower, rubbing soap into his hair and all over his body in a surprisingly relaxing manner. 

Several times throughout the bath, Zhongli nearly falls asleep while standing. The only thing preventing his collision with the floor is the presence of muscular arms wrapping around his torso. His entire time in the toilet passes in a blur of running water and the sensation of hands massaging his filthy body. The swirling of soap studs slowly flowing down the drain fascinates him. The spirals that they draw on the shower floor have a near hypnotising property.

He blinks.

Retuo is sitting him back down on his bed. Replacing the blood-stained sheets and blankets are fresh ones carrying the faint smell of clothes softener. His room looks much cleaner. The curtains are drawn revealing the night scene of Liyue Harbour, the clutter and broken glass swept neatly into the corner of his room.

Gone is the mess, the rot and decay, the perpetual gloominess that seemed so deeply steeped into his room. 

All that remains is Retuo, holding his injured hand tenderly while attempting to bandage it with the supplies from the first aid box.

Silently, Zhongli watches as the other works. A small part of him wonders with no small amount of cynical dread when Retuo would tire of this childish act of his, admonishing him for continuing to shut out the world or abandon him outright. 

“Zhongli,” Retuo says as he neatly ties up the end of the bandage. “You can't keep continuing like this.”

He tucks the omega’s arm back into his lap. Massaging his temples, he appears to look very tired all of a sudden.

“I know it’s going to be hard, but you need to move forward from this somehow.”

Retuo sits down next to him. They are close enough that their shoulders barely brush.

“We can take things slow,” the older male tells him gently. “But we can't keep dwelling on the past. That’s what Guizhong would have wanted for you as well.”

“Guizhong is dead.”

“I— Yes Zhongli, know that too. I'm aware. I'm so aware. Not a moment passes that I'm not reminded of that fact.” 

Like a dam has burst, the once tentative tranquillity is shattered by Retuo’s sudden unexpected outburst. 

“I look at you and I think of her. I think of how much you two suffered and why I wasn’t there for you. But we can't just let that beat us down. Guizhong wouldn’t have wanted that of us and—

I’m… I’m so sorry Zhongli. Please if not for her sake or your own, can you live on for me, please? I know it’s selfish of me but I can't… I can't go on if you leave me too…” 

Denial.

He couldn't believe it then. Even when her blood ran cold and she never responded after hours, days even, Zhongli refused to believe she was gone.

Anger.

His room bore the brunt of his rage. The evidence lies scattered all over the floor, from the upturned chars to broken objects, the messily thrown clothes and the scattered papers.

Bargaining.

How many times has he asked himself the question ‘what if’? 

What if he had not stolen the letters and gifts?

What if they had asked Retuo to come along with them?

What if...

What if he had volunteered himself instead of her?

Depression.

Is... Is that where he is now?

Zhongli recognises the bouts of mania and low moods for what they are but remains incapable of doing anything about it. For reasons unknown, his thoughts are still as clear as ever, his mind working overtime analysing his own emotions and responses, thinking about all the most irrelevant facts in the world.

No amount of intelligence or rationalising would truly be able to understand the inner workings of the human mind. 

Acceptance. 

He wonders when, or if he would ever make it to this stage.

Seeing Retuo break down in front of him is much more unsettling than he would have expected. The other has always been his rock, his anchor – a steadfast presence that was a stranger to change. But Zhongli should have seen it coming. The other is still human after all, susceptible to the thing known as emotion. 

Retuo has always been strong for his sake. Has he ever stopped once to truly understand how the other feels?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that.”

Retuo gets up from the bed, a deep sated wariness telegraphed from his every move.

“Get some rest Zhongli. I’ll see you tomorrow perhaps.” 

“W-wait!”

Before he can help himself, Zhongli is already calling out to the other male. Retuo pauses in his steps, a hopeful look on his face as though he has been waiting for this all along.

“... Can you stay? Here, with me, just for tonight?” 

The churning feeling of something heavy and leaden brews deep in the pits of his stomach. Zhongli has never been good with sorting out his own feelings. Although he recognizes it as something negative with how it threatens to choke him, pulling him under with its potency, he can't quite put a label on it. 

Is it the lingering feeling of shared misery?

Is it desperate longing for comfort as he falls apart?

Is it guilt for making use of Retuo like this, taking advantage of the obligation he must feel and using him as an emotional crutch when the other must be suffering as much as himself?

There is barely any hesitation in the other’s actions. He flicks off the light switch, throwing the room into inky darkness once more. Scooting over to the far corner of the bed, Zhongli tries to make some space for Retuo to lie down. When the beta doesn't seem to take the hint even after a good ten minutes, simply sitting beside him and watching the stars through the open window, Zhongli nudges the other in the side, pulling at his arms to join him in his sleep.

The slight fear that Retuo wouldn't indulge in him this time is quickly dispelled as he hears the soft rustling of cloth. The blankets around him are drawn back slightly as the older male lifts them, lying down before snuggling down beside Zhongli and covering them back up.

It is a little cramped. 

Their current position mirrors the past. Only now, the two of them are much older. Even squeezed tightly together, they struggle to fit on Zhongli’s bed. One of Retuo’s legs is dangling awkwardly over the bed edge. If not for Zhongli dragging the other’s leg back such that they are a tangle of limbs, he really wonders how Retuo could sleep in such an uncomfortable position.

The room is dark. Zhongli can hear the sound of steady breathing, his hair being ruffled slightly every time Retuo exhales. They sleep facing each other, with Zhongli curling into the older male’s chest. It is just as warm and inviting as he remembers. Retuo cages him into the wall with a tight embrace, making Zhongli feel safe and protected from the world. Everything else ceases to matter for the moment. All that matters is the gentle rise and fall of the other’s front, his clean scent smelling earthly and mellow and the gentle stroking of his back.

