For their first expedition, Zhongli brings only one companion. The Qixing are already doing their best to keep any information about the Chasm under wraps, and he does not intend to draw unwanted attention. He’s seen enough of human interference with these matters.
Even at midday, the abandoned quarry is unusually cold. He checks the map Ganyu gave him. Their target is located on the surface, thankfully, but it will take a long hike over the Chasm’s many ravines and peaks before they can even catch a glimpse of it. No problem for Ganyu with her qilin blood, but Zhongli has no such advantages. He really hasn’t gotten any younger.
Though he doubts that would help. Behind him, Childe struggles up a rock pile, not bothering to hide the sounds of his laboured breathing. Even now he refuses to take his coat off, shrugging off Zhongli every time he offers to carry it for him.
‘Wear it properly then,’ Zhongli said to him at the entrance as the Millelith officer recorded their details. ‘Loose clothing cannot be practical for climbing.’
‘But the weather’s too hot for that,’ said Childe, shivering immediately when a gust of cold wind reaches him from the depths of the mines.
Now, with smug satisfaction, Zhongli watches him undo the brooch on his coat and fasten up the buttons. The feeling morphs quickly into guilt when he sees the bandages beneath his shirt.
‘We shall take a rest here,’ he says. Childe opens his mouth as if to argue, but his tiredness forces him to join his companion on the ground, dangerously close to the edge of a cliff.
This should be the last stretch. Zhongli traces the marked path on his map with a finger. One last perilous trek along this cliff, and they’ll reach the entrance to the cave.
‘I never understood,’ says Childe, voice faint from exhaustion, ‘why you have to wear that overcoat everywhere you go.’
‘The same reason you wear your suit jacket like a cape.’
Childe’s resulting laugh quickly morphs into a wheeze. ‘Alright. Maybe I should stop talking for now.’
They’re protected from the noon sun by the cliff face. For what must be the fortieth time, Zhongli wishes for sunlight. Echoes have always been unusually cold, and this cloudy day only amplifies the heaviness in the air.
‘I’m fine now.’ Childe gets to his feet and stretches. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Five more minutes.’
‘I—fine. I can feel you looking at me like that…’
There are no hawks soaring above today. Zhongli is used to wildlife avoiding echoes, but experience does not make him any less uneasy. It’s the sheer silence of it all, he realises. Even the winds, strong as they are, remain quiet. Mourners at a funeral.
Unconsciously, he feels his gaze drawn towards the very centre of the Chasm, at the entrance to its underground mines. If he didn’t know what was down there, he could almost enjoy the concentric cinnabar cliffs, crowned by qingxin and violetgrass. He takes a deep breath of the air, relishing the way it stings his lungs.
The pain at least reminds him that he is here, and he needs to stay here.
He stands up and checks the map again. ‘Childe, let’s go.’
Childe doesn’t answer. Zhongli turns to look at him.
He’s kneeling on the very edge of the cliff, his head tilted at an angle, unusually still. Zhongli hesitates, not wanting to startle him. He settles on giving a small cough.
Childe’s head snaps in his direction this time. He stands up, hands in his pocket, eye unblinking.
‘I hear someone down there.’
Before he can take a single step, Zhongli grabs his coat. ‘We cannot afford to waste any more time.’
‘I’ll be quick,’ says Childe, trying half-heartedly to free himself from Zhongli’s grip. ‘I can handle this on my own, trust me.’
‘That can wait,’ says Zhongli. ‘To delay a task assigned by the Qixing will have consequences.’
Childe groans. ‘Fine.’
Zhongli tucks the map back in his pocket and leads the way down the cliff, the last stretch feeling longer than reasonable.
~~~
Childe is bored.
He doesn’t blame Zhongli (if anything, the guy is determined to stick to a relatively normal routine), but there, right below their perch, was the promise of a challenge. Something that would take more effort than the clients who’ve never taken more than three steps out of their compounds.
He discreetly scratches at the bandages under his shirt. If he’d just healed it up as soon as he got it… but no. He will not pay such a heavy price for something this trivial.
