Chapter Text
"You— What?! Why?! Surely you understand the risk—"
"A contract has barred me from disclosing my reasoning, but rest assured that I will step in should neither the Adepti nor the Qixing's leadership of Liyue prove to be unabl—"
"What if it'd been too late, then?! How many lives will have been lost before you intervene?"
"That depends on the capability of either, or both of, the Qixing and the Ad—"
"Those are lives, Morax, not Liyue Millenial pieces for you to move to and fro—"
"And do you think I did not consider that? My annual forecasts have ruined countless businesses and enriched countless more; I am well acquainted with risk mitigation and consequences of otherwise, loss and death, and I will handle them as they come."
The Lord of Geo's golden eyes gleam unflinchingly, His Will as solid as amber, staring down and against the furious once-Wisp across from Him.
"This won't go down as you plan it to be."
"The margins of error are yet tolerable, Barbatos."
"Morax, they are not numbers on ledgers."
"And they are not, but how do you propose I stop this? The plans are already set in motion, and back-ups ready to kick in at any time; what do you propose? Shall I dissolve my arrangements with the Tsaritsa, and reveal myself to the people? Would I not lose trust, both among men and adepti alike?"
The Master of Anemo maintains eye contact, not showing His disappointment at Morax's anticipation of His now-abortive plan to uncover the Lord of Geo's deceit to the masses.
"Interfering now will only worsen things. Let this play out as it will. Do you not trust me?"
"... I- Alright," concedes the once-Wisp. "What of Mora?"
The namesake of said currency grunts at this. "I gave it some thought, but the time of Mora is over. Let the governments of men decide; the people should not be reliant on divinely issued artifacts in this day and age, especially not those created through the Throne's... authority," the deity spits out.
"That's one way to put it..." Venti murmurs. "But are you really unable to divulge... anything? I fail to understand why you would deal with the Tsaritsa over this."
"Let me answer with a question: why did you allow the Fair Lady to—"
"Wait, you knew?"
"An educated guess, born out of past knowledge and present assessment... the Seat of the Anemo Archon is nominally empty."
Seems he's largely on board, then. The Bard exhales slightly, and turquoisie orbs disappear behind His eyelids. "I— alright, fine; I can live with that."
"Good to hear. I trust that our present misunderstandings have been cleared," says Zhongli, posture relaxed somewhat. The hard look He's leveled at His fellow deity for the past few minutes persists, though, and now He makes His request, "Please do not interfere, Barbatos; I can not command you to do so, but let Liyue take its first steps, just as you allowed Mondstadt theirs two millenia ago."
"... Fine."
"Paimon thinks he's got things he's hiding!"
"Can't say I disagree, but he's got a point," mumbles Aether, nodding slightly while continuing to eat his Grilled Tiger Fish. Childe's directions are their best lead forward, but something feels off from their interaction, and that is ignoring the fact that Childe was a Fatui Harbinger.
Venti takes another bite from his apple, tosses it in the air, and catches it with a wind current. "You're likely right. I'm sure the Sigil he gave you is not elementally nor magically compromised, but I wonder where he got his hands on one."
"He didn't say..." trails off the Fairy, thinking back to the encounter earlier today, getting nothing to recall. "Yeah, Paimon's got nothing."
"Eh, whatever, but we should be going soon. I'm not too keen on doing this, but bypassing the Qixing through Adeptal endorsement is an effective way to clear suspicions..." Another bite, before Venti continues, "Though I'd hate to witness the political ramifications after."
"Pardon?"
"By doing this, we'd be pitting the Adepti against the Qixing," Venti answers simply.
"Hm... Paimon doesn't get it; how?"
The Bard chuckles as he takes yet another bite. "Within Liyue's politics, the Adepti are above the Qixing in terms of authority. By going to the Adepti first, we're essentially ignoring the Qixing and the bureaucracy they lead, including the Millelith. We — well... you two — would be immune to anything the bureaucracy may attempt, but we'd be hard pressed to get into their good graces when all is said and done."
"That doesn't sound very good."
"It doesn't," admits Venti, his fingers twirling the core of the apple he has finished eating, before sending it flying on a wind current to the garbage can set on the corner of their room. "But that's in the long term. Right now, it's probably the best thing we can do if we don't want the Millelith breathing down our necks all the time... or knocking on the door."
"So what are we waiting for?! Let's go, th-" Paimon urges, right before Venti takes both her and Aether into his arms and swishes the three of them off to Wangshu Inn in a heartbeat.
When three Millelith soldiers burst into their room mere moments later, they will find the skewer of Grilled Tiger Fish Aether has been eating on the floor, half-eaten.