“Zhongli, look at me.”

Something brushes across his face, causing Zhongli’s eyes to snap open. Retuo’s hands are on his cheeks, bringing their faces close as he stares deeply into Zhongli’s amber eyes. 

“Don't think so much alright? Just focus on me – on us. You need the rest now. We can…think about other things once we are fresh and rested tomorrow.”

The constant stream of thoughts stops. The buzz of noise, screaming, memories…

Zhongli suddenly feels like he has travelled back in time when they faced a period of shortage of beds. The orphanage had been overwhelmed with new arrivals without sufficient beds to house them. It resulted in some of them having to share beds until the staff could fix the issue.

Of course, there were only two options in his mind from the beginning. Since it was inappropriate to share a bed with Guizhong, Zhongli settled with Retuo, a decision that he quickly took much joy in. 

The beta male has always been larger than Zhongli, be it in height or overall body frame. When they lie down next to each other on the cramped bed, they are forced to press up against each other or risk rolling off the bed at the slightest misstep. 

What others might have considered a major inconvenience was instead a boon for Zhongli who positively thrived in the situation, getting the best sleep he ever had in years. He had the perfect excuse to cuddle up against Retuo’s strong body that smelt of home and safety. The gentle beat of the other’s heart combined with the warmth of their embrace would quickly lull him to sleep. While Zhongli never did figure out if Retuo enjoyed their cuddling sessions as much as he did, since the older male never protested either, he always took it as silent consent. 

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.   

Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to get a full night of rest today.

But before he can set his mind at ease for the day, he needs to know. How can he forget? How can he stop thinking when that is the one prized thing he has over anyone else? 

“It won’t be easy, but you need to try alright, Zhongli? If not for yourself, then for me… No, for her dream. Harden your heart and kill your emotions. Such things aren’t necessary.”

Yes. All he needs to do is to steel his heart and get over it. There are so many more things he has to do. Life is never fair. Zhongli has always taken what it throws at him and faced it down with unfaltering resolve. 

“You know what to do, right?”

Yes. Pointless, useless sentiments.

He climbs on top of Retuo and brings his hands around the other’s neck. Squeezing down hard, the older male just lies still on the bed, allowing Zhongli to slowly crush the life out of him.

Why remember when all they do is cause more pain and suffering?

“Remember the good, purge the bad.”

No matter the odds, he would continue down this lonely path on his own, struggling to carve a spot in the world for himself.

After all, they are all gone with only him remaining. The taste of osmanthus wine might be the same but where are those who share the memory? The bottle of stolen wine lies shattered on the floor of his room, destroyed and gone forever all through his own actions. With him, he carries their hopes and dreams and aspirations. If not him, who else would continue to remember? 

He alone would—

He would—

...

Ah.

Retuo’s head snaps off his body, rolling across the floor with a morbid line of blood trailing behind. 

What was he supposed to do again?


The day of the auction finally arrives.

Zhongli isn’t sure what he was expecting. The day passes as normal with Childe chatting happily about something exciting that had occurred during his mission during lunch. In fact, if not for the alpha bringing in an extravagant outfit for Zhongli to wear closer to the evening, it would have seemed like just any other normal day. 

“This…”

Zhongli trails off the moment he gets a good look at the outfit. How would he put it? The only word he can think of to describe it is—

“It’s very golden.”

“Yeah!” The alpha holds up the dress to Zhongli, the long train of netting trailing across the carpeted ground. “I thought the colour would go wonderfully with your eyes.”

“I—”

Such an elaborate qipao can only have been custom made. In fact, he’s not even sure if it still counts as one with how greatly it has been modified. There is no way Childe could have just waltzed into any shop and grabbed it off the rack, not with the fine crystal studs woven into the embroidery. Zhongli runs his fingers over the golden thread that forms swirls and loops, gathering at the hem of the train while leaving the middle section bare. Then he spots a familiar motif on the back of the dress.

It is a stylised phoenix with its wings half spread, feathers and tail trailing downwards where it connects with the same lacing pattern covering the rest of the dress. Filling the entirety of the back of the qipao , Zhongli has an inkling of where the alpha might have picked his clothes up from.

“Childe, you didn’t happen to visit a wedding shop to have this made, did you?”

“Ah?” The ginger looks completely taken aback by his question. “I don’t know? Before my mission started, I dropped by this store selling a ton of fancy looking Chinese dresses and picked one that looked really good. But I thought its red theme looked kinda gaudy so I had them make a gold one instead.”

“...”

He eyes the complementary accessories waiting for him which consists of a white fur shawl, several hair pins and some fresh silk flowers.

“Should I put it on now?”

“Mm.” 

Childe begins to leave the room but turns back suddenly. 

“Can you wear it yourself? Or should I call Ekaterina for help!”

“I can manage.”

“Great!” Opening the door to leave, Childe reminds him one final time, “Don’t take too long though. We need to get going in around an hour.”

And with those parting words, the bedroom door closes leaving Zhongli all alone with the gold dress and hair ornaments. 

Zhongli allows himself roughly a minute to gather his thoughts before reaching out for the dress left on the table for him. Judging by the design of the qipao , it would be very difficult for him to wear it while sitting. Using the wall to help him, Zhongli manages to stand, his leg feeling almost alien with how unused it has become with bearing his weight. There is a faint ache as he shifts to drag the fabric over his head, but nothing bad enough to warrant him sitting back down immediately.

It takes a bit of manoeuvring but eventually, Zhongli manages to put on the qipao . Coming in two parts, he first has to wear the short sleeveless dress that is beige in colour. The tone is remarkably similar to his pale skin and cut in a shape that follows the basic outline of a traditional qipao , albeit one with a rather short skirt. The second part is the gold netting with complex embroidered patterns. He pulls it onto himself, shaking out the long train of fabric behind him and wondering how likely he is to trip with so much excess cloth dragging along the ground. 