The air gets colder the closer they get to their destination. Childe rests his hand on the handle of his pistol, noting the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Zhongli had told him about the general layout of the place, and he knows this is the entrance to a mine.
A mine where an echo rests.
He thought he’d lost the ability to feel fear, but that was before last week, when Zhongli had told him over a glass of wine about his true expertise.
Gods can be killed, the man had said, none of the usual airiness in his voice. But they don’t die. Sometimes, when they wish, they return… And almost never in their original bodies.
Childe had laughed, said if it was equivalent to dying as a squirrel and coming back a lobster.
Hm. Imagine this. Zhongli had taken a swig from his glass. You lose your fingers. You have the ability to reattach them to your hand. But you cannot, for the life of you, remember how they go back on. Is it the end with your nail that you should attach to your knuckles? Or do you somehow need to separate that digit joint by joint, and figure it out from there?
Most gods do not comprehend mortal shells, because they have no need for them unless they wish to interact with our realm. Childe remembers being unusually quiet as Zhongli explained this part, his voice low. Many of their first attempts are disastrous in more ways than one. If such a fragile shell should fail to contain their divinity…
Back in the Chasm, Childe rests his other hand on the hilt of his blades.
The cave they enter is not one of the Chasm’s infamous underground mines, but one of the many openings that line the cliffs, overlooking the basin in the middle. Even with his limited eyesight, Childe can feel the darkness beckoning them, its tendrils gentle and cold. Zhongli has taken out a flashlight from that seemingly bottomless bag of his to light the way. Pausing for a moment, he offers a hand to Childe, quizzical.
Childe hesitates for a moment, then takes it.
This mine only has one path, and Childe thanks the gods once again. This cold seeps into his bones, unlike the everwinter of his homeland. There, at least, it is honest about its lack of mercy. This cold feels deceptive. Hungry.
He hears Zhongli take a sharp breath and come to a stop. Childe doesn’t push on further. He does not fear, he should not fear, but he is in uncharted territory here.
He takes a few sneaky steps close to Zhongli, who is fishing a camera out of his bag.
‘This one is a polaroid,’ he says when Childe leans over his shoulder. ‘These work where digital cameras don’t. And,’ he adds, listening to Childe shuffling his feet, ‘I know that you are unable to see very well, but please do not try to lean around this corner. I am unsure as to what will happen to a human if they happen to glance directly upon an undead echo.’
‘And you’re different?’
His words sound sharper than he intended, but he feels Zhongli smile. ‘I don’t break my own rules.’
Childe hears the camera shutter click.
‘Here,’ says Zhongli. ‘Could you hold the torch for me? I need to take some notes.’
His hands are shaking again for the first time in years. Still, he determinedly holds the torch still, listening to the gentle scratch of Zhongli’s pen against paper.
The air is still cold. Childe moves closer to his companion. He knows the effects a dead god’s corpse has on mortals, the way even a glimpse can weaken the mind, but here, right next to Zhongli and his stacks upon stacks of notes, he feels almost calm.
He lets go of his pistol and moves closer to Zhongli.
The scratching of the pen stops. Childe takes a step back, trying to remember if Zhongli has ever expressed a love for personal space.
‘Who’s there?’ says Zhongli.
The torch drops to the ground when Childe immediately draws his blades, splitting them into two. There is nothing out of the ordinary, but instinct tells him to be ready for a fight.
It is never wrong, and it is not wrong here. Not when Zhongli hisses, a low sound that makes the hairs on the back of Childe’s neck stand up.
‘What do you want?’ Zhongli is saying, his voice raspy. Childe places a bit more distance between the two of them. Zhongli doesn’t seem the type to get careless, but in his own words, this is no ordinary echo.
If anything goes wrong, if he has to raise a hand against Zhongli…
Childe steadies himself and shuts down his spiralling thoughts. No need for something that drastic yet. He clears his throat, his mouth suddenly too dry.
‘Zhongli? Are you there?’
‘I promise,’ Zhongli says. It’s hard to tell, but against the flickering light of the torch, Childe can tell that he is leaning around the beams that shield them from the echo.
