Chapter Text
"Xiangling!" Xingqiu and Hu Tao cry, as she finally steps into the private room Xingqiu had booked for the evening.
"You're back!" Xingqiu greets delightedly.
"How was the trip?" Hu Tao asks eagerly.
Xiangling does not immediately reply, but after a moment, she closes the door behind her, and slowly lowers herself into her seat.
"Mr. Zhongli is an adeptus," she says miserably.
There is a moment of silence.
"What," Chongyun says.
"Mr. Zhongli is an adeptus," Xiangling repeats miserably.
The other three trade looks, before looking back at her again.
"I know we were the ones to suggest it earlier this week," Xingqiu finally says delicately. "But what made you…"
He trails off, and after a moment, Xiangling lets out a sigh.
"He did not eat," she says tiredly, "for three whole days."
There is another moment of silence, before all at once, the room erupts into cacophony.
"Three days?!" Xingqiu shrieks.
"When you say three days," Chongyun cuts in, "do you mean he only nibbled at snacks, or—"
"No," Xiangling says. "He ate nothing at all. He did not even drink water."
It seems to take a moment before it all sinks in, but when it does, Hu Tao immediately jumps to her feet.
"I knew it!" she shouts. "I knew it! I called it!"
"Is that why he's so knowledgeable?!" Xingqiu demands. "He's an adeptus?"
"I called it!" Hu Tao continues to yell.
"I can't believe it," Chongyun says dazedly, as Hu Tao and Xingqiu begin to yell incoherently over one another. "One of Xingqiu's crazy theories actually wound up being true."
That seems to distract the other two from their incoherent ranting.
"Hey!" they yelp.
"Even if you don't trust Xingqiu, then what about me?!" Hu Tao demands.
"Director Hu," Chongyun says, unimpressed, "you also come up with all kinds of crazy theories."
"We live in the same building!" Hu Tao reminds him, wounded. "Why else would I keep insisting he's an adeptus! That guy isn't normal, and objectively speaking, he's terrible at pretending to be human! He doesn't even bother to hide the giant adeptal cauldron that takes up the better part of his living room!"
"The what?!" everyone screeches in unison.
"The adeptal cauldron!" Hu Tao repeats loudly, with a frantic wave of her hands. "He makes pills in them!"[1]
"Pills?!" Xingqiu questions incredulously. "What kind of pills?!"
"I don't know!" Hu Tao cries. "Adepti pills!"
"Like the immortal pills in fantasy novels?!" Xingqiu prods, visibly excited now. "The ones that immortals take to become immortals?!"
"I don't know!" Hu Tao cries again. "I asked him once? He said he was making painkillers! Who would believe that?!"
"You broke into his room," Chongyun begins disbelievingly, "then later approached him and asked about his adeptal cauldron?"
"He let me in to talk about work!" Hu Tao defends. "I told you guys! He's terrible at pretending to be human! Do you know, he even keeps those pills in little jade gourds?"
"Like the immortal pills in fantasy novels!" Xingqiu shrieks.
"Exactly!" Hu Tao shouts.
Chongyun blinks once, and then again, before sitting slowly back in his chair.
"I can't believe Mr Zhongli is actually an adeptus," he says dazedly.
"Yes," Xiangling says helplessly, and rubs tiredly at her face. "I owe you guys an apology. In the end, you were right about Mr. Zhongli and— and—"
She swallows through the lump in her throat.
"And it was me!" she blurts out guiltily. "I was the waitstaff who let slip that Wangsheng had a long-standing relationship with the Northland Bank! They asked me why Mr. Zhongli was having so many business lunches with the Fatui and I— I didn't know everyone would make such a big deal about it!"
"Aw, Ling," Hu Tao says sympathetically, getting up to pat Xiangling's shoulder as Xiangling puts her face back in her hands. "Don't feel bad about it. That piece of knowledge has been circulating for ages already. It didn't start from you!"
"Ugh," Xiangling mutters muffledly into her hands. "Next time, I'll just refuse to answer any questions."
Hu Tao squeezes her shoulder.