Slightly worried that he might have worn the dress wrongly and made an absolute fool out of himself, Zhongli limps his way to the mirror, stunned at the reflection he sees.

If one can look past the likely exorbitant cost of the dress, it truly is a work of art. With the two pieces being worn together, he can finally see how its design is supposed to come together. 

The beige inner wear helps to preserve his modesty while also giving the impression of being bare skin. With the gold thread pressed against his body and hugging his every curve, any onlooker would be under the illusion of him being covered by merely gold lace and jewels, placed at strategic locations to emphasise his charming figure with enough coverage to remain chaste. It somehow manages to look elegant and alluring without being vulgar despite the amount of ‘skin’ he shows. Even someone like Zhongli who pays so little attention to finery and fashion can appreciate the masterful work he is wearing. 

As good as he looks, Zhongli can't help but let out a sigh. Going to the auction like this is bound to draw attention. Whether this is part of Childe’s plan to flaunt his new possession or to simply doll him up into something pretty and delectable, Zhongli has no clue. All he can do is try to make the best of the situation.

Alas, he isn't even done yet. Eyeing the other ornaments he is expected to wear, he picks up one of the simpler pins and draws his hair up into a half bun, holding it in place with the hairpin. Arranging his loose locks of hair over his shoulder, he applies his usual streaks of red under his eyes, pleased that the colour is somehow the exact same shade that he always uses. Unsure of what to do with the fresh silk flowers sitting innocently on the tray, Zhongli eventually just adds it onto his hairdo, using some bobby pins to hold them in place.

There are still a ton of other things that Childe left for him to use including broaches, necklaces, bracelets and some he can't even begin to figure out how to wear. Figuring that he has worn enough finery to hopefully please the alpha’s expensive taste, he slips on the pair of golden heels that are thankfully not too high and wraps the fur shawl around his shoulders.

He glances at himself apprehensively in the mirror again. The gorgeous omega that stares back is hardly recognisable to him. It’s undeniable that the dress and accessories that Childe had picked out for him suits him to a scary degree, but such splendour against his body makes him feel like a stranger in his own skin, much like the few other times he had been forced to dress up while under cover. 

Touching the bandage around his neck absently, he notes how even that imperfection doesn't seem to affect his overall image that much. 

His wayward thoughts give way to the throbbing of his leg, reminding him that he has probably been standing for too long. He makes it back to the bed with wobbly steps, partly due to the weakness of his legs and his unfamiliarity with walking in heels.

He makes it back just in time, as a knock sounds out before the door bursts open to reveal a well dressed Childe, looking a little too excitable in contrast to his sophisticated outfit.

For a moment, Zhongli is rendered speechless as he stares at the younger male in front of him. 

Childe is wearing a white suit with an odd sort of cape replacing a standard jacket. Rather than looking tacky and old, it instead hangs off only one of his shoulders, reaching down to his legs in a rather fashionable manner. Decorating it are trimmings of gold that go around his collar and cuffs as well, a golden rose emblazoned at the top of his tie as the final touch. 

White and gold; they make for quite the matching couple.

Disturbed by his thoughts, Zhongli tries to focus on something else instead and ends up making eye contact with the alpha who is gawking at him in awe. 

“Zhongli…” The omega shifts uncomfortably on the bed, keenly aware of how the other is approaching him gradually. “You look amazing.”

Holding still as Childe fusses over him, from shifting aside the long train of material that spills onto the ground to adding an extra hairpin into his hair, Zhongli grows increasingly uncomfortable at how pleased the other seems to be. Like this, he feels something like a doll for its master to dress up prettily to his tastes. The amount of money being showered onto him is nothing to be scoffed at, but the circumstances in which he obtained it prevents Zhongli from taking any joy in the situation.

“I mean you’re already perfect on a normal day but this— Oh! I can't believe I almost forgot.”

Childe smiles at him before pulling out a small box from the pocket of his jacket. Zhongli half expects the other to pull out some gaudy looking ring with an oversized diamond attached, so he is greatly surprised when a single earring is pulled out instead.  

“I bought this on a last-minute whim since the colour of the gem here reminded me of your eyes.”

The alpha shows him the earring to illustrate his point. At a glance, Zhongli can tell that the single jewel is made from pure cor lapis that must have cost a fortune due to its rarity and size. In contrast to the other fanciful things Childe had laid out for him to choose from earlier, this one is actually rather simple in design. Apart from the cor lapis that is attached to a hook, the only other component of the earring is a long while tassel that dangles from the amber gem. 

There is, however, just one issue.

“My ears aren’t pierced.” 

“Hm? That isn't— Eh?”

Childe immediately brings his face closer to inspect Zhongli’s earlobe, nearly causing the omega to fall over on the bed in shock.

“Your ears aren't pierced.”

“... Yes.”

“But, but!”

He sounds so scandalised as though he has just been told that he cannot torture his enemies to get information out of them. Funny how they have been living together for so long and this is the first oversight on the alpha’s part.

“We’ll go get them pierced now!” 

Caught off guard by the alpha’s enthusiasm, Zhongli is completely unprepared when he is scooped up into Childe’s arms. The ginger is running out of the room, shouting out orders to his servants to bring the wheelchair and crutches along as well as preparing the car. 

Slightly vexed by the unexpected turn of events, Zhongli has no choice but to go with the flow. It doesn’t look like Childe will take no for an answer, not with how he is treating this as a matter of life and death.

Besides, it would just be a quick ear piercing. He has suffered far worse injuries before. How bad could it be?