‘Zhongli.’ He tries again.
Like a switch has been turned off, Zhongli’s slow, deep breathing returns. Childe doesn’t sheathe his blades yet.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I am perfectly fine, thank you,’ the man says. Childe hears shuffling as he begins to pack up his equipment.
‘You were talking to someone,’ says Childe. ‘You were looking around the corner, and…’
He debates whether to tell Zhongli about his hissing. But he’s already standing up, and he’s picked up the torch that Childe has dropped.
‘Never mind,’ says Childe. ‘Is that all you needed to do?’
‘This is just the first step,’ says Zhongli. ‘I need to fully cleanse this area of the echo’s influence. That should be the part you’re interested in. No matter its intent, taking apart an echo will always attract unwanted attention.’
‘Such as?’
‘The local wildlife, for instance. And other… less worldly creatures.’
Zhongli turns and makes his way back towards the entrance. His pace is faster this time, which suits Childe perfectly. His need for a challenge can wait. Now, he needs the sun.
The trek back is somehow faster, but he doesn’t complain. He’ll come back, he promises, and then he’ll brave this stupid, unreasonable cold at its source.
When he steps back into the sun, he takes a deep breath, feeling the strength return to his legs. He has the whole afternoon ahead of him, and no assignments from the bank. Maybe he’ll pick a fight with the local wildlife—under legal circumstances, of course. The judicial system is something he has no desire to deal with.
‘I have to thank you for your help, Childe,’ Zhongli says when Childe can lift his head and smell a wood fire, courtesy of the Millelith soldiers on their lunch break. They’ve almost made it to the entrance, but he still watches his step, carefully staying away from the cliffs that drop down to the middle basin of the Chasm.
‘I did nothing,’ says Childe.
‘Company is important on expeditions like these,’ says Zhongli. ‘It helps keep the mind stable.’
Childe considers telling Zhongli about his own unnatural behaviour in the caves again, but Zhongli sounds so much like his usual self that he can’t bring himself to do it. He opens his mouth, about to reply, then stops.
Childe’s ears are no sharper than a regular person’s, but losing his eyesight has forced his attention to detail. Now, past the gentle shuffle of Zhongli’s footsteps and the wind burrowing into abandoned mines, there is a third, shriller sound. Otherwise unnoteworthy, if not for its increasing familiarity.
No, wait. He’s definitely heard that before.
Zhongli lets out a small noise of shock as Childe runs past him and all but throws himself down a slope, angling his feet to slow his descent. The shrill sound has stopped now, but he remembers enough about its general direction. He knows he’s getting closer to the very centre of the Chasm, uncomfortably close to the entrance to its forsaken underground mines, but as he hauls himself over a broken mine cart, he finds that it doesn’t matter.
Oh, he’s going to have so much fun.
Near the centre of the chasm, boardwalks have been constructed to allow easier passage through the steeper terrain. He supposes these must be new, because they merely creak under his footsteps. Adrenaline erases all the tiredness he’s accumulated on the journey, anticipation bleeding into his movements as he draws his blades.
He jumps off the boards, blades angled as he thrusts them into a skull.
He recognises the dying snarls of his kill. Appropriately nicknamed hellhounds, they’re not easy opponents to deal with. It’s unusual for them to appear alone, like the specimen before him. But he didn’t come here for it.
He turns to find a sword pointed at his face, its owner’s arm as steady as ever. Childe sheathes his weapons and grins.
‘Good to see you, old friend.’
Lumine doesn’t reply. She rarely does, not when the floating creature (fairy?) beside her pipes up, her voice sharper than ever.
‘Childe! What are you doing here?’
Childe sidesteps Lumine’s sword. ‘Ah, the usual. The Tsaritsa’s orders. Some diplomatic relations. You?’
He can’t see Paimon, but he knows she’s floating up and down, wringing her hands. ‘Don’t think we buy that! You’re never up to any good!’
‘Believe me one last time,’ says Childe smoothly. ‘I’m merely here to assist a business partner. Ah, here he comes.’