"Don't worry," she says comfortingly, "I'll figure out a way to bury the rumors again." She grins. "Haha, get it? Bury?!"
Everyone groans.
After a moment, however, Xingqiu's expression turns a little thoughtful.
"You know," he muses, rubbing consideringly at his chin, "I think we have enough material right now. Between Wangsheng Parlor and the Feiyun Commerce Guild, we should be able to put a good twist to the rumors."
After a moment, he nods, seemingly to himself, before turning to Xiangling again.
"But enough of that," he declares. "Tell us more about the trip, Xiangling! Did anything else of note happen?"
Xiangling immediately thinks back to the adeptal abode, to Mr. Zhongli's strangely familiar laugh, to his strangely familiar eyes. For a moment, she considers telling them, but in the end— something stills her tongue.
She can't help but remember how at ease Mr. Zhongli had seemed, in the privacy of that abode. She can't help but feel like she had been trusted with a side of him that others would not have been privy to.
And so, after a moment of deliberation, she decides to keep it to herself.
"We ran into Childe and the Traveller out in the wilderness," she says instead. "Childe broke his foot trying to kick Mr. Zhongli under the table, and left the harbor so no one would find out. He's back in the harbor now though. The two of us ended up taking a cart back from Wangshu Inn."
That sparks a round of laughter.
"That said, Zhongli isn't back yet," Hu Tao notes curiously. "Where did he go?"
"I think he might have decided to pay the other adepti a visit?" Xiangling guesses. "The weekend isn't over yet."
At that, Hu Tao's expression turns vaguely mischievous.
"Hmm," she hums consideringly. "I see."
And so, the weekend passes, and the new week begins. The violetgrass, when added to Wanmin's signature Black-Back Perch Stew, does indeed give the dish a slightly different flavor. Xiangling wouldn't go so far as to say that it's better than before, but it's definitely an interesting change.
The qingxin is also exactly as Mr. Zhongli said it would be, but while its freshness and vibrant sweetness adds a distinct lift to Tianshu Meat, in the end, Xiangling decides that it's a little too sweet for a dish meant to be somewhat savory.
Indeed, the qingxin would probably go best in a dessert.
Mid-week, she is faintly surprised when Hu Tao shows up just before closing, dragging an exasperated-looking Zhongli along by the wrist. Xiangling has always had a soft spot for her friends, however, so after a moment, she just smiles, and turns to the two waitstaff on shift.
"You two go on home," she says quietly. "I'll finish closing up by myself."
As they bid her goodnight, leaving for the day, Hu Tao drags Mr. Zhongli to one of the tables. He allows her to press him down into the seat with a soft sigh.
"Director Hu," he chides. "It is after hours. We should not be keeping Miss Xiangling."
"Aiya, we'll just order something that's ready-made," Hu Tao says, before turning to Xiangling with wide, pitiful eyes. "Is that alright? Maybe two servings of the crystal shrimp, and a packet of jueyun chili chicken to share?"[2]
Xiangling chuckles, and nods. She is bending down to open the chiller when Hu Tao next speaks.
"So," she begins, "you're an adeptus."
Xiangling freezes. After a short moment, she opens the chiller, takes out a take-away pack of jueyun chilli chicken, and slowly straightens back up to glare at Hu Tao.
Xiangling told her that in confidence!
Mr. Zhongli, however, does not seem particularly surprised. On the contrary, he just reaches up to massage the bridge of his nose, and sighs.
"Must we have this conversation every other week?" he asks tiredly. "I have no idea what in Tevyat's name is causing you to continually bring this up."
Hu Tao rolls her eyes.
"Oh, I don't know," she begins sarcastically. "Maybe the giant adeptal cauldron in your living room? The one you make immortality pills in?"
"For the last time, there's no such thing as immortality pills, Director," Mr. Zhongli says. "That was just a fanciful idea cooked up by over-imaginative alchemists. As I told you previously, those were painkillers."
Xiangling comes out from around the counter, setting their order down on the table. With murmured thanks, Hu Tao picks up a piece of crystal shrimp, and pops it unceremoniously into her mouth.