It’s bad.

Zhongli cringes as he recalls how the scene at the beauty salon had played out. It had been bad but not for the reasons he had expected. He had already been half certain that the whole detour was planned out as a trap or some sort of test for him. 

Instead, they end up waltzing into a decently filled shop at the end of a decently busy street. Childe threw the doors open and demanded they be allowed to go first, citing it as an emergency all while carrying Zhongli in his arms.

Zhongli wanted to die on the spot.

The glares and appalled looks levelled at him made his face burn with shame and he desperately wished to leap out of the alpha’s hold and run for the hills. His only saving grace was how the shop owners had been rather understanding when they heard that Zhongli only required his left ear to be pierced and allowed them to jump the queue.

… Well, the copious amount of mora Childe had stuffed into their hands probably helped as well.

The moment his ear is pierced, Childe is upon him giving his earlobe a few cursory rubs before hooking the earring into the newly made hole. The extra weight of it on his left side makes Zhongli feel rather off-kilter, something he finds it hard to adapt to as even a slight motion of his head would send the tassel swinging. 

Zhongli has never been one to wear jewellery. Suffice to say, this would be one of his first experiences with it.

Now, they are well on their way to the venue. He is loaded into a sleek black Porsche with Childe climbing in after him. Zhongli never gets the chance to see the driver who is blocked from view with a sheet of tinted glass that is already in place before he boards. It doesn't appear to interfere with sound as they start moving along smoothly the moment Childe commands so.

That being said, it leads to the rather awkward situation of two passengers sitting at the far end of the back seats. 

Much to his relief, the alpha doesn’t seem too keen on initiating conversation, instead using his phone once again. 

As the minutes trickle by, however, Zhongli begins to greatly regret the silence between them. While Childe has his phone to keep himself entertained, Zhongli has nothing except the clothes on his body. Already he finds himself fiddling aimlessly with the fur shawl wrapped around himself, tufts of white fur being plucked out by his idle fingers. Hesitantly, he glances over at the alpha wondering just what he can be doing. There is a frown on the other’s face, a faint trace of worry and frustration in his eyes. 

Childe taps the screen once, his frown deepening, before going back to staring at it in great concentration. 

The other’s behaviour has Zhongli understandably worried as he tries to puzzle out what might be causing him such anxiety. On that train of thought, Zhongli wonders if he should use this opportunity to learn more about Childe. While he certainly does know a lot about the Eleventh Harbinger, he knows practically nothing about Childe, the eighteen-year-old teenager who just happens to be an alpha. 

In these months he has come to know the other, Zhongli loathes to admit it but his impression of Childe has changed vastly. 

The Eleventh Harbinger he knows is cruel and callous, always running around to look for a fight and to stir up trouble. 

The Childe he knows is playful and charming, oddly kind in his own way while also clearly dangerous at the same time. 

Zhongli reaches deep down inside and realises, to his great horror, that the once uniform disgust and loathing he holds towards all members of the Fatui is absent, at least, towards the bright-eyed harbinger in particular. In place is more of a bone-deep wariness, borne from years of being forced to look out for himself and deep-rooted fear of loss and betrayal. Any sort of goodwill or even a semblance of trust is thankfully absent, but he fears it is only a matter of time before he starts to crack under the persistent good treatment. It is only his jaded mindset and a healthy dose of scepticism that keeps him sober, preventing him from falling into the fantasy of being a princess meeting her prince charming. It almost makes him wish that Childe would start hitting him or kill a person in his face if only to affirm the darkness present in his heart.

The new knowledge frightens him. Retuo and Guizhong have always described him as a rock, stubborn and steadfast, clinging onto his views with an uncanny tenacity. However, even mountains crumble under the passage of time through the gentle caress of a trickling stream. Slowly, yet surely, the water would erode away at the hard material, stripping away layers of bedrock and minerals.

The more he stays with Childe, the more he learns about him. The more he learns, the more he will start to see the other as a human – someone with thoughts and feelings just like himself. 

But in the end, they are foes.

It doesn’t matter how nice of a person Childe might or might not be. It doesn’t change the fact that they are on the opposite sides of the law – enemies in the truest sense. The first person to weaken in this battle of attrition would undoubtedly lose.

The priority would always be to escape, with staying and gathering more intel on the Fatui being a consolation prize.

And Zhongli just knows that if things continue down this path, it might be a battle he will—

“Ahhh! I hate this stupid game!”

Childe positively screeches, throwing his phone so hard onto the padded seats that it bounces a few times.

Zhongli presses himself against the car door in alarm, trying to put as much distance between themselves as possible. Then his mind registers the words and comes to a halt.

Game? 

Childe is upset over a mere phone game?

For the sake of his continued sanity, Zhongli tries very hard not to think about the possible implications.

“Stupid Scaramouche and his stupid high score! Who even needs math when you can just beat people up?”

Against his better judgement, Zhongli finds his eyes straying to the screen of the discarded phone. Even from this angle where the display is upside down, he is able to recognise the well-known grid of numbers.

“Sudoku…?”

“Do you know how to play it too?”

Startled, Zhongli curses himself for showing any form of interest. Now, he would be forced to interact with Childe and…

Who knows what that would bring? As much further understanding of what makes Childe tick benefits him, it also has the downside of making him feel more like a person.

“Can you solve it?” Childe is leaning over excitedly as he brings the phone closer for Zhongli to see. “That midget has been holding his higher scores over me for weeks! If I can solve this one quickly and maybe a few more after that, it’ll be me laughing at him instead.”

Flustered by the other’s close proximity, Zhongli somehow managed to prevent himself from lashing out. Instead, he carefully begins to consider the conundrum before him. A normal omega’s response would be to shyly deny the offer, opting to offer spiritual support and watch as Childe completes the puzzle. It is what he has been mostly doing this whole time, acting docile, demure – never acting out of his lane. 