Zhongli slides down the nearest slope to reach them, loose rocks tumbling to the ground with his descent. He stands still for a moment, unsure.
‘Childe,’ he says. ‘Do you know these people?’
‘I have to introduce you,’ says Childe. ‘Zhongli, meet Lumine, no last name. And Paimon, also no last name. Ladies, this is the illustrious Zhongli, funeral consultant and my partner.’
Lumine’s small ‘hi’ is the first word she speaks since he met her. Childe lets the three of them square each other up, though he suspects Zhongli is more interested in the riftwolf corpse at Childe’s feet.
‘Did you only see one of them?’ Zhongli asks. Childe makes an affirmative sound.
‘I know, it’s very unusual for them to not appear in packs. I’ve seen them hunt, though. It’s likely that this is just a scout.’
‘Nevertheless, I will let Ganyu know,’ says Zhongli. ‘Let the Qixing know they will have to deal with a bigger party.’
Paimon clears her throat.
‘Oh, you two.’ Childe’s attention snaps back to the two travellers. ‘You sound like you need a place to stay.’
‘We’ve been to the harbour,’ says Lumine, voice soft.
‘Is that so? This is going to be an interesting stay. Old friends who always find trouble, new opponents… it’s all I could ever ask for.’
Paimon makes a small noise of distress.
‘Miss,’ says Zhongli. He’s facing away from the group, and Childe guesses that he’s retracing his steps down here from the entrance. ‘This is no place for any traveller. I’ll escort you back to the harbour so you can recuperate.’
‘Aw, thank you!’ says Paimon.
‘No need,’ says her companion. ‘We know the way back.’
Childe feels her shoot him a wide-eyed stare before she starts clambering up the nearest slope. Zhongli waits for them to be out of auditory range before turning to Childe.
‘Your… friends. Are they the curious type?’
‘Oh, definitely. How do you think trouble always finds them?’
Zhongli sighs. ‘Is it too much to hope that they didn’t see…’
‘They’re good people,’ says Childe. ‘No matter where they go, they gain a reputation by protecting the weak.’
Unlike me, he almost adds.
Zhongli is still deep in thought, and Childe wonders if he even heard him. But the man snaps out of it a moment later and straightens his back.
‘Still, I do not want to involve a third party in this matter. The less who know about this echo, the better.’
‘What’s the worst that could happen?’
‘I think you know better than anyone else,’ Zhongli says quietly, ‘the consequences of humans tampering with the powers of dead gods.’
Childe thinks back to his homeland, to his colleagues, to the things sealed in their labs, and keeps quiet.
Zhongli begins walking, signalling for Childe to follow him with a small noise. Childe all but runs after him, wanting nothing more than a good lunch. His stamina’s really rusting over at the ripe old age of twenty-two.
~~~
‘You’ve talked to him?’
‘He reached out to me. He said… he wanted to talk to me.’
‘I can immediately authorise another trip to the Chasm.’
‘No need. I’ll do it during the cleansing.’
‘Will you have enough time?’
‘I trust his judgement.’
‘...’
‘His mind may be clouded, but I know it was him in there. Not the madness that took him.’
‘...’
‘But I need more help. Childe is capable, but risking his life is unthinkable to me.’
‘I was just about to suggest that. Take this and go down to the wharf. The ship you’re looking for is called the Alcor. Ask for their captain. She’s… interesting, but the Tianquan trusts her, and that has to count for something.’
‘Captain Beidou? I know her well enough. Though I do not doubt her abilities, she alone will likely not be enough to deal with the task at hand.’
‘I did get in touch with another. Don’t bother looking for her, though. She’ll find you in time.’
~~~
When Zhongli goes down to the docks on Monday, he has to push and shove his way through a sizable crowd to get to their epicentre, where two women sit at a table. Judging from the way the crowd watches with bated breath, and the cards and dice strewn on the table, he’s walked in on something important.
He glances at the crowd, still unaware of his presence, then back to the table. He settles for waiting.
One of the women, younger and with her hair in pigtails, is frowning in concentration, a stark contrast to her opponent, who leans back in her chair and shoots Zhongli a lazy grin.