"And I also heard it from Xingqiu," she says, voice muffled as she chews.
Mr. Zhongli is silent for a moment, before he exhales.
"So you heard it from your young friend Xingqiu," he repeats slowly, "the second young master of the Feiyun Commerce Guild, who I've yet to meet in person."
Hu Tao finishes chewing, and swallows.
"Yep," she says.
Mr. Zhongli closes his eyes.
"Director Hu," he begins, "I must ask, once again, that you cease with this baseless line of—"
"He heard it from Chongyun," Hu Tao cuts in.
Mr. Zhongli is silent for another moment, before he takes a deep breath.
"Chongyun," he says, "the young exorcist of the Tianheng clan, who I've also yet to meet in person."
Hu Tao picks up another crystal shrimp.
"Yep," she says again, and gestures with the crystal shrimp. "Chongyun, who overheard it from Xiangling and Childe three days ago, as they were riding back through Guili Plain towards the harbor."
The crystal shrimp slips from her chopsticks, plopping back down into her bowl, but Hu Tao doesn't seem particularly concerned.
"It was late at night," she continues, picking the crystal shrimp back up and popping it into her mouth, "and they were speaking in hushed voices, but they said you didn't eat for three days, that you're an adeptus, and that you're complete dogshit at hiding it."
"Language," Mr. Zhongli corrects automatically.
There's a long pause, before he speaks again, this time with an air of resignation.
"And this is the reason you've decided to disturb Miss Xiangling at her place of work this late into the night?" he asks.
Hu Tao leans forward, narrowing her eyes.
"But do you deny that you did not eat or sleep for three days," she prods, "on a trip that I know you took because you requested leave for it, up into Jueyun Karst—"
She pauses to throw her hands up.
"Jueyun Karst, the abode of the adepti!" she cries, before pointing her chopsticks accusingly at him. "You guys were up there looking for some crazy ingredient for one of Xiangling's crazy experiments, weren't you?"
"It was not a crazy ingredient or a crazy experiment," Mr. Zhongli immediately cuts in, his tone stern. "That is incredibly impolite to Miss Xiangling, who puts much thought and expertise into her experimental dishes. And in this case, we were looking for a specific strain of qingxin and violetgrass, which are both perfectly common ingredients, to make jade fruit soup, which is also a perfectly common dish."
Hu Tao shoots to her feet, slamming her hands down on the table.
"So you admit it!" she cries, leaning so far over the table that she looks at risk of toppling over it altogether. "You admit that you went on the trip?!" She lowers her voice. "You admit that you're an adeptus?!"
Zhongli is silent for a long moment.
Finally, bursting with clear satisfaction, Hu Tao climbs slowly up onto her chair.
"I knew it," she hisses, jabbing her finger down at him. "I knew it," she continues, bending her knees with each jab of her finger. "I knew it, I knew it!"
"Director Hu," Mr. Zhongli says, "please come down from that chair."
Hu Tao does not come down from her chair.
"Do you know how long I spent trying to convince Xiangling that you're an adeptus?" she hisses. "I told her so many times and she didn't believe me!"
Xiangling coughs as Hu Tao takes her hat off, and screams silently into it.
"Director, please compose yourself," Mr. Zhongli says. "You are about to give yourself an aneurysm."
At that, Hu Tao finally puts her hat back on, clambers back down, and sits at the table again.
"So," she says, propping her chin in her hand, "what exactly are you?"
With a quiet sigh, Mr. Zhongli picks up a piece of the jueyun chili chicken, and bites into it. He chews slowly, and swallows, before speaking again.
"I'm not sure what your question is," he finally says, "and I do not plan on answering any invasive questions."
"I've noticed the scales on your coat," Hu Tao continues, as if he hadn't spoken at all. "I bet you're a fish. That's why you don't eat seafood."
And Mr. Zhongli — Xiangling doesn't know how else to describe it — bristles.
"I am not," he says, pulling himself upright with all the dignity of an offended housecat, "a fish."
"A snake, then."