… The incident with his neck had been an outlier. And besides, it had served as a very effective method in keeping his thoughts grounded in reality. 

However, the offhand remarks that several others have tossed around gives him pause. Childe is known to like the unique. He takes in seemingly ‘damaged goods’ and other interesting specimens, toying with them for a period of time before ultimately disposing of them when their time is up. 

Why would they be discarded so abruptly? Is there a common factor among them all that led to their ultimate demise?

For the first time, Zhongli considers a different possibility. He peers at the brightly lit screen, mind already beginning to fill in some of the empty boxes with numbers. 

What if he has been going about this the wrong way the whole time? 

“You should put an eight here.” Zhongli reaches over and drags the black number across the touch screen into its rightful box. “Remove the zero here and use a three instead.”

He notes Childe’s current pathetic score and nearly does a double take. 

“Honestly, if you wish to beat your friend, I would suggest restarting the level and trying from scratch to complete it with a better time.”

“I-is that so?”

There is a fleeting flash of something in Childe's eyes as his body seizes up. It might have been a surprise but it is too fast for Zhongli to properly make out. In fact, it makes him wonder if he imagined the whole thing in the first place. 

“Well then,” says Childe as he places the phone expectantly into Zhongli’s hands. “You’re gonna help me with that right, Xiansheng?”

More than just a simple phone being entrusted to him, there is an implicit suggestion of something weightier being given to him right this moment.

His hand only trembles slightly as he sets the phone down on his lap, fingers poised over it.

Maybe Childe got tired of his previous toys as they grew used to a life of luxury, becoming domesticated sheep that grew plump with pampering. Then when they were at their ripest, they were slaughtered, their dismembered bodies and spilt entrails serving as one last entertainment for the unhinged alpha once they stopped dancing to his tune. 

Perhaps if he could keep Childe interested long enough, he could escape their grisly fate all while exposing the inner workings of the Fatui one by one. His identity might be blown, but his continued survival only proves that Childe puts his personal interests before all else. 

And after all, is it not in everyone’s nature to simply underestimate omegas time and time again? 

For the first time in forever, the small smile that creeps onto his face turns just a tad more genuine. 

“The first thing you should do is note down the possible numbers that can fill up each individual square without violating the One Rule…”


“We’ve arrived, sir.”

The driver’s voice rings out from the front as the car comes to a halt.

Having long helped Childe reach an impressive new high score for his rivalry with the other harbinger, they ended up having their first proper conversation in the backseats of the Porsche. The previous times they interacted can't quite be considered as one, as they are more akin to Childe asking questions or telling him things while Zhongli gives the blandest answer he can muster. 

This time was different. After helping Childe with his sudoku score, they ended up on the topic of hobbies with the alpha bemoaning the lack of fun things to do. He listed off several intimidating sounding game titles that Zhongli has never heard before, explaining how they helped to stave off the boredom when he had no missions to complete. 

Zhongli was only mildly confused as he did his best to follow along, wondering if he should even bother remembering such facts. It got to the point where Childe somehow managed to go a full circle, lamenting about his lack of hobbies once again before redirecting the question to Zhongli. 

Not seeing the harm in telling the other such trivial information, Zhongli had hesitantly revealed a little about himself, citing his love for reading and studying nature as just some of his many pastimes. He was about to delve a little deeper into his interests when a sudden thought occurred to him. 

Shouldn’t Childe have been terribly bored taking care of Zhongli all those weeks ago? Having to keep an eye on an injured omega too feeble to do anything more than lie on the bed seems to be just the type of thing that would drive the thrill-seeking alpha up the wall.

Unfortunately, he never gets an answer to that question. 

Childe gets out of the car, leaving Zhongli alone for a short few seconds before the door at his side is opened. 

The wheelchair is unfolded and set up nicely for him to get into. Declining Childe’s offer to be lifted up into the device is just one of the few ways he has left to exercise some modicum of control over his situation. 

Honestly, Zhongli is pretty certain that his condition is not as bad as the alpha makes it out to be. Sure, his leg might still be rather sore, but both the wound on his arm and leg is mostly healed by this point. Nothing short of seriously strenuous activities like a fight or sprinting would be likely to hurt him further, even with the doctor expressing concern about his slower than usual healing. Only the long tear on his neck continues to ache constantly as a reminder of his foolishness. 

Once Childe is sure that Zhongli is seated snugly on the wheelchair with the long, flowing ends of his dress gathered up and tucked neatly to the side, he begins to push Zhongli towards the glamorous building in front of them. 

To Zhongli’s astonishment, he recognises the place. From what Zhongli understands about these black market auction events, they often operate in secret at locations where they can easily be covered up by other activities. Dedicated auction houses are rare and have to undergo strict rounds of perpetual inspections to ensure they are not selling contraband items. This means it is practically impossible to conduct any shady business there. 

It appears that the tall building made of white marble is currently one of their hideouts. While he has passed by it occasionally during work, never has he entered it. After all, it is located on a street frequented by only the rich with too much excess income to spend. If he remembers correctly, this place has multiple large stages to host musical plays or operas, with the front being a restaurant that serves high tea. The rest of the empty space might either be filled with art exhibits or shops selling their wares at exorbitant prices. 

Now that he remembers the original purpose of the building, it only makes more sense that an illegal auction would be run here. Whichever third party organising the event sure did choose a good spot. All they had left to do after securing a location would be to send invites to interested parties and strike deals with suppliers, the Fatui just being one of the many groups using their services to sell off their wares to rake in a profit. 