‘Wangsheng Funeral Parlour’s consultant, I assume?’ Beidou winks at him with her single eye. ‘Nice to meet you.’
He hears the people behind him whisper amongst themselves, guessing why such an esteemed individual would sneak down to the docks during his shift to watch a match of Genius Invokation TCG (Zhongli files that name away for later). He clears his throat.
‘Captain Beidou. I have some business I would like to discuss with you.’
His tone gives nothing away, but she gives him a knowing lift of her eyebrow anyway. Maybe all those years spent harassing the Tianquan has resulted in a keen nose for more sensitive information.
‘Ah, that must wait,’ says Beidou. ‘Keqing here can’t stand interruptions during a match.’ She nods at her opponent, who is staring too hard at the cards in her hand to notice.
Zhongli shifts his attention to Keqing. Apparently the Yuheng has picked up some new hobbies. The tabloids are going to have the second most interesting day of their lives (after the time one of them came across the various… collections in the Yuheng’s apartment).
‘Hey.’ He turns back to Beidou, who’s sitting upright in her chair now, though the same laziness remains in the way she cups her chin. ‘Where’s your friend? The ginger one,’ she adds at Zhongli’s lack of reaction.
‘He is busy.’
‘Ah, it’s lucky you didn’t bring him this time. Keqing’s been wanting to give him a piece of her mind after what he’s been getting away with.’
‘I am sure he would enjoy that very much.’
‘No doubt. He’s no sore loser for sure,’ says Beidou. ‘I’ve got my own score to settle with him. Got me kicked out of my favourite bar.’
‘What happened?’
A slight flush finds its way to Beidou’s cheeks. ‘Nothing important. Well, nothing worth settling using a fistfight. Something about politics and the economy.’
‘And your little scuffle with the Tianquan, no doubt.’
‘That little…’ growls Beidou. ‘He told you, didn’t he? Never mind how he found out about it…’
Zhongli holds back the urge to explain that there are only five people in Liyue Harbour, give or take, that don’t know about the saga of Beidou and Tianquan Ningguang. He settles for shrugging and saying something vague about alcohol. Beidou huffs and goes back to staring at her cards.
A member of the crowd murmurs behind him, pointing at Keqing’s cards. She’s placed her final three dice in the middle of the table, throwing down a singular card. Beidou clicks her tongue, her frustration forgotten.
‘A worthy struggle,’ Beidou says sagely, turning one of her own cards face down. ‘But you miscalculated.’ She places down two more cards.
The crowd roars in excitement and disappointment, and money exchanges hands. Keqing sighs and turns the last of her cards face down but holds out a hand anyway to shake Beidou’s.
‘Good game,’ says Keqing. ‘And that’s the end of my lunch break. I’ll see you next week.’
She stands up and immediately jumps in shock, noticing Zhongli for the first time. ‘Zhongli-xiansheng. Do you have a moment?’
He notes the venom in her gaze and shakes his head. Keqing holds up an apologetic hand. ‘Sorry for wasting your time.’ Then in a whisper, ‘I have to do everything by myself around here.’
She leaves the docks, heels clicking on the stone, taking the crowd with her. A singular small, ratty man remains, but he bolts quickly enough at Beidou’s eyebrow raise.
‘So. Let’s get ourselves some privacy.’
The Alcor is docked nearby, so they make for a cabin on it. Beidou’s crew seems to be mostly absent today, which suits him well. The captain pulls up a chair for her guest, choosing to perch on the edge of a low bookcase herself, a bottle of wine already in hand.
‘Ganyu told me the basic details,’ she says. Taking a swig, she continues, voice slurred, ‘I’m in.’
Zhongli folds his hands in his lap, relief flooding through him. ‘I want you to understand the risk that you are taking.’
‘Pah. Riftwolves, some insanity-inducing cadavers, I’ve seen them all.’