He closes his eyes.
"No."
"A lizard."
"No."
Hu Tao cackles loudly, and steals a crystal shrimp out of Mr. Zhongli's bowl. Without a hint of shame at his disapproving glance, she pops it into her mouth, chewing loudly as she sets her chopsticks back down.
"A dragon then," she says.
Mr. Zhongli stills.
After a second of utter silence, he picks up his chopsticks, and picks out another slice of the chili chicken.
"No," he finally says.
Hu Tao laughs.
"Alright then," she says easily, "so you're a fish."
Mr. Zhongli glares, in the fiercest expression Xiangling has ever seen on his face.
"I am not a fish, Director Hu," he says disapprovingly. "Must we persist in this insensible line of questioning? Let us cease this topic and move on to more meaningful conversation."
"Alright then," Hu Tao says again, just as easily as before. "Let's talk about something else, Mr. Not-A-Dragon. Like the giant adeptal cauldron in your living room, that you use to make immortality pills."
Mr. Zhongli puts a hand over his eyes.
"There's no such thing as adeptal cauldrons or immortality pills," he says, sounding very, very tired. "It's just a cauldron, and as I've said, those were painkillers. The concept of pills that can grant immortality became an obsession of alchemists several centuries back. Although attempts to create such pills stopped being widespread in recent times, the idea has been made popular again in the last century by fantasy novelists.[3] I can assure you, however, that such pills have never existed. If you have stolen any of those pills, I ask that you do not try to eat them. They are not meant for your constitution."
"You understand that people who aren't adepti don't usually keep cauldrons in their houses?" Hu Tao presses.
"Indeed, I have been learning many things about mortals."
"And people who aren't adepti don't usually refer to the rest of us as mortals!" Hu Tao exclaims.
"We have long established that, yes," Mr. Zhongli concedes with a sigh, before lowering his hand to fix Hu Tao with another stern look. "I mean it, Director. Don't eat any of those pills. They are not meant for a mortal constitution and were brewed at a strength that would make even most adepti sick. It will very likely kill you."
Hu Tao rolls her eyes, and picks her chopsticks back up.
"Yeah, yeah," she agrees, with a flippant wave of her chopsticks. "I won't eat your immortality pills."
"They aren't—" Mr. Zhongli begins again, before finally, after a moment, deflating with a sigh. "Nevermind."
He finishes the last piece of chicken, and reaches out to clip the lid back over the takeaway packet of jueyun chili chicken.
"We shouldn't keep Miss Xiangling further," he says firmly. "We can finish the rest of our meal at Wangsheng. After all, we still have work to do."
At that, Hu Tao sighs, but gets up to leave.
"Alright," she says gloomily, before turning around to give Xiangling a wave. "Thanks for the meal! I owe you one!"
As the two of them head back in the direction of Wangsheng Parlor, Xiangling finally comes out from behind the counter, and gives the table one last wipe. Standing there, she watches their backs disappear slowly down the pavement, before turning, just past the bridge, to head into the funeral parlor.
The streets now empty, Xiangling switches the light inside the store off, and brings the canopy down over the storefront. Alone in silence, the sound of Mr. Zhongli's laughter plays again in her head, twining through her thoughts along with the conversation she'd just overhead. His eyes, those strikingly familiar eyes of molten gold—
She sees them in her mind's eye now, set in a different face.
The next day, as she sets up the stall for the day, she catches wind of an extremely peculiar conversation.
"I'm telling you for the last time, Ying'er," Su Er'niang sighs, "Mr. Zhongli couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a Fatui Harbinger."
Xiangling pauses mid-motion, halfway through kneading out the dough for their hand-pulled noodles.
"But that's what the rumors say!" Ying'er hisses. "Uncle Sun and Uncle Gao were at the Third Round Knockout this week, and they definitely saw the harbinger in a cast. He was glaring at Mr. Zhongli the whole time, and in the end, Mr. Zhongli insisted on paying for the meal. In penance for the broken foot, was what they heard him say."