The revolving doors are held open for them as they approach the entrance, with the doorman giving them a welcoming little bow. While the deferential behaviour unsettles Zhongli somewhat, Childe appears to take it in stride, even acknowledging the action with a little nod as they enter the building.

Upon setting foot into the place, Zhongli is immediately blinded by not just the bright lights, but also by how posh the area looks. 

White marble lines the floor and walls, the illumination of orange lights reflecting off their surface. There is a huge fountain in the shape of a naked woman pouring water from a jug in the middle of the lounge, where several people are seated and having what looks to be high tea. Others mill around aimlessly, admiring the display of priceless artworks while others browse the bar located at the far end. 

Childe immediately makes himself home at one of the couches, parking Zhongli beside him before flopping onto the plush cushions in a rather ungraceful manner. Ever one to watch his image, Zhongli acts like a good little decoration, keeping still with his hands folded neatly over his lap. It isn't long before a waitress takes note of their presence, walking over to take their order. 

“Oh no. We aren’t here to eat. We’re here to watch a play.”

Childe passes her two tickets from his pocket while flashing her a charming smile.

The moment the woman’s eyes land on the slips of paper, her entire demeanour changes. While she had already been friendly and professional enough for her job before, she is even more accommodating now. Her posture is rigid and her smile is frozen as she returns the tickets back to the alpha.

“Of course sir! But since the play won't be starting until an hour from now, would you like to order some food first?”

“Hm.” Childe studies the menu proffered to him. “Watch closely then.”

Once he makes sure the waitress has her eyes on him, Childe begins pointing to a few items on the menu in a methodical fashion. Zhongli’s eyes narrow, knowing at once that this must be part of the process to be allowed entrance into the illegal auction. No wonder they were never able to infiltrate the event, not when there are so many layers of security to bypass. In fact, he isn't even sure if this is the extent of it.  

Unfortunately, even if he is to memorise the exact steps that Childe takes right now to verify his identity, it’s unlikely that the code would work twice. Besides, it is near impossible to see what Childe is pointing at from his angle. If anything, he should try focusing more on the people attending the auction and the way things operated. 

Giving the waitress a word of thanks, the harbinger finally finishes up with his ‘ordering’ as she takes the menu back and leaves. Then he turns to face Zhongli with a sly smile on his face.

“I hope you didn't actually think we were going to have tea here and watch a play.”

Zhongli shakes his head but doesn't bother with answering. There isn't much to say anyway.

“Say, do you know this musical here on the ticket?”

Childe gives him one of the tickets and Zhongli accepts it silently, studying the printed words on it. The ticket feels like the real deal, made of thickened, expensive paper with a QR code in the corner. Even for someone as keen-eyed and astute as himself, it would be difficult for him to imagine it as anything other than its intended purpose. 

“Miss Saigon…?”

Zhongli reads out the foreign-sounding title of the play, going through his memory and is disappointed when the name fails to ring any bells.

“Mm, it’s quite a well-known play at least back in Snezhnaya. It takes place in a fictional world, where a man goes to fight a war in a foreign country, ends up falling for a woman there and sleeps with her. Since he comes from a place much better off than her own, he promises to bring her along with him back to his home country once it’s time for him to go.”

“I take that it is a simple tale of star crossed lovers that probably doesn't end well given the context.”

“Hahaha! Zhongli, you're so smart.”

Childe laughs heartily as he holds his sides, seemingly uncaring of how loud he is being.

“But you're right. The story does end in tragedy as the man returns to his own country leaving the poor woman to give birth and raise their son on her own.”

Frowning, Zhongli wonders why Childe even bothers to tell him the summary of this tale. Is the alpha trying to test him or convey something cryptic through this story?

“Actually, don't you think our relationship is pretty similar to this story?”

“How so?”

“Well, for instance, I’m your saviour that got you out of a rather nasty situation no? We fell in love at first sight and I promised to sweep you off your feet and bring you to live a much better life. Unlike the man in the story who leaves the poor girl to a sad fate alone, I am true to my words though.”

The parallels are there to an extent, that is, if you are willing to close one eye and overlook some leaps in logic. Zhongli certainly doesn't remember any sort of romantic promises between them or love on his end. The closest he can think of is that brief moment where Childe had asked him to give up in exchange for medical treatment as he was bleeding to death.

“Although now that I think about it, you probably wouldn’t be lying down obediently waiting to be saved like the girl in the story. In fact, you would likely have beaten my subordinates to the ground if given the chance and carved out a better life for yourself on your own.”

The harbinger’s smile turns sickeningly sweet.

“Oh, silly me. That's precisely what you did. How close were you to escaping again hm?”

Zhongli tenses. He tries very hard to prevent his eyes darting to the various exits in the building as his muscles tense up and his heartbeat accelerates.  

Around them, the rest of the wealthy folk and staff members continue their business, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere between one alpha and omega. It becomes clear when nothing changes between them for a while that Childe is waiting for an answer from him.

Zhongli swallows, feeling his saliva travel down his gullet painfully obviously as his throat trembles and bobs. It becomes something of a trained response for the long tear on his neck to flare up in agony whenever he is under stress or in a bad situation. 

“I…” His throat is achingly dry. “I thank you greatly for helping me, Childe. I wouldn't be able to be here, seated so comfortably without your help. I’m not sure how I could ever repay you.”

Childe scoffs.

“That’s a pretty cute answer Xiansheng. There’s no need to be so modest, you know?”

Despite the shawl wrapped snugly around himself and the finery decorating his body, Zhongli feels incredibly naked under the other’s gaze. Childe is still staring at him expectantly, legs crossed languidly as he rests his arm on the armrest, propping his head up with his hand. 

Deep blue eyes bore into his own. Zhongli sucks in a deep breath and decides to take a leap of faith.