‘That is not the worst you will be dealing with.’ He’s used to it at this point, but he thinks Beidou’s abilities warrant this cockiness. After all, she did dredge up the remains of the sea beast she took down herself. ‘More recent reports from Sumeru speak of certain species of wildlife that consume the remains of dead gods, becoming stronger and more aggressive as a result. The local mercenaries call them Consecrated Beasts. I… did not see any on my initial scouting trip,’ he adds at Beidou’s quizzical look. ‘But that is a very real possibility.’
‘Hmm.’ Beidou takes the last swig of her bottle, dropping it onto the bookcase when she is done. ‘Ah, you can never prepare enough for those. We’ll roll with it.’
Zhongli strongly doubts that ‘rolling with it’ is going to be very safe, but he doesn’t want to explain that to a drunken captain. Beidou leans against the wall of the cabin, staring off into space.
‘Guess there’s no avoiding it. I want to ask you for a favour. Well, more like an exchange.’
‘I am listening.’
‘After I take care of your… dead god business, I want some advice.’
‘You can tell me your request now,’ says Zhongli. ‘But I cannot guarantee my advice will be sound, depending on which topic your question is.’
‘Ah. Alright, then. I’ll…’
He’s never seen her look so nervous before, her hands clenched in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankles.
‘What do I do with Ningguang?’
Zhongli blinks once, then twice. ‘I apologise. If I had known this was going to be relationship advice—’
‘Oh, no, it’s not relationship advice. More politics than anything. You see, the argument started because I was trying to get her permission to transport more… stuff.’
‘And the nature of this cargo…’
‘It’s not important,’ Beidou says quickly, suddenly lucid. Sliding back into her previous slouch, she sighs. ‘It’s nothing that would harm Liyue. I promise.’
Zhongli nods, though he’s not sure she sees him.
‘Anyway. I told her the same thing, that it’s no different from what I’ve always been doing, but she snapped. Told me I was keeping too many secrets and that my foresight isn’t always accurate. So I got mad and told her she was being a hypocrite, hiding her own secrets from me, and she kicked me out, and…’ She shrugs. ‘Here I am.’
She looks earnestly at Zhongli, looking not unlike a kicked puppy, and Zhongli cannot help but sigh.
‘What you are asking for… I will do my best. Take this with a grain of salt.’
He instinctively reaches for a cup of tea, but remembers where he is and places his hands back on his thighs.
‘You both have good reasons for keeping secrets from each other. Objectively speaking, this is the best case scenario for Liyue’s safety—your intel stays safe within your crew, and her knowledge is locked away for later. But when you two need to work as close as you do, it is understandable how being kept in the dark can throw a wrench in your relationship.’
‘This isn’t about our relationship,’ Beidou mutters, but Zhongli soldiers on.
‘What I suggest is to explain your point of view to her, and ask that she does the same for you.’ Beidou shrinks back in her seat. Zhongli continues, ‘Naturally, you cannot be completely honest in your endeavours—such is the nature of your work—but you can try reassuring her with some more solid evidence. Say, for example, if it involves certain… shadier organisations, or explosives.’
‘Explosives,’ echoes Beidou.
‘In the end, she cares for you and she cares for your safety. If anything were to happen, I don’t think she would forgive herself.’
Beidou stays quiet, clenching and unclenching her fists. Zhongli lets the silence settle in, taking the opportunity to study a particularly interesting crack in the floorboards.
‘You’re right,’ Beidou finally says, just when he’s reached a fork in the crack. With a grunt, she heaves herself off her bookcase, finding her footing surprisingly fast for someone who just downed an entire bottle of wine. ‘I need to stop avoiding her.’
‘I am glad that you have come to a decision.’
‘Just not today,’ she adds, voice softer. ‘I need some time to gather my thoughts. So!’ She stands up straight, grinning once more. ‘Here’s my card. Call me when you need your backup, all right?’
Muttering his thanks, Zhongli lets Beidou escort him back to the docks, a new spring in her step.
~~~
Zhongli makes good on his promise to take Childe shopping, and it is there that the strange woman finds them.
‘I think he’d like this,’ says Childe, taking the small model of a ballista from Zhongli. ‘He’s a nerd when it comes to military history. He won’t stop asking me about it, but I can’t tell him too much about it because—you know—the whole violence thing. I don’t like lying to him, but what can you do?’