"Mr. Zhongli?" Su Er'niang says skeptically. "Does he look like the kind to challenge someone to some kind of… warning spar?"
After a short moment, Xiangling gives the dough one last knead, before turning around to coat her hands in flour.
"Over the Osial incident apparently," Ying'er clarifies. "That's the theory going around right now."
Scattering a second handful of flour on the counter, Xiangling picks up the dough, and begins to pull and fold it. Muscle memory guides her through the motions, even with her attention split elsewhere.
"Do you guys really think that Fatui guy freed Osial though?" Geri asks after a moment, sounding a little unsure now. "Big-Footed Dajiao was the one who started that whole line of speculation but…. I ran into him down at the wharf yesterday, and even he has begun to reassess the rumors."
"That's what I was thinking too!" Ying'er immediately gasps. "If he couldn't defeat Mr. Zhongli in a spar, could he really have assassinated a god, let alone the mighty Rex Lapis?"
There's the sound of murmured agreement.
"Well, I still think all this warning spar nonsense is exactly that," Su Er'niang says briskly. "Nonsense."
But there, she pauses briefly. When she next speaks, she has lowered her voice considerably.
"But my sister works in the Ministry of Civil Affairs," she confides. "After this new round of rumors broke, she told me that the ministry had previously been investigating that Childe fellow over the Osial incident. He had always maintained his innocence, but the Qixing persisted fiercely in their investigations until suddenly, a day before the Rite of Parting, they just stopped."
"Stopped?" Ying'er repeats disbelievingly.
"A circular was sent down to the employees who had been involved in the investigations after that," Su Er'niang continues. "Our lord had appeared to the Qixing in a dream."
"So that's how they got all that stuff about the divine trial then!" Ying'er gasps.
"Yes," Su Er'niang confirms.
There's a moment of silence.
"If that's truly the case," Geri says quietly, "then this entire harbor has been quite unfair to that Fatui guy."
"And to the Northland Bank staff too," Ying'er adds regretfully.
There's another moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence, before Aunt Zhang comes bustling suddenly past Wanmin. She stops at Su Er'niang's cart, before pausing, and retreating a step to peek into Wanmin Restaurant.
"A serving of the Black-Back Perch Stew and another serving of the crab roe tofu, please," she calls. "Thank you, Xiangling, darling."
With that, she steps forward once more.
"Er'niang, have you heard the new rumors?" she hisses. "To think even a stubborn old guy like Old Sun could change his tune so quickly!"
"Not just Uncle Sun," Ying'er immediately returns. "Even Uncle Gao has changed his mind!"
As the conversation starts up again, Xiangling steps back from the counter, and quietly begins to stir-fry the crab roe for the tofu.
When Xiangling drops by Yujing Terrace later that day, Yaoyao immediately stands from where she'd been playing in the grass, and hurries over to her.
"You're back!" she cries, pushing a small pouch into Xiangling's hands. "Shifu said you injured yourself while out hunting for herbs. Shijie, next time you go herb-gathering, you should bring me along! If not, I won't be able to stop myself from worrying."
Xiangling looks down into the pouch. It looks to be a herb pouch from Bubu Pharmacy for treating injuries.
"Shimei," she begins despairingly, "I sometimes wonder who exactly is the senior between the two of us."
"Apply the paste evenly every night before bed," Yaoyao tells her sternly. "Remember to let the wound air for a bit before rewrapping it in the morning!"
Xiangling sighs, defeated, but before she can say more, her attention is drawn to the sounds of a hushed conversation.
"Is that really what happened?" a clerk is whispering, coming down the stairs from Yuehai Pavillion.
"I saw it when I was dropping some documents off at the Northland Bank!" another clerk insists. "He was definitely in a cast!"
"Is that why Lady Keqing and Lady Ningguang have been in such a good mood?" the other clerk wonders. "Lady Keqing has been smiling to herself all morning, and there was one point where she began laughing out of the blue. It gave me a huge fright!"
"Oh, there's no doubt that he's broken something, alright," a third clerk adds her opinion. "But I think the rumors about Mr. Zhongli having done it are just wild conspiracy theories. Sure, he has a vision, but he doesn't seem combat-proficient. He's so gentle-hearted!"