“Your men are brutes, especially that one alpha who shot me. I can't say I would treat him too nicely if we ever meet again. Besides, it’s little wonder that anyone would strive to escape from that place, with the terrible conduct of your men and the bleak future awaiting you should you stay.”

“Ahahahaha! Yes, that guy. Don't worry Xiansheng, I haven't forgotten about him. It’s just because I was busy helping you recover and handling some troubling matters that I haven't dealt with him yet. I promise once I get the chance, I’ll be sure to show you his punishment alright?”

“... Thank you…?” Zhongli trails off uncertainly, unsure if that is really something he wants to see.

Their conversation is thankfully cut short by the arrival of one of the staff members, a male this time, dressed smartly in a simple tuxedo.

“This way please sir.”

Not even acknowledging Zhongli’s presence, the man begins to lead them to a lift guarded by two burly looking alphas. As Childe pushes him along, Zhongli silently mulls over their exchange all while continuing to observe his surroundings. For a moment, he had been so sure that the alpha had brought up the topic of his disruption back in the warehouse as an excuse to humiliate or punish him somehow, even if the setting and his actions so far doesn't support that theory. Then again, when has the harbinger ever made sense? He is probably as likely to drown Zhongli in Mora as he is to casually demand that the random alphas around them rape him on the spot.

Childe shows their tickets once again to the guards as they are allowed to enter the lift. The liftman doesn't even need to be instructed as he presses a button, causing the lift to descend. 

“Oh, I forgot to mention this earlier, but pretty much all the patrons here will cover their faces up with a mask.” Childe digs out his signature Fatui mask from his pocket and slips it onto his face. “After all, no respected member of society would want to be recognised attending this sort of thing eh?”

… So much for remembering faces then.

“Unfortunately for you”—he nudges Zhongli’s earring, seeming to take great joy in watching the tassel sway back and forth—“omegas aren't allowed to wear them lest they cover up their pretty faces and ruin the view.”  

With a soft ding, the elevator door opens revealing a sizable crowd of masked people loitering around outside the theatre doors. A whole array of refreshments are laid out on tables for the guests to eat while the service staff walk around with glasses of wine balanced on trays.  

The attendees are dressed impeccably in fine cloth and elaborate masks that hide their identity. The men wear suits and dress shirts, while the women wear a much larger range of apparel, some bordering on the verge of scandalousness from how revealing they are. 

Even from such a distance, the omegas are easy to spot owing to their lack of masks. Their clothing too is elaborate and clearly expensive. The key difference when compared to their masters’ outfits, however, is how attention-grabbing they are dolled up to be. Each omega Zhongli lays his eyes on seems to be dressed more outrageously than the last, with one being practically naked save for the abundance of glitter and ribbons wrapped around her privates. It is as though all the rich bastards here see their omegas as little more than pets to show off in a competition of who can create the most attractive bit of eye candy.

There is only one problem with that though. 

The moment Childe pushes him out of the lift, all eyes turn to stare at them. Zhongli can imagine a number of reasons why they would be so eye-catching. It is not every day that anyone gets to lay their eyes on a harbinger, provided they recognised Childe through his mask. 

The other point of interest could only be himself, seeing as how a wheelchair-bound omega is incredibly rare. Damaged goods are, after all, better off switched for new and whole ones. And for those people with a sadistic streak who liked to torture their slaves with all forms of bodily and mental harm, well those poor things probably aren't very fit to bring around in the first place, much less alive at all. 

As such, Zhongli bears the gazes on him with gritted teeth, the crowd making no effort to conceal their blatant stares. While they have the privilege of masks to retain their anonymity, he is afforded no such luxury himself.

“Nervous?”

Childe’s teasing voice reaches his ear even as he continues to walk towards a crowd of mostly men. 

Hesitating a little on what sort of response would be appropriate, Zhongli eventually settles with nodding his head shyly. 

The grin that Childe gives him is oddly proud as he rests a hand on the omega’s shoulder.

“You're my omega. Do you really think I’ll let anyone even think of coming close to you?”

“Besides,”—the hand on his shoulder grips him just a little harder—“it’s nothing you won't be able to handle eh?”

A shudder runs down Zhongli's spine as his eyes narrow.

All too soon, they reach the crowd of people that Childe had been heading towards since the start. They shift to better accommodate the new arrivals, allowing the harbinger to walk into their midst. Zhongli can feel all the eyes on him as the discussion and their wine drinking stops, some merely curious while far too many are less innocent in nature.

“Tartaglia! It’s great to see you again.” 

“Likewise, Tahara-san. You're looking pretty good yourself.”

Effortlessly, Childe begins chatting animatedly with the dark-haired man wearing a surprisingly simple silver mask with minimal decoration on it. The same can't be said for the rest of the men who listen in on the conversation, occasionally adding on some input of their own. To combat his nerves and inherent boredom, Zhongli begins to give a rough estimate of the masks worn by each person, trying to evaluate the authenticity of some of the more dubious-looking gems. 

“—and to think you finally decided to bring one of your little toys with you! It appears that I’m the winner of our bet Paulus.”

The now named Paulus has thinning hair and a rather plump figure. He clicks his tongue audibly as he takes a swig from his glass, waving the other speaker off flippantly. 

“I’ll pay you back another time. More importantly, shouldn't you be showing the pretty thing off to us Tartaglia? I can't be the only one eager to see it properly. Why’s it even in a wheelchair anyway? Was there an accident during transportation or something?”

Zhongli baulks at the brief bout of icy cold aura that seeps out of the alpha standing by his side, wondering what could have brought it on. However, true to his title, Childe is quick to reign in his true feelings. The murderous rage disappears so quickly he doubts anyone other than himself would have noticed it.