Zhongli doesn’t know how to respond to that, not when he had just been ready to talk about the unique design details of the Guizhong Ballista and the reasoning behind them, but a third person pipes up.
‘If you don’t consider omission a lie, then your conscience can rest easier.’
Childe jumps at that, dropping the model. When he leans down to look for it, muttering about terrifying shopkeepers, Zhongli takes a good look at the woman, her tall frame silhouetted against the noon sun streaming in through the windows. Her hair is cut in a short bob, and she is dressed in a standard suit, though her heels look too high to be practical. Her face is oddly familiar, though Zhongli doesn’t know if she has one of those ten-in-a-crowd faces or if he’s actually seen her before.
‘Thank goodness, it didn’t break,’ says Childe, standing up straight. The woman taps her heel, head tilted as she contemplates the two of them. Childe frowns.
‘You’re not the shopkeeper.’
The shopkeeper is Granny Shan who typically stays in the back of her store, working on a new trinket or kite, and who is definitely not this young. The woman tugs at her necktie.
‘You figured that out a lot faster than they usually do.’ Childe’s face lights up, and the woman continues, nodding at Zhongli. ‘I got your message from the secretary. Here’s my card.’
She all but throws it at him. Zhongli blinks in the noon sun, trying to make out the words. For a business card, this has surprisingly little information.
‘Wait!’ says Childe when the woman makes her way to the exit, already tugging off her necktie. ‘You didn’t even give us a name.’
The woman pauses at the exit. ‘For most purposes, I remain nameless. But for the sake of simplicity, you can call me Yelan.’
‘That’s not your real name.’
‘And “Childe” isn’t yours either, but let’s not get into that. I look forward to working with you.’
When the door shuts behind her, she all but vanishes. Childe vaults over a display case in his haste to follow her, darting out of the door in record speed. Zhongli takes the opportunity to examine her business card.
There’s a phone number, with the name ‘Yelan’ scribbled hastily underneath it in red ink. Zhongli fishes his phone out of his pocket and adds the number to his contacts, finishing up just as Childe returns, panting as if he’s just run a marathon.
‘She’s gone. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.’ He leans against a wall, fanning himself with a hand. ‘You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen her.’
Zhongli makes a quizzical sound. Childe scratches behind his ear.
‘I went to clear out a teahouse once. The owner… hah, let’s say that he needed to sell more than his house to pay his debt. Someone bought it as soon as we seized it, and Felix—from the bank—took on a habit of visiting it. Now he won’t stop telling me about this very pretty waitress-slash-bartender-slash-bouncer and her, uhm, “low, seductive” voice.
‘I visited the teahouse to see for myself, and, well. She has a penchant for slipping in and out of different masks. Puts my colleagues to shame. Hah, she’s not the only one looking forward to our cooperation.’
Zhongli takes in the information, planning to digest it all properly later.
‘You know, we could invite someone else,’ says Childe, as if it’s simply a school trip. ‘Remember Lumine? Well—’
‘It would not be wise to let too many people know about this.’
‘So you can pick out your cronies but I can’t?’
‘I did not select them myself. Rather, I was recommended by Secretary Ganyu.’
‘Pfft, I’m just joking,’ says Childe, spreading his hands. ‘Oh, speaking of her. Word on the street says she and Keqing… well, they’re more than just friends.’
‘Hmm?’
‘I was hoping you’d be less confused than I am. I mean, Ganyu? Miss Never-leaves-her-office? Ironic, isn’t it, that she has a better chance at a relationship than…’
Childe’s voice trails off, but Zhongli is no longer listening. His thoughts are straying back to his meeting with Ganyu on that rainy day, his promise to her, and the wrench that was thrown into all that on his scouting.
It seems that echoes are no different from regular humans in that respect.
If you've seen this fic before, you'll probably remember that it had more chapters. What happened was that I changed so much of the ideas for this fic that the earlier chapters have to undergo heavy editing for later parts to work. So... enjoy the food I guess.