As they vanish down the path towards Feiyun Slope, still gossiping amongst themselves, Xiangling reluctantly pulls her attention back to her shimei. To her surprise, however, it looks like Yaoyao had been listening in as well.
"Didn't he break his foot kicking Mr. Zhongli under the table?" she wonders, putting a finger on her chin. "Where did these rumors about a spar come from?"
Xiangling blinks.
"Wait," she blurts out. "How did you find out about that?"
Yaoyao tilts her head inquisitively.
"Auntie Cloud Retainer told me, of course," she replies. "She's been laughing about it all week. Truthfully, the adepti have all been a little on edge since Childe returned to the harbor, but since the news broke, everyone has been significantly less murderous, which is a relief."
"The rumors have reached even the adepti?!" Xiangling asks disbelievingly.
"Mr. Zhongli told them," Yaoyao explains.
Xiangling slowly processes that.
"Shimei," she says, after a long moment, "did you know all along that Mr. Zhongli was an adeptus?"
Yaoyao blinks up at her.
"I suspected," she corrects. "Shenhe-jiejie once said that there was an amber-eyed gentleman who would often sit alone at the stone table outside Auntie Cloud Retainer's abode, and Auntie Cloud Retainer always said not to disturb him. I had a feeling it had to be Mr. Zhongli, just based off description alone, but since that would be hearsay, as Yanfei-jiejie would call it, I decided to keep it to myself. Shifu always says not to spread unverified rumors."
Xiangling considers her words for a moment longer, truthfully feeling a little speechless.
"You know, Shimei," she finally says, "I think I really need to take a leaf out of your book."
It's another two days before Mr. Zhongli next drops by, but the moment he appears over the counter, Xiangling immediately jumps to her feet.
"Mr. Zhongli!" she cries.
"Hello, Miss Xiangling," Mr. Zhongli greets warmly.
"Wait right there," she says sternly, and turns around to get her ingredients out of the chiller.
"She's been waiting for you to pop by," Chef Mao explains, laughing. "What can I get you today, Mr. Zhongli?"
"I think perhaps a bowl of dragon beard noodles to start with," Mr. Zhongli replies, "and then a serving of full moon egg to go."
While her father gets started on the green onions, Xiangling quickly throws the violetgrass, qingxin, sliced pear, and dates into a pot, bringing the soup to a slow simmer. Then, turning around, she helps her father slice the mushrooms and fowl for the noodles. As the noodles soften, she turns her attention to a different order.
In the midst of the lunch hour crowd, there are a number of dishes to juggle, but she keeps a careful eye on the jade fruit soup as she cooks. The pear, she knows from experience now, should be boiled long enough to be soft, but not long enough to be mushy. The soup should be simmered until it thickens, but not until it turns to syrup.
"The noodles are ready," Chef Mao says to her.
"I'll bring it to him," Xiangling says distractedly. "Watch the soup. Turn down the fire if it's getting too thick."
Chef Mao just laughs.
"Of course," he says.
Scooping the noodles out into a bowl, she comes out from behind the counter, immediately spotting Mr. Zhongli seated at one of the tables. He's looking up into the nearby tree, seemingly watching a pair of birds with a faint smile on his face, but he turns as Xiangling approaches.
"Your noodles!" she announces.
"Thank you, Miss Xiangling," he says.
"I'll bring the full-moon egg when you're done," she adds. "That way it'll still be warm when you return to Wangsheng."
Mr. Zhongli dips his head, smiling.
"That's thoughtful of you," he says kindly.
Xiangling returns his smile with a grin of her own, before turning to rush back into the kitchen.
"Save some space for dessert!" she calls over her shoulder.
The soup, when she returns to the stove, has thickened considerably, the texture silken against her wooden ladle. She adds the rock sugar last, stirring until the lumps have dissolved into the soup, before looking over her shoulder out towards the table.
Mr. Zhongli looks to be nearly done with his noodles.