“Mm, you could say that I suppose.”

Then Childe is holding his arm out to Zhongli expectantly, clearly indicating to him to stand. 

Trying his best to hide the grimace on his face, Zhongli lifts himself off the wheelchair, grasping onto the offered limb for support. Somehow, he manages to stand smoothly and take a few steps forward to follow Childe, the extra dose of painkillers he requested probably helping in that regard. He isn't sure if the sharp inhale he hears from behind him is part of his imagination. Either way, the flowing skirt of his qipao trails behind him and fans out against the ground much like a peacock's tail. Having witnessed it back in Childe’s home first hand, he is aware of just how stunning a sight it makes. 

“You’ve really struck the jackpot this time eh, Tartaglia? I’ve never seen something as...breathtakingly exquisite as it before.”

The man’s praise is met with a chorus of agreements. As the receiver of such praise, it only fills Zhongli with dread instead as he shifts uneasily where he stands.

A hand snakes its way around Zhongli’s waist. He doesn't resist as he is pulled closer to Childe where he comes to rest comfortably by his side. Much to his annoyance, he notes how he is still slightly shorter than the alpha despite wearing heels. 

“He is quite the beauty right?” Childe’s voice is a mixture of smug boastfulness and irritation. “I only met him around two months ago which is why you haven't seen him before.”

“Would you consider lending him to me for a night or two?” Paulus is quick to make an offer. “Or if anyone else is interested, I’m more than happy to share.”

“No.”

“I do believe I have a few new associates that your father would be more than happy to be introduced to—” 

“Mention my father one more time and I can guarantee you will not be receiving any more help with evading taxes.”

That shuts the plump man up real fast. Learning from the blunder their companion made, the rest of the crowd hold their tongues, no longer attempting to pester Childe with more offers to sleep with Zhongli.

“Well then, if that's all you guys have to say, I’ll be taking my leave first.”

The pleasant look Childe wears looks so thin it’s a wonder how none of the men around notices. They send Zhongli and Childe off merrily, even drinking a toast in honour of their ‘fateful meeting’. It’s baffling how quickly they forget the earlier incident or have skin so thick to not notice how unhappy the harbinger is. 

“Ah right.” 

Childe pushes Zhongli to a relatively empty area next to a table of pastries and fruit salads.

“I forgot to mention this but I need to go discuss things with another bunch of important people. You know, keeping up relations and forming new contracts? And I might have to hound a few people who owe us things while checking in on some individuals that the Fatui have a vested interest in reeling over to our side.”

He picks up a daintily sliced sandwich of perfect bite-size from the table and tosses it into his mouth. 

“It might be a bit boring for you to listen in on our conversation, so I'm gonna leave you here instead. Feel free to grab a drink or snack if you’re that bored.”

Childe offers Zhongli an eclair from the selection, shrugging and eating it himself when Zhongli doesn't move to take it.

“Oh and if you really need it, feel free to use my name to drive off others. I'm highly doubtful that anyone here is ignorant enough not to recognise my name or title as the Eleventh Harbinger.”

With that final line, Childe takes off merrily as he heads towards the far end of the room before disappearing as he turns down a corner. 

Speechless, Zhongli can only watch as the alpha leaves him, leaving him alone in this den of ravenous wolves that would eat him up if given any chance. Already, he can feel many eyes on him, gleefully leering at his body and face. 

Is the harbinger crazy? There is no way he trusts Zhongli enough to leave him all alone when he is in a, technically, public space. There is nothing to stop him from just up and leaving right this moment. Not to mention how subtly protective he had been over Zhongli earlier when the other men suggested bedding him for a night or two. 

Except, there is an abundance of Fatui members stationed innocuously around the venue. If not for him actively looking out for them, it is likely that Zhongli would have looked past their signature blank masks and insignias. He has an inkling that they are constantly keeping an eye on him. It isn't too much of a stretch to believe that they would immediately halt him if he tries to leave this area.

Still, Zhongli likes to believe that there is the slightest chance. Images of their route taken to get to this spot flash past in his mind. To get back to the lounge area of the building where they had sat for a moment earlier would mean having to ride that elevator back up again, but not before getting past the many guards watching all the entrances. Would they really just allow a clearly pampered omega dressed in such finery to leave the building without any supervision? 

Zhongli bites his lips in contemplation. While he has faith in his acting skills, some things just can't be waved away that easily if one even decides to use a little bit of common sense. On the off chance that there is even the slightest bit of a commotion, there is no doubt in his mind that Childe would be informed. Is that really a risk he is willing to take, especially when he has just smoothed over his relationship with the alpha somewhat into this sham of a blissful relationship?

Although, it is the current issue in front of him that he should probably be worrying about first before he can start having designs on escape, for approaching him right this moment is a handful of alphas, all masked and smelling faintly of desire.

Notes:

-‘Gege’ aka 哥哥 means elder brother but it can be used in a number of contexts. It can be used to address your elder brother or someone unrelated to you but very close. These days, it’s also being used as a way to flirt with guys hahaha.
-The phoenix is often seen as a symbol of virtue and grace. Due to its belief to bring good luck, it’s often a pattern you will find on wedding dresses while the men get dragons. Just like how dragons are associated with emperors of the past, the phoenix is the symbol for the empress.
-Red is just an auspicious colour in Chinese culture in general due to being associated with the ‘fire’ element. If you ever attend a Chinese wedding or a Chinese New Year celebration, be prepared to see a sea of red.
-Zhongli's dress for reference if anyone's interested, just imagine it's gold instead haha: Fancy Qipao

im sorry i took like 10yrs to get this out...i got carried away watching an esports tourney >.>
hopefully u enjoy this extra long chappy as an apology

 

twitter
bottom zhongli discord sever