She takes the pot off the stove, leaving it to cool for half a minute, before ladling it out into a bowl. To garnish, she carefully arranges a single qingxin over the sliced pear, before placing the bowl onto a tray.
"One jade fruit soup!" she announces, coming out from behind the counter.
"Ah," Mr. Zhongli says, surprised, as Xiangling sets the bowl down in front of him — but after a moment, he smiles. "You didn't have to, Miss Xiangling."
As he picks up his spoon, bringing it to his mouth, Xiangling perches on the side of the table with a laugh.
"Of course I had to!" she scolds. "You were a great help getting the ingredients. I tried out Bai-xiansheng's recipe yesterday, but I decided to make some modifications to improve the flavor. You were right that the flowers from Jueyun Karst really made a difference. I'm not sure if it tastes like you remember but…"
She trails off at the look on Mr. Zhongli's face. He's looking down into the bowl with a strange expression, his brows drawn together.
"Mr. Zhongli?" Xiangling calls worriedly. "Is something wrong?"
After a moment of consideration, she slaps her hands over her mouth.
"Did I mix up the salt and sugar again?!" she asks frantically. "I'm sorry, I should have done a taste test before serving!"
Mr. Zhongli holds up a hand as she reaches for the bowl, and she freezes.
Mr. Zhongli is quiet for a moment longer. Then, after a moment, he closes his eyes, and exhales softly, before finally looking up at her with a faint smile.
"Miss Xiangling," he says quietly. "It tastes exactly like I remember."
Xiangling immediately quiets.
After another moment, Mr. Zhongli takes another slow, careful spoonful of the soup. He closes his eyes again. There is a look on his face now, torn somewhere between joy and sorrow.
"I never thought I'd get to experience this flavor again," he murmurs, and lets out a quiet laugh. "How long has it been? I've lost count of the years."
He takes another spoonful, and laughs again, shaking his head. Xiangling just watches him wordlessly. When he next looks up at her, there is a faint sheen of moisture over his golden eyes.
"Thank you, Miss Xiangling," he says, with painful genuinity. "Thank you."
She recalls, suddenly, the wistful expression he had worn back then, tucked into that alcove beside Wanwen Bookhouse as they drank jade fruit soup for the first time. She remembers the quiet timber of his voice, and the way his eyes had seemed, for a moment, so far away — trapped somewhere in a distant memory.
It feels like a lump rises suddenly to her throat.
"I'll make it for you anytime," she promises. "Special customer privileges."
His eyes widen.
"Miss Xiangling," he immediately protests. "I couldn't possibly— the ingredients were hard to locate. You were nearly killed trying to obtain them. I don't think—"
"I'll just ask Adeptus Xiao," Xiangling says with a dismissive wave of her hand, and tilts her chin up stubbornly. "He can teleport, and I'm sure he'll say yes. No biggy!"
He'll say yes if he knows it's for you, she doesn't say.
Mr. Zhongli is quiet for a moment longer, before he smiles.
"Thank you, Miss Xiangling," he says again. "Thank you."
Grinning more widely now, Xiangling stands, and offers him a wink.
"I'll have the full-moon egg packaged for you," she chirps. "Enjoy your dessert, Mr. Zhongli!"
She returns to the kitchen, in much better spirits than before. Pulling the tray of full-moon egg out of the steamer, she picks three dumplings out into the takeaway packet, before pausing. Unbidden, her eyes flick up over the counter to Mr. Zhongli, still seated at the table, slowly finishing his jade fruit soup.
After a moment's pause, she picks out an additional two dumplings, placing them neatly into the box, and then clipping the lid over the takeaway packet. Smiling to herself, she turns around to retrieve a paper bag for the order.
Perhaps there will never be a way to repay Mr. Zhongli for all he's done for us, she thinks silently.
As she slides the takeout packet into the bag, she allows her eyes to rise again, to trail over the elegantly scaled ends of his tailcoat. The smile widens into a quiet laugh as fondness— as gratitude blooms warmly within her heart.
Two dumplings, she can't help but reflect to herself, is the least I can do.